Romeo and Juliet: A Vampire and Werewolf Love Story (2 page)

BOOK: Romeo and Juliet: A Vampire and Werewolf Love Story
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In the madness, I had been given a gift from the gods. I had been given visions of a wondrous place. A place of peace, of hope and love. I had only seen it in my dreams, but on this night, I felt that my special place was near, as if I could almost touch it with my hands. Of late, something had come over me and it was only intensifying. I looked up at the stars and the full moon that pierced my mind’s eye with a pull that I knew well. I howled into the night sky. I howled from my deep place, where I had only seemed to been able to howl from as of late. I had been told that my howl was unique in that it had both the sounds of music playing and the reverence of a man crying out in prayer. It was a howl that had reduced some to tears when they heard it, such was its unique vibration, timbre, tone, and range. It was a yodel from across the Alps, a chorus of angels with one harmonized chord. My howl is my prayer and my song of all that I was, aonshat I wll that I am, and all that I shall be. Inside of me roiled a yearning for something more, hungering for something more. I howled in agony and ecstasy until tears dripped from my face and wet my body like scorching rain.

When I was finished, I looked over my city of Verona and cried out so loud that my throat roared, “My name is Romeo Montague and I
am
a Werewolf!”

 

 

Chapter Two

 

I stood up from the top of Miss Liberty’s shoulder and ran down her leg to the base of the statue. Once reaching the base, I leaped the final 200 feet to the ground below. When I hit the earth, I felt an incredulous freedom to be able to fly through the air. Yes, I was falling rather than flying, but it was all the same as far as I was concerned. It was the feeling of freedom.

Something had come over me the past two months that had caused me to long for somewhere else. I had a strong desire to find my place, my special place, the one that I had only seen in my dreams.

I slowly made my way to the back of the mighty statue. I turned from my werewolf form back to my human form. The best part about going from wolf to human was having hands again. Opposable thumbs were nice. Although I had mastered the art of holding a rapier in my wolf form—a rapier is what we call our silver stakes—silver stakes are the weapon of choice around these parts. They did more damage to an immortal, far more than an automatic weapon ever could.

I continued to walk behind the statue to a spot where the island was roped off right before the Hudson River. There was a restroom just to the left of the area. I fixed my hair in the reflection of the window with the help of an island lantern. My light brown hair flopped over and I pulled my hair back. I did my business and stepped outside the restroom then walked over to the roped-off area.

I looked out into the night over the Hudson. The beauty that was before me was possibly the most beautiful creation I had ever seen. This visual that was set before my eyes was my sanctuary. I didn’t have much of that in a place this corrupt. But where I was standing, watching the waves break into the shore on the island and looking out in the cool night sky, this was church in my book. My special place. Not as special as the place I had seen in my dreams, but as special of a place could be in times such as these.

I often came out to this island just to digest the magnitude of such a grand place. Even in today’s world, New York City, or Verona, had a pulse unlike any other place. What were once New Yorkers going through the daily grind, in which Wall Street brokers and homeless people shared the same subway, now a whole new breed of survivors existed in the great city. Survival of the fittest had been a mantra that most people lived by, even before Darwin coined the term many years ago.

This was my favorite spot to be in the world, facing the beautiful skyline without a worry in the world. Who was I kidding? I had many worries. I was a werewolf, and there were a lot of people who would like to see me and others like me dead and completely wiped out.

Something had come over me in the last few days. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but I felt as if I was being led toward a goal. Something of majestic quality. A force so powerful that it brought tears to my eyes.

I remember the exact spot where I had felt the feeling for the first time. I was working, not that far away from here, at the butcher shop with Friar Laurence. Friar Laurence was my boss and my second father. I had worked for him since I was little boy.

On this particular day, I was ringing up a customer and suddenly, a power came over my body. It was a euphoria far greater than any that could be chemically manufactured. For the first time in my 18-year-old life, I felt hope, joy, and redemption, all in one mind-blowing moment. It nearly made me pass out.

All I knew was that the feeling was the closest I had ever felt to being in my Utopian dream. I know in my heart that it was a sign. I knew they were related. The only person I had ever mentioned the dream to was my best friend, Mercutio.

Mercutio is part of Prince Escalus kinsmen. He is a cousin to Paris on his mother’s side. Mercutio is the black sheep of the family because he falls into the special two percent. Only two percent of all immortals had the ability to do magic. So, nearly every human learned it to keep things on a level playing field. It was the underworld’s way of providing balance. It was balanced except when someone got the best of both worlds. Mercutio was one of the lucky ones. All the strength of an immortal and all the witchcraft of a warlock. In many ways, he was a better warlock than he is werewolf. He loved the concept of being immortal. Who could blame him? It takes such a specific injury to kill an immortal that it’s almost impossible to kill us.

In our case, we wanted no part of the rapier, or silver stake, anywhere near our hearts. It was much harder to kill a vampire and definitely one of their selling points during their recruitment process. You can kill a vampire, but cramming a silver stake from one side of their neck and out the other, it’s pretty gruesome. So, that is what I heard. I had never seen one killed.

I came out here so I didn’t have to think about what went on back at home. The problem is, when it was time to reflect, it was all I could think about. I didn’t want to think about silver stakes and automatic weapons. That was the life I left behind in Verona, one that was filled with worry and wondering who wanted to hurt me, and lurked behind every corner of the city. That is why I liked to come here. I liked seeing all comers head my way. There were no surprises on this island. Everything was out in the open. That’s the way I liked it.

As I stared out into the Hudson River and watched the wave break lightly on both sides, I was reminded of what was beautiful and what was harsh about this world.

Verona not only had a high population of both vampires and werewolves. There was a third entity and one that is just as dangerous. Just about every human learns witchcraft. Humans who chose not to take part in the art of immortality could choose a life skill that would at least help them defend themselves from ruthless immortals who wanted their blood and meat.

Humans banded together in their warlock and witch covens. They were not nearly as strong as we are, but they were mighty in numbers, and now the fact that the Prince Escalus, the new Prince of Verona himself, was one itylf, wasof them, they might start to want to clean up and get out all the immortals. So, we were all on our toes around each other. Unfortunately, the only way to defeat muscle is by cash. The Capulets were rich, but the Ruling House of Verona was filthy rich. Werewolves and vampires might run the city from the inside out, but the face of our city was the Prince Escalus, and his second-in-command, Count Paris. They truly ran the city, because at the end of the day, they had the final say on anything in regard to laws and police force.

Suddenly, out from nowhere, I got tackled off my feet. I fell to the ground and someone was wrestling me. I had a problem, however; my attacker was invisible. The person pinned me down and then I felt my nose get pinched and I heard the sound of my best friend honk as he did so.

 

 

Chapter Three

 

 

“What’s up, Mercutio?” I laughed. “Just when I thought I had a perfect hideaway, you were able to sneak up on me.”

“Stealth is my middle name.” Mercutio used his magic and he reappeared. “You and this island just need to get a room and just get it over with. If I see you kneel down and kiss the ground that you walk on, I’m going to puke.”

I looked at Mercutio and grinned. “Very well, then. I’ll refrain from making love to the island in your presence. Far be it from me to make my best friend hurl. But why do you bother me out here when you know I want to relax and have some alone time?”

“Well, excuse me, my dear Romeo. I didn’t realize you were having quality alone time. Nor did I realize that you were claiming this island as your own personal space. I know that you and the island like to get more and more intimate as the night wears on. I just wasn’t aware you were ready to make sweet love with it. I can stand behind the restroom area if you need to finish whatever you need to finish.”

“To what do I owe this pleasure of your presence?” I said to Mercutio, completely ignoring his last statement.

“We are all meeting at Kensey’s Pub later.”

“Who’s we?”

“Who else? Your cousins and all of the man servants you call friends.”

“Abram is not a man servant,” I said, laughing.

“His job is to wipe your ass if you need it to be done. I call that a man servant.”

“I would never ask Abram to do anything that I wouldn’t do myself. I tell you what, you can have his services for a week. I know you are dying for the chance to see him in action.”

“Nah. I can wipe my own butt, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

“Your loss. He could teach you a thing or two.”

“Seriously, Romeo, what are you doing out here? It’s not normal to keep going off by yourself to sulk. Ke”

“I’m not sulking.”

“Well, you haven’t been yourself lately.”

“Hopefully, I’ve been better.”

“I wouldn’t say better. I’d say weirder. Your head seems like it’s in the clouds. Come back to Earth, Romeo. It’s a lot more fun in the Prince’s new Verona than seeing you stare off into the sky with a glazed, smitten look on your face.”

“Verona-shmerona,” I said. “Manhattan will always be Manhattan. You can rename it all you like, but the borough lives on in infamy.”

“So, what is it exactly that you do out here?”

“Dream.”

“Dream? Isn’t that is what your bed is for? Well, besides that other thing…” Mercutio winked. He always liked to prick at me with his unsubtle humor.

“Mercutio, you know better than anyone that this isn’t all there is. That somewhere just over the horizon is a better place. What we can see and touch is just the beginning of what exists. There’s…a place…not like the way it is here.”

“What’s wrong with the way it is here?”

“Everyone hates each other. Everyone is suspicious of one another. Everyone is out for themselves.”

“That’s why you need a strong dose of Mary’s Blessing.” Mary’s Blessing was a special serum that Mercutio and his mentor, Apos Apothecary, discovered one day while they were developing new magic.

“I don’t do chemicals,” I replied. “You know me. I’m all about the organics.”

“You drink, don’t you?”

“Yeah… so?”

“Alcohol is a chemical.”

“The chemicals and magic you deal with are on a whole other level. The recipe for alcohol is basically, just mix yeast and sugar with grain and walk away until it’s time to strain and bottle it. The worst that has happened to me from alcohol is the headache the next day and your embellished recollections of how I made a spectacular ass of myself the night before. But with Mary’s Blessing, that’s another story. You’ve told me you have been MIA in your own brain for eighteen hours at a time.” I shuddered involuntarily.

“That’s the beauty of Mary’s Blessing, Romeo. It takes you to the place. All you have to is show up.”

“The way you have described this place, Mary’s Blessing, and where it takes you—it is very similar to what I feel in my dream,” I said plainly. “Removed from reality and immersed in a sublime magnificent peaceful place.”

“Imagine going there whenever you like.”

“Getting high?”

“It’s not a high. It’s not a drug-induced state you’re in. The serum
ls t size=
takes
you there. It might only be in your mind, but you are 100 percent there.”

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