Romeo and Juliet and Vampires - Claudia Gabel

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low, hungry growl that was seething with anger. He instinctively rubbed a garlic clove between his fingers. “Mercutio, you said we were invisible to vampires and werewolves.”

      A thin stream of moonlight illuminated two pairs of beady golden eyes and salivating mouths with sharp teeth.

      “But not to dogs,” Mercutio said, his voice wavering.

      Romeo gulped as the two snouts sniffed the air for fear.

      “This is bad,” Benvolio said.

      “Very bad,” Romeo agreed.

      Once one of the dogs had lunged at them, there was nothing left to do but—

      “Run!” Benvolio proclaimed, and took off like a scared rabbit.

      Without a second to lose, Romeo broke into a fast sprint, with Mercutio scrambling alongside him and the dogs in hot pursuit. Romeo ran through a cluster of stone bunkers and over a wooden footbridge that crossed a small moat. Mercutio put forth a burst of momentum and dashed past Romeo, which annoyed him immensely.

      With both his mates ahead of him, Romeo was tempted to look back and see how close the dogs were, but that would only slow him down. Besides, their ferocious barking was ringing in his ears, so he knew they were on his heels.

      “This way! “ Mercutio called out from a few feet ahead.

      Romeo was running so hard he was barely able to breathe. He locked his gaze on Mercutio, who had reached the window of the ground floor and dropped to his knees in front of it. Mercutio quickly felt around a thick swathe of grass with both hands, searching for the hidden door handle. He pulled the door open to reveal a secret entrance to an underground tunnel.

      “Hurry!” Mercutio waved at Benvolio and Romeo.

      Benvolio got there first, leaping into the entrance-way like a flying acrobat. Romeo was three or four steps away when he felt something tug hard at the bottom of his cloak. There was another sharp yank on his arm and he was dragged to the ground. While the dogs gnawed on his cloak, he tried to reach for the mason chisel he had lodged in the waistband of his trousers, but he could not grasp it. He said a short prayer, just in case he didn’t survive the brutal mauling about to unfold.

      Luckily for Romeo, the dogs let go of him willingly, in order to chase down large chunks of raw meat that had just been tossed into a row of rosebushes. He glanced up and grinned at Mercutio, who was standing above him with a light glaze of blood on his hands.

      “Maribel’s a smart one.” Mercutio beamed. “She left some treats for the dogs at the foot of the door. I guess they haven’t eaten in a while.”

      “Well, that much is obvious,” Romeo replied. “Let’s get out of here before they are ready for dessert.”

      Mercutio held a hand out to Romeo, and he took it in his, bloodied and all. When he was back on his feet, he gave Mercutio a heartfelt smile.

      “Mercutio, I owe you my life,” he said.

      “Romeo, I am your friend. You owe me nothing.” Mercutio placed a hand on Romeo’s shoulder and grinned. “Now come on. You have a half-breed to woo.”

      Romeo smiled and shook his head, then followed Mercutio down into the secret tunnel.

       CHAPTER FIVE

      The life had practically been squeezed out of Juliet’s hand when her mother finally let go. Lady Capulet had dragged her to the edge of the dance floor, where an older, impeccably dressed vampire floated at attention before her. As Juliet shook out her pink fingers, hoping to revive them, she became distracted by all the graceful couples who moved in choreographed unison to the music. But when she felt Lady Capulet nudge her forcefully in the shoulder, Juliet’s eyes shot back to the man who her mother obviously wanted her to meet.

      “I apologise for our tardiness, my lord,” Lady Capulet said with a dutiful curtsy. “Welcoming the prince took longer than expected.”

      “Oh, an apology is unnecessary,” the vampire replied as he stared intently at Juliet. “Although I’msetting eyes on her for the first time, I can already tell that meeting your daughter has been worth the wait.”

      Juliet stifled a laugh. The vampire’s charm was so uninspired and clichéd, it was comical.

      “Juliet, this is Count Paris. He has come a long way to see you,” her mother said eagerly.

      A flash of prickly heat was quickly visible upon Juliet’s cheeks. This was certainly the same Count Paris who had written to her.

      “Hello, sir,” she muttered, and bowed her head in respect.

      The count raised an expectant eyebrow and smirked. “Would you care to dance, Miss Juliet?”

      “She would love to,” Lady Capulet answered, gently pushing her daughter towards Count Paris.

      Almost instantly, Juliet was swept away by the count for a saltarello, a courtly dance that included box steps, twirls, and promenades. Count Paris stood next to Juliet, then reached behind her and put his right hand on her waist. As Juliet extended her left arm out to the side, he took her left hand in his.

      “I haven’t danced in ages. This will be great fun,” he said cheerfully.

      Juliet gave him a faint smile. Somehow she felt that dancing with him would be quite the opposite.

      And she was absolutely right. With each step, the count’s grip on her waist became tighter and tighter. Sometimes, she swore that she could feel his nails clawing through the lace panels of her dress. But regardless of how uncomfortable she was, she managed to keep an airy expression on her face, because everyone at the ball—including a delighted Lady Capulet—was gawking at her as she danced in his arms.

      “This music reminds me of my childhood in Bulgaria. My mother loves the sound of the panflute,” Count Paris said in an attempt to make small talk. “Have you ever been there?”

      “No, my lord. I’m afraid I haven’t travelled much outside Wallachia,” she replied.

      Count Paris ran his hand down her back. “I have a strong feeling that is all about to change.”

      Juliet glanced over at the performer who was currently blowing into the panflute, willing him to cease playing so that she could excuse herself from this awkward encounter. But from the way Count Paris was breathing heavily in her ear, she could tell that her partner wanted the music to last until the first hint of morning light.

      “Your parents never mentioned how beautiful you are,” the count murmured as he spun Juliet out to his left side and then back again.

      She tried not to roll her eyes. “I suppose Lord and Lady Capulet do not like to boast.”

      Juliet did not have the heart to tell Count Paris that she knew little about him, other than what he’drevealed in the letter he’d written. Nor did she have the nerve to say that while the “blessing” of immortality—and perhaps even the quality of human blood—had kept vampires rather young and virile over the years, it didn’t necessarily make all of them attractive. With his pointy chin, bulbous nose, and ears that stuck out like an elephant’s, Count Paris was proof of that.

      Still, Juliet was not as shallow and fickle as other maidens her age. She believed that a person’s soul was to be loved above their physical appearance, which is why she found Count Paris’s leeriness more disturbing than the large mole upon his chin. Apparently, the vampire in front of her was not the cordial gentleman he presented in his letter.

      Count Paris led Juliet into a short promenade, floating slightly above the floor with a proud look in his blazing red eyes. “No one should be modest when describing you, my dear.”

      “You are most kind.” Juliet tried to think of a reason to take leave of him—an ill-fitting shoe? a severe

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