“I am not leaving until I see my wife,” he said with a ferocious glint in his eyes.
Count Paris seemed stunned by Romeo’s revelation. His red eyes widened and his brow wrinkled with confusion. Then he growled at Romeo like one of the Capulets’ hungry hellhounds.
“Juliet and I were married two days ago,” Romeo went on, his voice strong and, most of all, proud. “We were soul mates, do you hear me? The strength of our love can withstand anything—even death. But I doubt that is something you could ever understand.”
“You expect me to believe your lies?” Count Paris sneered. “Juliet would never stoop so low as to marry a Montague.”
Romeo reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out Juliet’s turquoise ring. He held it out in his palm and smiled. “If I am lying, then why would I have her most precious ring?”
Without warning, Count Paris grabbed hold of Romeo by the neck and slammed him against the door of the crypt. The ring dropped on the ground and rolled away.
“This is your fault!” he roared. “You killed her!”
Romeo tried to breathe, but the count’s grip was crushing his throat. Still, he managed to mutter, “I would never harm her.”
The vampire snarled with anger and threw Romeo to the ground, where he fell flat on his back. “Don’t you see? She starved to death because she would not feed on you.”
Romeo lifted his head and gazed upon the count in confusion. “You are insane.”
Count Paris zoomed toward Romeo and planted his boot on his neck, right underneath the chin. He applied all the weight of his body, pinning Romeo down and nearly suffocating him.
“The initiation rite—she had to kill a human by midnight and then drink all his blood, or else starve to death by the next morning,” the count disclosed.
Romeo’s eyes watered as the count pressed down even harder with his boot.
“Lord Capulet told me that he and Juliet’s mother pressured her into avenging Tybalt’s death by making you her first kill. And now it seems abundantly clear why she chose not to,” Count Paris said, his voice filled with fury.
As he began to lose consciousness, Romeo had little time to digest the meaning of what he had just learned. But when it sank in that Juliet had sacrificed her own life to save his, he was able to find the power within him to escape from the vampire’s death grasp. He grabbed the sole of Count Paris’s boot and pushed up hard with both arms. Once he had enough room, he rolled out from underneath the count’s foothold and scrambled away. Then he stood up, reached for his leg strap, and pulled out his parrying dagger. He held the handle firmly in his hands, his chest rising and falling with each quick breath.
“Our love is eternal,” Romeo said, pointing the dagger straight at the count. “Which is why neither you, nor anyone else, will prevent me from being with her.”
Count Paris snickered. “Tybalt was just an overgrown child. My powers and strength are far superior than his ever were.”
“Prove it, then,” Romeo said through gritted teeth.
Instantly, the count lunged at Romeo, tackling him at his torso and pushing him into the black wrought-iron gate that surrounded the crypt. Romeo almost let his dagger slip out of his fingers, but thankfully he held on. Still, Count Paris had managed to wrap a clawlike hand around his right wrist, preventing him from jamming the blade into the vampire’s back as he’d wanted to do. Romeo’s left shoulder was pinned against the gate by Paris’s other arm, so he was unable to swing at the vampire.
“How’s this for proof?” the count hissed as his jaw hinged open. It was obvious that the vampire was preparing to bite Romeo in the neck.
Romeo trembled for a brief moment, fearful that the count was about to kill him. But he found the nerve to face his enemy in spite of it.
“You’ll have to do more than that to convince me,” he said, ramming his right knee into Count Paris’s rib cage.
The vampire didn’t falter much—just a short cough—but his concentration broke long enough for Romeo to bring his head back and crash it against Count Paris, striking him between his blazing red eyes.
Count Paris stumbled backward and gave Romeo a little space to move, but Romeo remained in the vampire’s clutches. Paris twisted Romeo’s right arm so hard, Romeo thought it was going to snap.
“I will do whatever it takes to kill you,” the vampire said.
“Excellent, then I will live happily with Juliet in heaven,” Romeo proclaimed, plowing his left fist into the count’s temple.
Paris was stunned, but quickly regrouped and landed a swift, hard kick to Romeo’s left leg, causing it to wobble beneath him. Then the count swiped at Romeo with a fierce, monstrous hand, which spliced open his opponent’s cheek.
As streams of blood trickled down his shirt collar, Romeo thought this might be the end of him. Perhaps he should give up. Yes, he wanted to see Juliet’s body before he died, but if the vampire killed him now, he would be spared the agony of holding his love in his arms for the very last time.
However, when Count Paris growled into his ear, “If Juliet let a wretched Montague defile her body, then it’s probably best that she’s dead,” Romeo’s will to fight was renewed.
With a ferocious yell, he shoved the count away from him with his left shoulder, whipping his wrist out of Paris’s hand in one rapid movement. He thrust his dagger straight ahead, but the vampire dodged it with a nimble duck.
“Well, that certainly lit a fire under you,” Count Paris said, laughing.
Romeo tried to catch him again, but Paris leaped up in the air like a vicious panther. When the vampire came down, he jammed his elbow straight into Romeo’s collarbone, sending unbelievable pain through Romeo’s arm and causing him to drop his dagger.
Romeo quickly bent down and tried to recover it, but the vampire planted his foot on the dagger and kicked it at least twenty feet away, under the wrought-iron gate and far out of Romeo’s reach.
Count Paris rolled his neck back and forth, readying himself for his final assault. “Prepare to take your last breath, Montague!”
Romeo’s eyes flitted about, looking for anything he could turn into a weapon. There was little around him, but behind Count Paris was an enormous tree with some low-hanging branches. Drenched in sweat and aching all over, Romeo didn’t have time to consider a plan thoroughly. So when Count Paris came flying at him, he charged the vampire as well.
For a few seconds, everything slowed down in Romeo’s mind. The count’s pursuit seemed to freeze in time and he was able to exhale long enough to regain his strength. Then the world began to spin again and the vampire was speeding toward him.
At the last possible moment, Romeo dipped down to the dirt floor and slid underneath the count’s legs.
The vampire spun around in the air as Romeo ran for the tree. Count Paris gave chase while Romeo reached up and hastily broke off a branch with his bare hands. As his pulse raced, Romeo snapped it over his knee and jutted the sharp, jagged edge of the wood directly in front of him. The lightning-fast Count Paris didn’t see it coming. He flew at Romeo at full speed, the branch puncturing his chest and piercing his heart.
Romeo watched in relief as some of the life drained from the vampire’s scarlet red eyes. But much to his surprise, Count Paris swiftly clamped his hands on Romeo’s throat and squeezed.
“I’m n-not through with y-you yet,” he stammered as he choked Romeo with his fingers.
Apparently Count Paris had not been exaggerating about his powers. He truly was one of the strongest vampires in Transylvania, if not the strongest of all. But as he gasped for air, Romeo realized that he had one last chance to defeat the count. He remembered that there were two vials in his trouser pockets—one that was filled with poison and another that was filled with holy water.
As he dug feverishly through both his pockets, Romeo’s throat began to close up. Count Paris was putting every ounce of his depleting energy into tightening his grip on his neck. The two smooth vials slipped out of his fin
gers once, but he finally grabbed hold of the one in his right pocket. Romeo did not know which vial he had in his hand; however, he would find out as soon as he splashed the contents onto the vampire’s face.
Coughing and wheezing, Romeo uncapped the vial and immediately poured every drop of the liquid onto Count Paris’s head and body. The vampire instantly let go of him, screaming in absolute agony; then he fell on the ground, writhing around in pain.
Romeo shuddered in disgust when he saw clouds of smoke rising off of the count’s skin. His flesh was burning right off of his bones. In less than a minute, the vampire was reduced to a pile of bloody pulp, and Romeo was finally victorious.
Rubbing his aching neck, Romeo surveyed the ground. He looked everywhere for a glint of a turquoise stone, and after only a few minutes of searching, he found it in a patch of dry grass. He picked the ring up, blew off the dirt, and rubbed it on his cloak until it shined.
Then, the smell of death billowing up into the evening sky, Romeo Montague went in search of his wife.
CHAPTER TWENTY
After the funeral, Juliet had been laid on a flat slab of marble in the center of her tomb, with her hands folded neatly on her chest. She had been dressed in the gorgeous silk dupioni gown her nurse had laid out for her the night before her unconscious body had been found. The clergyman had closed her eyes shut before he began the proceedings, so all she could do now was hear.
And Juliet had heard plenty during her eulogy. More weeping from her inconsolable mother and nurse. Her father had cursed her soul more than once. But what was still ringing in Juliet’s ears was the whispering from the other vampires who had come to her funeral to pay their respects.
“You have to admire the girl for sticking to her principles,” one gentleman had said.
“I would have admired her more if she had married Count Paris,” a woman had replied. “I doubt he will help us with Prince Radu now.”
Juliet knew that the woman had spoken the truth. The count had been so upset by his future bride’s suicide that he’d left before the funeral had concluded. But as much as it hurt to accept that her actions carried such great consequences for others, if Juliet was given the chance to repeat the last twenty-four hours, she would not change a thing. What she had done was done in the name of true love—none of the Capulets, not even her repentant mother, would ever understand.
Just then, the sound of footsteps created a large booming echo inside the crypt. Juliet knew that it was Romeo, coming to fetch her, just as Friar Laurence had promised. Oh, how she wished that she could move any part of her body. She would have given anything and everything to wake up from this trance and run to her husband. She couldn’t bear being in this strange state much longer.
As the footsteps came closer, Juliet imagined what her life with Romeo would be like once the friar performed the purification process. She would be her true self again—a young, vibrant, happy woman, not a vampire. She would bear children with him and grow old with him. They would build a cottage with a stone chimney and have a flower garden, somewhere in the hills, far away from Transylvania. They would read to each other by the fireplace, and hold each other in bed as they drifted off to sleep. To Juliet, there was nothing more perfect and beautiful than this daydream, and as soon as the friar’s potion wore off, it would become reality.
Any second now.
The sound of footsteps stopped just outside the tomb’s entrance, and there was a long-drawn-out pause. Juliet’s heart was pounding with anticipation. But then she was startled by a deep, distraught cry—one that she had hoped to hear emerge from her father’s mouth, but never materialized, not even at the funeral.
Juliet’s excitement turned to fright as the sobbing became louder. This could not be her Romeo. He would have been bouncing off the tomb’s walls with happiness, knowing that they were only hours away from being free and together forever. Perhaps it was her father, finally coming to his senses and mourning his only child. However, once the crying subsided, the voice she had waited all night and day to hear whispered softly and tenderly, right into her ear.
“Juliet, my love. What have you done?”
It was Romeo, without a shred of doubt.
“Why would you not wait for me?”
Juliet’s mind was flooded with an ocean of confused thoughts. All she had done was try to save herself, and she was waiting for him—just like the friar had instructed. Juliet tried to move her lips and respond to Romeo, but she was still paralyzed, from the tips of her toes to the crown of her head.
“Oh, God, I cannot take this any longer. My wife, my friend, my everything is dead,” Romeo muttered.
Juliet let out a bloodcurdling scream, and yet there was nothing but silence. How could Romeo think she was actually dead? Did he not know of Friar Laurence’s plan? Had there been some kind of misunderstanding? Juliet’s dream was quickly turning into a nightmare from which she was desperate to awake.
The potion should be wearing off soon. She prayed over and over again that Romeo would stay here in the tomb until it did.
“Juliet, I made a vow to love you in all ways and for all seasons,” Romeo professed, his voice drained of its natural light and luster. “Since you are no longer of this place and time, I will join you in the next realm.”
These words of misery and hopelessness gave Juliet a new wave of panic. Inside, she was wailing and begging God to spare her husband. If she could open her eyes and mouth, everything would be fine. Then she felt it—a slight tingling sensation at the bottoms of her bare feet that was gradually traveling up her calves toward her knees.
“This world would never accept us. Our families would rather see us dead than married,” Romeo said bitterly. “But in heaven, we will be what we should have been, and more. So now I sip this poisonous brew, and lie down and die right beside you.”
The tingling sensation had moved through the upper half of her body, almost reaching her neck and head. Juliet willed every limb and sense of hers to come back to life. She had to get to Romeo before he reached the point of no return.
Juliet’s hands were the first parts of her body to become mobile, then her arms. She reached down toward her belly and felt Romeo’s head, lying there, still. She ran her fingers through his hair, hoping this would rouse him, but it did not. Her legs were given back their circulation, and soon after that, she could sit up somewhat.
Although every part of her ached all over, Juliet’s heart hurt worst of all, especially when her eyes fluttered open and she saw Romeo slumped over her. There was a large cut on his face and an empty vial lying on the floor near his boots. Juliet had not regained her speech yet, so she shook Romeo as hard as she could. There was no response.
Juliet put her ear next to Romeo’s lips—she could feel no air passing through them. Then she put her hand on top of his chest, which was no longer rising and falling. Once she realized just how bleak Romeo’s fate was, her mouth hung open and out came the most calamitous and pitiful shriek. Tears poured out of her red eyes and down her white cheeks as her shoulders shook and head hung low. Finally, her voice had returned.
“Wake up, darling! Wake up, I am here,” Juliet whimpered as she kissed Romeo on the back of his neck. “It is time to see the friar. He’s going to make me human again.”
However, with each moment that ebbed away without any movement from Romeo, Juliet lost hope that he would ever awaken or that she would return to Friar Laurence. For why would she want to live—as a human or vampire—in a place where her dearest, most precious love would never be with her?
“This is pure torture,” Juliet moaned as she gently rolled Romeo off of her and placed him on the ground. “It hurts to talk or see or even breathe.”
After running her hand down the side of his bloodstained cheek and the center of his chest, she frantically reached for the vial from which Romeo had taken his fatal sips.
“I could wait hours to starve, but I am not that strong,” Juliet said to herself.
Sh
e dipped her head back and opened her mouth, tapping the vial above it with her fingers so that she could swallow a few drops. Unfortunately, the container was bone dry.
“God, whatever sin I am being punished for, please, take me now and end my suffering!” Juliet shouted through another surge of tears.
There was no sign sent down from above, so Juliet leaned over her husband’s body, laying her head down near his shoulder. She did not hear it at first, for the sound of her crying was reverberating throughout the cold tomb. But when she finally settled down, she was able to hear a faint rhythm coming from her beloved’s heart.
This was an absolute miracle, but Juliet had no time to rejoice. There was only one way that she could save him, and that was to turn him into a bloodthirsty vampire. When she thought about doing this without Romeo’s consent, she felt a throbbing ache in the center of her chest. But when she considered the alternative, the ache penetrated every part of her.
So Juliet closed her eyes and summoned a power that had been flowing through her body for days, a power that she had hoped she would never have to use. Juliet craned her neck back, feeling a hot spring of energy explode inside of her. With all of her strength, she pulled Romeo toward her, his head hanging back.
She inhaled deeply and opened her mouth. Two of her top and bottom teeth transformed into fangs. She brushed a lock of Romeo’s hair away from his neck with her long fingernails and stared at a purple vein winding down from behind his ear toward his collarbone. Then she leaned over, skimmed her lips against his skin, and dug her pointed teeth into his neck.
With each drop of Montague blood that she swallowed, Juliet could feel a larger, more significant transformation taking place inside of her. While she could sense that parts of her body were shutting down—including her heart—other parts, like her bones and muscles, were swelling with a type of kinetic energy that was completely indescribable. It made her feel like she could climb to the top of the highest peak in the Carpathian Mountains or swim across the ocean in a matter of minutes. She prayed that the same thing would happen to Romeo after all this was over.
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