Romeo could hear the crowd screaming now, the words overlapping each other in an incomprehensible, yet bone-chilling symphony of sound. Tybalt was coming for him—he knew it—but from where?
A demonic, deafening cry left the vampire’s lips. Romeo could feel his steaming breath practically in his face and that was when instinct struck. While still lying on his back, Romeo used every shred of strength he had in his arms and sliced the long-sword through the air in a huge arcing motion.
Romeo heard two big thuds on the ground near him. And then there were exuberant shouts from the group of onlookers. Benvolio started shouting, “God save Romeo! God save Romeo!”
Romeo’s eyesight came back soon after that, and the first thing that he saw was Tybalt’s severed head, lying a foot away from his. He wanted to move but he was paralyzed with shock.
Benvolio was quick to pull his cousin up off the ground. “You must run, Romeo. Hide with Friar Laurence.”
“Oh, God, what have I done?” Romeo replied, covering his face with his bloodied hands.
A church bell sounded off in the distance, and the surrounding crowd began to scatter.
“Listen closely, Cousin.” Benvolio shook Romeo by the shoulders to get his attention. “The bell means the prince and his men are in the town square. They should be here any moment. I will try to stave them off. But you must find a quick place to hide!”
Romeo spun around, his eyes darting frantically in different directions. He saw that the blacksmith’s shop door was wide open. He sprinted toward the building, his heart caving in with each stride. Romeo ducked inside and locked the door behind him. Then he squatted behind a window, where no one could see him, and watched the calamity that was unfolding on the road.
With great haste, Benvolio enlisted some male citizens to dispose of Tybalt’s body. The men had no trouble throwing the vampire corpse into a wheelbarrow, but none of them seemed eager to touch the severed head. After a lot of arguing, the townsmen dashed away with the wheelbarrow, leaving Tybalt’s head where it lay.
Romeo closed his eyes for a minute and tried to catch his breath, but instead he suddenly became sick to his stomach. He knew the Montagues would want to keep the vampire’s body as some kind of trophy—it was an honored family tradition that he thought was disgusting.
All of a sudden Romeo noticed that the bell had stopped ringing. He bowed his head and prayed that this nightmare would soon be over. But then he heard loud voices coming from the street. Romeo repositioned himself behind the window so he could get a clearer view.
Next to Benvolio and another townsman stood Prince Radu, dressed in a crisp, stately uniform. From the tense expressions on their faces, Romeo could tell that an ugly confrontation was only moments away. Off to the side was a small sampling of Radu’s army—seven soldiers perched on black horses.
Romeo wiped beads of sweat from his forehead with his shirtsleeve. How would he be able to escape the consequences of what he’d done?
And then he spotted a noble female vampire, staring in horror at what was left of Tybalt. The more he stared at her, the more she bore a striking resemblance to Juliet.
Then it occurred to Romeo that this nightmare would never end.
“Which one of you vile humans killed my nephew?!” the woman said.
Now there was no doubt that this vampire was Romeo’s mother-in-law, Lady Capulet. If she knew that Romeo had secretly married her daughter and murdered her nephew, she might go on a wild rampage and kill everyone in sight.
“I demand to know what happened here.” Prince Radu closed in on Benvolio, the expression on his face stern and intimidating.
Benvolio stood firmly and showed no fear. “The truth is that Romeo Montague is responsible for Tybalt’s death.”
Lady Capulet narrowed her flaming eyes at Benvolio and said, “Then tell us where he is, so we can execute him.”
“I don’t know his whereabouts, and even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you,” Benvolio snarled at the vampire. Then he pointed to Mercutio’s pale, lifeless body.
“Your precious nephew challenged Romeo to a fight to the death, but Romeo was far too noble to accept! He wanted to respect the peace treaty and, for some strange reason, Tybalt’s life,” Benvolio explained. “Mercutio, on the other hand, could see in Tybalt’s beady eyes that he was out for blood at any cost, so he accepted the vampire’s challenge. Mercutio fought Tybalt valiantly, but Romeo interfered and tried to stop them. Tybalt could see that Mercutio was distracted and instead of backing off like a gentleman, he slaughtered Mercutio like a wild beast! If you ask me, Tybalt got exactly what he deserved.”
Romeo could see from the ferocious look on Lady Capulet’s face that she was brimming with anger.
“I can smell your blood, sir.” Lady Capulet poked Benvolio in the chest with a sharp fingernail. “You are a Montague. You will say and do anything to protect your kin. Everything that has come out of your mouth has been lies.”
Romeo leaned closer to the glass of the blacksmith shop window, wishing there was some way to protect his cousin.
The prince looked to one of the townsmen, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Were you a witness to this?”
The man stepped in between Benvolio and Lady Capulet, taking off his hat as a sign of respect.
“I was, Prince. And I swear on my mother’s grave that what Benvolio has told you is true,” the townsman said. “There were many others who saw the fight, too. I’m sure they would all say the same if you asked them.”
Prince Radu was silent for a moment. “Nevertheless, Tybalt and Romeo are both in violation of the treaty.”
“Yes, but Tybalt started this mess, Your Highness,” Benvolio reasoned. “In my humble opinion, executing Romeo does not seem like a just punishment.”
Romeo managed a weak smile. His cousin was going to such great lengths to save his life. How would he ever be able to repay Benvolio for his loyalty?
“Well, I have taken all the facts into consideration. I’m sure that your cousin was devastated when he saw his friend killed right in front of him. Still, he broke the law, and I cannot abide by that, regardless of the circumstances,” Prince Radu said. “Therefore, I will have my men put up notices around town. Romeo Montague is hereby exiled from Transylvania and all of Wallachia.”
“Pardon me, Your Highness, but what if he defies his sentence and refuses to leave?” Lady Capulet sounded completely exasperated. “The Montagues have plenty of allies here; they would certainly give Romeo sanctuary.”
“If Romeo is found within the borders of Wallachia, then the original punishment of execution will be enforced. I’ll put fifty men from my cavalry on patrol,” Prince Radu proclaimed. “And anyone who provides him with a place to hide will face imprisonment.”
“Thank you, sir,” Lady Capulet said.
Soon after the prince made his declaration, he and Lady Capulet followed his cavalry out of the village. As for Benvolio and the townsman, they wandered over to Mercutio’s body. Regardless of how many of Radu’s soldiers could be lurking around any corner, Romeo could not bear the sight of his cousin preparing to bury his closest friend.
So he opened the front door and ran as fast as his legs could carry him.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Juliet always loved being in the orchard in the evening. Usually, the sweet smell of citrus and the sound of leaves rustling in the wind would carry through the evening air and relax her. But tonight was different from any other. Hour after hour, Juliet’s body continued to undergo a slow metamorphosis, the hunger pains inside making her ravenous and almost crazed. She could only imagine how bad it was going to be tomorrow at midnight. However, she still could not fathom committing the act that would end this agony once and for all.
Juliet sat on a bench with her knees up to her chest, rocking back and forth to prevent herself from succumbing to anxiety. Although she was thankful to have returned to the castle without any of her relatives suspecting a thing, she was still a worrie
d newlywed. Tonight, she and Romeo should have been celebrating their marriage with a romantic honeymoon. But instead she was trapped—inside this wicked fortress, and within her own skin.
Romeo said they had to wait to escape, that it would be easier to disappear once she had finished her transformation. But her husband did not have all the facts. And he could not feel the intense physical anguish that Juliet was experiencing. Juliet shuddered as she remembered how deliriously happy Romeo was when they parted at the monastery. But how would he feel after tomorrow, when she became a full member of the undead?
“Miss Juliet! Miss Juliet!”
She looked up and saw her nurse galloping toward her with her arms raised in the air. Juliet could tell that something was wrong. She sprang up from the bench and greeted her nurse with a warm embrace.
“Has something happened to Romeo?” Juliet asked.
The nurse’s breath was quick and shallow, her eyes filled with tears. “Yes, my child. I come to you with terrible news.”
“Go on,” Juliet said, clenching her jaw and bracing herself.
The nurse began to sob and wiped her nose with the sleeve of her blouse. “I don’t know if I can bring myself to tell you this. You are in such a delicate state.”
“My state is more dire than delicate. Now I must know what happened,” Juliet said, her voice tense and agitated.
“It is such a tragedy. Words are escaping me,” the nurse whimpered.
All of a sudden a powerful bolt of anger ripped through Juliet.
“My patience is at an end!” She grabbed the nurse by the shoulders, shaking her so hard that the nurse’s bonnet fell right off her head. “You must tell me what you know!”
“He is dead, my lady!” the nurse blurted out. “Gone from this earth forever.”
Juliet dropped the nurse and crumbled to the ground. Her red eyes burned as tears formed, and all of her muscles became twisted like the vine of a rope.
“My husband is…dead?” she said in a faint whisper. “Now I despise God just as much as He despises me.”
The nurse crouched down and lifted Juliet’s chin up. “No, Juliet. Romeo is among the living. You should mourn for your cousin Tybalt.”
Never before had Juliet felt such contradictory feelings at the exact same time. She was elated and overjoyed that her darling Romeo was safe, but devastated and sickened that Tybalt’s immortal life had been cut drastically short.
“My heart has been torn in half,” Juliet said, her hands trembling as she cried. “Please, tell me what happened.”
The nurse wiped Juliet’s tears away with her fingertips. “Tybalt was killed in town during a street fight.”
“I always told him to be careful with that temper of his,” Juliet mumbled. “But he was never one to listen to reason.”
“He was a stubborn young man,” the nurse agreed. “And prideful, too. It’s a volatile combination.”
A flood of visions briefly resurfaced in Juliet’s mind—memories of her and Tybalt swimming in the castle’s pond and sneaking into the kitchen for late-night treats like honey cakes and yellow cheese; flashbacks of the first Montague raid, when Tybalt picked her up and carried her to safety from her chambers to one of the castle towers; the fine details of his face—his impish smile, rounded cheeks, and wide eyes that once glimmered blue—none of which she would ever see again.
Juliet bowed her head in sadness. “I hate the man who took my cousin away from me.”
There was a long, unnerving silence, which the nurse broke with a sorrowful voice.
“Then you hate the man you married, my lady.”
Juliet felt another angry, rumbling sensation in the pit of her stomach, and within moments, it spread throughout her body.
“Liar!” she shrieked. “Romeo would never do something that evil and treacherous. He told me himself that he has never harmed another creature.”
“He was provoked, madam. I went into town to do an errand and saw the clash firsthand, so did a crowd of witnesses,” the nurse stated.
Juliet closed her crimson eyes and tried to regain power over her body and soul. After a few deep breaths, she said, “Tell me everything.”
“Tybalt challenged Romeo to a duel, but your husband would not accept, in honor of the peace treaty. But then his friend Mercutio stepped in and battled Tybalt. After a lengthy fight, he overcame Mercutio and crushed the poor man’s neck with his bare hands.”
Juliet was slowly coming back to herself, the fury inside of her subsiding.
“After that, Tybalt tore into Mercutio’s flesh with his teeth and drank the man’s blood, right then and there.” The nurse dabbed at her runny nose with the hem of her skirt. “Romeo went wild with grief and fought Tybalt to the death. Now your cousin’s carcass is a trophy for the Montagues, and Romeo is exiled…he has vanished, my lady.”
“Nurse, you have to find him!” Juliet said. She was so consumed with grief, she felt as though someone had put his hands around her neck and was trying to choke her.
“You are at your wits’ end, madam. No. You must forget Romeo. He is just as dead as Tybalt as far as the government is concerned,” the nurse said.
Juliet pounced on the nurse, taking her hand and kissing it affectionately. “Oh, do not be vindictive, Nurse. I am so sorry for yelling at you—”
“I watched your cousin Tybalt go through the same changes,” the nurse interjected. “So I do understand. It’s difficult to control your impulses as you transition.”
“Then why won’t you do what I ask?”
“Because what you want is impossible to get. Romeo is banished. He has most likely traveled to the border of Moldova and crossed it. I cannot go after him.”
Juliet knew that her nurse was wrong. This afternoon, she had pledged her undying loyalty to Romeo, and he did the same in return, with just as much passion. The bond between them was unbreakable, even more so than the one Juliet had with her precious nurse. She knew that no circumstances, no matter how extreme, could ever force him to betray their love, no matter what anyone else believed to be true.
“He is still here, I can feel it all over,” Juliet said, slipping a turquoise ring off her right index finger. “Nurse, you must search for him at the monastery. Friar Laurence would certainly give him refuge. Then give this ring to my true knight, and bid him to come to the castle.”
“I beg you to let this go, Juliet,” the nurse implored. “You have other choices.”
“None that will make me happy!” Juliet barked. Another uncontrollable angry fit was about to seize her. “I have one more day before the transition. If I am separated from Romeo, I will not survive it.”
The nurse stood up and smoothed out her dress, then picked her bonnet off the ground and put it back on her head. Juliet saw that her nurse was near tears.
“I pray that you do, my child, because I don’t know if I could survive without you.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Romeo walked in circles within the confines of Friar Laurence’s cell, his hands and shirt still covered in Tybalt’s blood. His pulse was racing even faster than it had when he ran from the outskirts of town all the way to the monastery. Now he was trapped between four walls and could do nothing but fixate on the terrifying images of Mercutio’s vicious murder and Tybalt’s butchered head lying in the dirt.
Romeo tried to release the tension in his neck by tilting his head to the right and left, but it did not work. He attempted to console himself with the thought of Prince Radu’s leniency toward him, but that brought him no comfort either. Banishment would keep him from his precious Juliet—for who knew how long—and that would surely be torture.
He stopped pacing and stood in front of a stained-glass window in the friar’s cell, leaning his forehead against the glass as he gazed out into the woods. His hands trembled at his side, and his lower lip quaked. The realization of what he had done—willfully taken someone’s life—was fully sinking in.
Although Tybalt had instigated the fig
ht, and Romeo’s act of vengeance would probably be considered justified in the court of public opinion, he was drowning in guilt. If he hadn’t trespassed at the Capulets’ castle, none of this would have come to pass. But then he never would have met his soul mate.
…Who was also the cousin of the vampire he’d just slaughtered.
There was a knock on the door and Romeo’s breath caught in his throat.
“It’s only me.” The friar’s gentle voice echoed out in the hallway. “May I enter?”
Romeo sat down in a chair, sighing with relief. “Yes, of course.”
Friar Laurence came in carrying a large wooden bucket full of water. He struggled to get it across the room, small streams of liquid splashing to the ground as he walked.
“Here, I hope this is enough to clean you up.” Friar Laurence wiped a few beads of perspiration near his temples, then reached into his robe’s left pocket and brought out a bar of light green soap. “This is made with olive oil, so it should get rid of the bloodstains on your skin. I am not sure about your clothes, though.”
Romeo could barely look the friar in the eyes. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Friar Laurence responded. “Shall I leave you now?”
“No, I would like the company. I just…I don’t know what to say.”
“You are in shock. Anyone would be,” the friar said.
“Do you not know? We vampire-killing Montagues are made of steel,” Romeo said.
He stared at the spatter of blood across his shirt-sleeves, which must have come from Tybalt. The large bloodstain in the center was from when he had held Mercutio in his arms as his friend took his dying breath. The more Romeo looked at his shirt, the more enraged he became. He tore the shirt into pieces, throwing the shreds on the floor.
Romeo knelt down next to the bucket and scooped up some water with both his hands. He poured it over his face three times, and then he broke down into silent sobs, his shoulders shaking.
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