R+J Sucks

by Ann Hunter

  DEFY

  Romeo slid the napkin across Father Laurence’s desk.

  “I don’t understand, Padre. It was blank, and then these words were there. I wonder if I was dreaming. I swear they wrote themselves in front of me.”

  As Father Laurence looked more closely at the words, the blood drained from his face. “What did you say this girl’s name was again?”

  “Juliet Capulet.”

  Father Laurence pushed the napkin back to Romeo. “You do not know what you are dealing with, my son.”

  “Then tell me.”

  Father Laurence shook his head.

  “Please,” Romeo implored. “You seem to know everybody. I think she wanted to help me. I need to find work.”

  “Not with them.” Father Laurence took a lighter from his desk drawer, and motioned for Romeo to follow him.

  Romeo grasped the marked napkin and followed him.

  “The Capulets may have their names on hospital wings, but I have heard stories they are more than they seem. They come by their money in the darkest of ways.”

  Romeo’s brow furrowed. “Middle management?”

  “If it were only that innocent.”

  They emerged in the church garden, so thick with foliage the sun barely penetrated the courtyard. It was a beautiful retreat from the overbearing heat, even if it was humid from recent watering.

  “Those who align themselves with the Capulets are not of this world, Romeo. You would do well to ignore this invitation, for it may only lead to the loss of your body and soul.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Father Laurence reached for the napkin. “Do you trust my judgement, Senor Montague?”

  Romeo nodded slowly, passing the napkin to him.

  Father Laurence struck the wheel of the lighter and brought the flame to the edge of the napkin. “Then seek this no further.”

  Romeo watched his last hope go up in flame.

  Juliet watched her mother’s thralls mill about the banquet room preparing for the engagement feast. She couldn’t allow herself to think about Romeo, for her mother would instantly sense it. Perhaps because she had been the one to turn Tybalt, he could read them too. He had inherited some part of her when bitten long ago.

  Juliet picked at her nails. Why couldn’t she? Villiana had gestated her like any other natural creature, birthed her, and raised her like any mother would. That’s what made Juliet so rare; she was natural-born. Yet she barely knew her own strength. When she did, she might be expected to take her own thrall. To begin hunting with Tybalt.

  But tonight, she was in this room, trapped by her mother. She had insisted Juliet make the decisions about all the decorations, dining ware, music, but Juliet thought it was for appearances. Her mother seemed to be handling it all in stride, running the show as mothers do. Meanwhile the clock ticked closer to Count Paris’s arrival.

  Juliet watched the pendulum of the grandfather clock swing ominously. She laughed coldly to herself that she and her clan had immortality, yet they still kept time. What was the point of it all?

  “Do you like this?” Villiana held up a bright blush of flowers.

  Juliet answered passively, “Yes, Mother.”

  Would she like Paris? Did he have the same eagerness in his eyes as Romeo? Or would they be more hollow and infinite, like the rest of her clansmen?

  “It’s good you are thinking about Paris,” her mother crooned. “But who is this other boy?”

  “No one.”

  “No one?”

  Juliet pushed off from the wall she leaned against. “No one you need concern yourself over.”

  “Ohhh?” She didn’t sound convinced.

  Juliet sighed. “Someone I saw in a dream is all.”

  A dream world. A world she’d never know outside of what was expected of her as a daughter of the night.

  “May I be excused?” Juliet cleared her throat. “I’d like to make myself ready for Paris.”

  “Very well, dear.” Her mother sighed. “I only wish we had more help. We would have been done by now.” She waved Juliet off.

  Juliet kept her thoughts to herself, until she was far enough away from her mother. More help. Sure, add to the body count. Keep the blood banks full. Money and immortality, the be all, end all of the Capulets. No wonder Escalus wished to align with them.

  When she reached her room, she found Tybalt waiting for her. She sighed, feeling like she’d never get a moment to herself.

  “Let me guess. Mother has you on double duty,” she said, sounding more snide than she meant to.

  Tybalt shrugged. “She wants me to keep you occupied today.”

  Juliet pressed her fingers to her temples. She was occupied enough already.

  He crossed to her, lowering his face to hers to search her eyes. “I sense your stress.”

  Juliet cringed at the sensation of being scanned. She blocked Tybalt from her thoughts.

  Tybalt grimaced. “I know what’s really bothering you.”

  Juliet crossed to her window, peeking between the curtains. What would it be like to stay all day in the sun? To play in the surf, and lounge on a beach towel.

  Tybalt placed his hand on her shoulder. “You have to let him go, Jules. You can’t fall for the first human you meet. You’re not the little mermaid. You can’t be part of their world.”

  Her words faltered on her lips. “I can’t marry Paris.”

  “You might like him. He’s royalty. What more can you ask for? Give him a chance.”

  Juliet blew out a breath, but it released no tension. Her fingers tightened on the curtain as she realized she’d been groomed her entire life for tonight. To be everything Paris wanted. How could she have been so naive? Marry Paris. I can’t. I won’t.

  “Where you been?” Benvolio asked behind a thin cloud of reefer smoke when Romeo returned home.

  Romeo tossed his keys on the dining table. “Church.”

  Lio grunted.

  Romeo filed through the mail he brought in. “You’re not supposed to smoke in the house.”

  His brother leaned out the door. “I’m not.”

  “Mama will smell it anyway.”

  Benvolio growled and tossed the half-smoked joint on the ground, stomping it out. “Vato can’t relax ‘round here. Why you guys gotta be so uptight?”

  Romeo sighed. “We’re not uptight, Lio. We’re just tight. Can’t let no motas or chochos get between us. Got enough on our plates already without drugs ruining our family.”

  Lio muttered a string of Spanish swears under his breath.

  “Where were you the other night?” Romeo asked. “We went to the dance, and you disappeared.”

  “I hooked up with some parceros, and went uptown. You get with that girl?”

  Romeo frowned, still bothered by what Father Laurence told him. He took a pitcher of horchata from the fridge and poured a glass. “Her name’s Juliet.”

  “She pretty,” Benvolio said, pulling a chair out at the table.

  Romeo sat down. “Were you even there long enough to see her?”

  Lio grinned, taking Romeo’s glass. “Long enough to know I’d hit that if I were you, chico.”

  Romeo scowled, watching his brother down the stolen horchata. “She left in a hurry,” he confessed. “I can’t stop thinking about her.”

  “Tell me you got her digits.”

  Romeo took the empty glass back, and filled it again. “Not exactly.”

  “Man, y’gotta find her. You get her last name?”

  Romeo took a drink, cooled by the creamy rice milk with a hit of cinnamon. He set the glass down. “Now that, I did get.”

  Lio jumped to his feet. “Well let’s go then! Vamos!”

  Romeo scraped enough change together to take the bus to Verona Heights with Benvolio. Father Laurence’s warning only fueled Romeo’s curiosity. He told Lio what he knew, and what the good Padre had said. What was so bad about Juliet Capulet and her family? Why would anyone stay away from someone that be
autiful?

  The bus squealed to a stop a few blocks away from Capulet Manor. Romeo stuffed his hands in his pockets as he walked. He couldn’t get over all the perfectly manicured lawns, and vines blooming over security locked gates. The beach was a landscape of rainbow umbrellas dotted by swooping gulls. Did those who lived around here realize how lucky they were?

  Lio whistled, obviously impressed. “I wonder how much a grapa of talco goes for around here?” He broke into laughter. “Some big cacique be rollin’ in dineros somewhere!”

  Romeo rolled his eyes, only to catch Lio smirking at him.

  Lio said, “Wish I were him.”

  “There’s better ways to get money.”

  “Yeah. You, Mama, and Merc all think you doin’ some honest work, but you’re foolin’ yourselves. I know where the real cash is at, and I’m gonna fix things in our familia. You’ll see.”

  “Mama won’t want your drug money.”

  “She will if it solves our problems.”

  Finally, they strolled up to a white mansion, frocked with rose bushes around the front, and a mailbox marked Capulet. Romeo stood below, squinting against the sunshine into the windows above. How would he get Juliet’s attention? Which one was her room? Could he just go up to the door and ring the bell?

  Before Romeo could figure out a game plan, Benvolio shoved him toward the door. “Sigue! Go.”

  Romeo brushed off his shirt, trying to make himself look presentable. He scowled back at his brother, then walked up to the door. Romeo reached for the doorbell, but the door opened before he could press it.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” said a young woman.

  Romeo’s heartbeat danced into a samba. Although he couldn’t see Juliet, he recognized her voice. “I want to talk to you.”

  “I can’t. Not here.”

  “Why not?”

  Juliet coughed. “The sun hurts my eyes.”

  It sounded like she was lying, but he wouldn’t argue. “Is there somewhere else we could go?”

  She was quiet for a while. “The greenhouse out back. I’ll open the gates for you.”

  Romeo turned, waving for Benvolio to come with him. Juliet peeked out, her face shaded by the porch.

  Benvolio crowed when he saw her. “Please tell me you are eating her chalupa.”

  “Not him,” Juliet murmured.

  Romeo wanted to punch him. “Get lost, Lio!”

  Benvolio walked back down the path to the street, laughing the whole way.

  Romeo turned to apologize to Juliet, but the door was closed. He ambled to the end of the house, leaning around the corner. A gate opened without anyone making it do so. Father Laurence’s voice echoed in the back of his mind, Pursue this no further.

  For one brief moment, Romeo seriously considered it. A wooden gate opening itself wasn’t weird at all. Right? He took a deep breath and went forward. The gate shut behind him without assistance.

  Romeo glanced behind him, the hairs on the back of his neck coming to attention. He shook out his hands, like it would shake out his nerves. Looking back down the side of the house, he could see a large greenhouse a ways on.

  This side of the mansion was shaded very much like the church’s garden. Vines and roses clawed their way up the sides of the buildings. If he weren’t so nervous, he would have enjoyed the fragrance hanging heavy in the air.

  A curtained trellis joined the greenhouse to the main home. Romeo braced himself, wondering if he should really be here after all. Maybe Father Laurence was right. There were paths Romeo had walked that left him questioning everything he thought he knew. A door on the side of the greenhouse opened itself. It couldn’t be magic. These people were obviously rich enough to afford some seriously nice automation systems.

  “Romeo,” Juliet called from inside. Even her voice was haunting.

  He shivered, but there was some note of beguiled pleasure in it. One brave step forward spiraled him into a humid darkness. The door shut behind him, and an overwhelming sense of being swallowed up bore down on Romeo.

  It was all heat, and sweat, and earthy deliciousness that sent a thrill through him. And yet, a sense of danger and possibly death followed along.

  Someone’s breath flowed over his skin. Just when he thought this might be the end of his days, tiny lights, like stars, flickered on.

  Juliet stood nose to nose with him, looking like she glowed beneath moonlight. “Do you know why we grow roses?”

  Romeo shook his head, his breath racing.

  “Because thorns beget blood.”

  “Oooookay….”

  “He that dare not grasp the thorns should never crave the rose. I think you know I’m different from most girls.”

  Romeo couldn’t restrain the burning words racing from his thoughts “So, what? You got magic or somethin’?”

  If only it were simple as magic. Juliet could wink herself out of the upcoming nuptials, or wiggle her nose and be somewhere far, far away with this boy.

  “Not exactly.” She smiled slowly until her lips revealed her fangs.

  Romeo gasped, “What are you?”

  ENTHRALLED

  “You know what I am.” Juliet’s smile faded. “You’ve read it in books. You’ve seen my kind in movies. I’ll live forever, unfortunately.”

  “Ay caramba,” Romeo whispered hoarsely. He gulped so hard, Juliet saw his Adams apple dip. “Are you…” He caught his breath. “Are you gonna, y’know, gonna… eat me? Suck my blood’n stuff.”

  “If I wanted to, I would’ve done it by now.”

  “So you’re some kinda vegetarian?”

  Juliet laughed softly. “My parents think I’m too skinny.”

  Romeo made a sound so awkward and nervous, Juliet wasn’t sure if it were a laugh or not.

  “Are you going to run away from me?” she asked uneasily.

  “If I wanted to, I would’ve done it by now,” he blurted. Something in his eyes changed. He reached for her cheek tenderly. “I’m not running. Are you?”

  His touch was warm and deep, she wanted to lean into it, to never have it end. Juliet shook her head.

  Romeo leaned his forehead against hers. “I don’t care what you are, only who you are.” He inhaled deeply. “I really like you.”

  She wanted to say it back, but more pressing thoughts worked their way forward. “Why have you come?”

  Romeo’s smile made her die inside a little. “I had to know if you were real. I wanted to be sure I didn’t dream you up.”

  “If my parents knew you were here, they would kill you.”

  Her words only seemed to spur him on. “One angry look from you would be worse than twenty deaths from your relatives, with, I dunno… swords.”

  Juliet giggled. “Are you all like this?”

  “All who?”

  “Humans.”

  Romeo shook his head. “No. Mi hermano, Benvolio, the one that was with me, he’s kind of a chingado.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Romeo ran his thumb over the top of her hand, staring at the marble-like skin. “It’s not a very nice word.”

  She watched him intently, relishing the sensation of his touch, so warm and alive. It was gentle, and inquisitive. She quivered. “You’ve really come at a bad time.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m to be married.”

  His eager expression turned crestfallen. “Do you love him?”

  Juliet dared to touch Romeo back, to brush away a lock of his midnight hair, and search his eyes. “I barely know him.”

  “So why marry him? And, aren’t you, like, sixteen or something?”

  “It’s a political thing. An arranged marriage.” She stepped closer to him, if they could get any closer. “And, actually, I’m over a century old. One hundred and sixty to be exact.”

  Romeo whistled. “You age good.”

  She laughed.

  “So we can’t see each other no more?” he asked.

  Juliet tucked her lip, lowering her eyes. T
here had to be a way to spend one more day together, before Paris made plans to whisk her away forever. Think, Jules. Think.

  She remembered her mother saying they needed more help.

  “Did you really mean it when you said you aren’t afraid of my family?”

  Romeo nodded.

  She took a deep breath. “This is crazy, but I have an idea.”

  When Juliet had asked Romeo if he was truly unafraid of her kin, he wasn’t thinking she’d actually bring him in the house. He felt like the second he stepped through the door, every vampire head swung round and locked onto him like a piece of meat.

  “Act dumb,” Juliet whispered to him. “Pretend you’re a zombie. And try not to think, or they’ll know you’re still alive.”

  Romeo gulped, waddling in front of her. He allowed drool to dribble from the corner of his mouth, and made his face look as dazed as possible.

  Juliet guided him toward a grand staircase by clutching his shoulders, and giving him little shoves.

  Two vampires who looked old enough to be her parents raced down the staircase from opposite wings of the house. They took a stance at the top of the first flight, but the man put his hand out to stop the woman. Romeo desperately wanted to shriek. His stomach flip flopped like a crocodile in a death roll. The woman’s eyes burned with furor.

  “I smell human,” she said, sounding angry about being restrained by her mate. She was gloriously beautiful, like Juliet, but looked more like the night than the bright sun her daughter was.

  Juliet stopped Romeo at the base of the stairs, and headed up before him. “Mother, Father, I know I’m not supposed to go out alone, but last night I went hunting.”

  Juliet’s father took wooden strides down the stairs. He glared at Juliet, then continued down, looking like it took every inch of his power to control himself from frenzied hunger. He leaned toward Romeo, his nostrils flaring as he took in the boy’s scent. Juliet was her father’s carbon copy.

  She raced down to him, taking her father’s elbow. “I’ve taken him as my thrall. He’s still fresh.”

  Her father’s eyes narrowed, locked suspiciously on Romeo.

  Romeo stood stock still, his heart beating so fast it was agony. If he wasn’t sure he was going to die in the greenhouse, he was pretty damn sure now.