Romeo & Juliet & Vampires by William Shakespeare Page B

nurse.”
    â€œHello, Friar.” Juliet was thankful he had not greeted her with an awkward stare, for her appearance was not particularly bridelike. While there was no way to hide her demonic eyes, she crossed her arms in front of her chest so that he would not see her hands.
    â€œThis way, my lady.” The friar held out his arm, just as a dutiful escort would. “Romeo awaits your presence in my private cell.”
    Juliet took his arm, but glanced over her shoulder, gazing longingly at her nurse. “You promise to wait for me?”
    The nurse nodded and squeezed Juliet’s shoulder affectionately.
    Once Juliet was inside the monastery, her nervousness began to escalate. Although she wanted nothing more than to be with Romeo forever, there were somany unfamiliar and distressing urges crawling up and down her nearly snow white skin. As the friar led her through winding halls and countless rooms, she noticed that he had a small cut on his chin—most likely a scrape from shaving. But Juliet did not see this with her eyes.
    She could smell his blood, even though it was drying.
    The aroma was so distinct—like the scent of meat cooking on an open fire—and contact with it was beginning to intoxicate her. She could feel her mouth watering, and her head becoming light. She was using every ounce of willpower she had to steer her mind’s focus where it belonged—on the eternal commitment she was about to make to Romeo Montague.
    â€œHere we are, Juliet,” the friar said, stopping in front of a door that wasn’t much taller than he himself. “Are you ready?”
    Regardless of the burgeoning love in her heart, Juliet could barely tear her eyes away from the friar’s chin. Thankfully, she was able to shake herself out of her trance and nod.
    The friar opened the door slowly and Juliet was met with the glorious glow of hundreds of purple candles, nestled firmly in waist-high cast-iron candlesticks. The windows were cracked open, and the breeze from outside sent the curtains billowing. There was a long, silken, silver carpet leading to an altar at the far endof the room, which was covered with cream lace cloth. Standing by that altar, dressed in a dark blue velveteen jacket, his hair neatly combed and a red rose in his hand, was Romeo.
    Juliet wanted to sprint across the room and hold him in her arms. From the gigantic grin on Romeo’s face, it seemed as though he wanted to do the same. Juliet was so enraptured that she felt like she was flying through the heavens like an angel.
    But then Juliet saw a shadow fall over Romeo’s eyes and watched his mouth drop open in shock.
    â€œJuliet,” he said in disbelief.
    She thought Romeo might have been taken aback by her newly red eyes, but when the friar let go of her arm slowly and stepped away to gape at her in awe, she knew something else was horribly amiss.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?” Juliet said frantically.
    Romeo gestured to her feet. Juliet looked down and saw that her delicate beige high heels were hovering six inches above the ground.
    â€œOh my God,” she said, and gasped.
    When her knees buckled and it seemed like she might crash to the floor, Romeo took off running, letting the rose flutter down to the carpet. But instead of barreling out the door, as Juliet suspected he might, he rushed to her side, catching her limp body in his arms. Juliet could not stop herself from sobbing, and Romeocradled her until there were no more tears left for her to cry.
    Despite the strange appearance of her clawlike fingernails, Juliet ran one of her hands through Romeo’s hair, which felt just as she had expected it to—soft as goose down. As she stared at him, her worries about their future slowly began to dissolve.
    Romeo gently pressed his forehead against hers, gazing deep into her flaming eyes. Juliet saw no doubt reflected back at her, or fear or futility. All that existed was the sparkle of