Juliet

Time stops, space ceases to exist, my heartbeat being the only thing still moving in the universe. I stand in place, arms slightly away from my body, as if seeking balance. All I see is black. I blink, my eyes automatically trying to adjust to the darkness, but it’s like someone just killed the spotlights in a theatre, with me on the stage. I can’t see anything ahead, but just as I begin to panic, a small stream of light begins to trickle in from the ceiling. The light grows slowly until liquid mirrors become visible around the room.

A few moments later, the masks on the walls between the mirrors start reflecting the light as well, and I strongly feel a presence very close to me. It’s not rocket science—the Prince of Midnight is in here.

And so is Isolde, something screams in the back of my mind. I start walking, the mirrors rippling as I pass them by, chills running down my spine. I’m sharply aware I’m in the prince’s cellar, and this time he surely wants to harm me. Anxiety makes my hands sweat. This is a matter of life and death.

One mirror draws my attention as I walk by it. It’s rippling wildly, as if it wants to tell me something. I turn to it, trying to make sense of its erratic movement. Soon the mirror’s liquid glass turns into veils undulating in the wind; beyond them, I see Lazarus tied to an iron chair with medieval chains that are so heavy he can’t move an inch, even though it’s clear he’s struggling. His entire frame quivers.

“Lazarus,” I scream, reaching out to him, but the mirror’s folds turn into moving blades, ready to cut me.

“How touching,” Radek’s velvety voice ripples behind me. “Juliet risking everything to save her Romeo.”

I stiffen. I can feel him approach me from behind, and my heart beats faster with expectation.

“When did you...?” I whisper.

“Get him? Desperate to save Isolde, you barely noticed when the tunnel sucked him away from you.”

“Where is Isolde?” I can feel him walking behind me, my heart beating like crazy, but I don’t take my eyes away from Lazarus through the moving knife-like glass. “What have you done to her?”

“Nothing she didn’t enjoy.” I can sense his grin. Anger surges in my chest, and I turn swiftly, not caring if I’ll face the monster and get myself killed. But he flashes away from my eyes, letting me feel him once again behind me. I turn as quickly as I can again, but I’m facing the mirror, Radek once again having flashed away before I could lay eyes on him.

“Are you in the mood for children’s games?” I blurt through my teeth.

“Keeping you alive isn’t a children’s game,” he says in a serious tone.

I laugh bitterly. I recognize it as the laughter of a jealous woman. If Radek and I would be living a normal life, in the normal world on the surface of this magic underground where he blends dimensions with each other like a twisted mage, I would be throwing pans and plates at him.

“So worried about my well-being all of a sudden. You think you’re doing me any good by sleeping with my sister?” The reproof flies out of my mouth like poison. I cry out in frustration, balling my hands, stopping in place, facing the mirror.

“I could scratch you right now,” I let out. Jealousy is tearing at every organ inside me. “How could you do this to me? My own sister!”

“You left me,” he hisses in my ear, his breath touching the side of my face, the warmth of his body close behind me.

“You ran away with Lazarus Raica,” he spits, hatred in the way he speaks Lazarus’ name. The movement of the mirror blades in front of me slows down enough for me to get a more or less clear image of him struggling in that chair.

“I didn’t run away with him. He was out there when I emerged into the courtyard, and I asked for his help.”

“Asked for his help,” Radek hisses, his strong hands clamping my shoulders from behind. “Why did you need help, Juliet? You know I would never have taken you against your will. You knew I had feelings for you, you could have persuaded me to let you go, if that was what you wanted. Why go behind my back, why hurt me like that?”

Hurt him? Guilt and pain shoot from my stomach to my feet, even though I know I can’t tell him the truth—that I know about those women; that I know about the monstrous things he did to them, and that I’d hate myself if I’d continue living with him. But I need to convince him that I didn’t leave him for another man.

I look to the side, determined to turn slowly, but when I see the hand on my shoulder the intention catches in my throat.

It looks like corals have grown on it. It’s thick, with burls and large pores, claws instead of fingernails.  A lump forms in my throat, preventing me from screaming.

“Admit it,” Radek says. “You asked for his help because you’d been thinking of him the entire time. The more you got to know the monster hiding behind my daytime self, the more attracted you felt to the cute student who could cuddle naked with you at night like a normal man.”

“Even if that were true,” I cry, realizing he can’t be reasoned with if I keep trying to explain what happened with Lazarus. “You slept with my sister! Nothing can justify that, that’s such a low blow.”

“Low blow,” he repeats, and I can feel his mocking grin.  The liquid mirror in front of me begins moving again, and instead of Lazarus struggling with his chains, I see my sister’s back. Her long blond hair cascades in waves to her waist, her round butt moving as she arranges something in front of her. I soon realize she’s at work, doing night shift, as usual.

“She’s not even here,” I breathe, relief coursing from my head to my feet, making me weak all over. “But I heard her, I heard her calling my name, and moaning as if she was....” My words trail off.

“You heard your worst fears, Juliet.”

“My worst fears? But how—?”

“It was an induced psychological effect, the ‘call of the siren.’ I influenced your mind to perceive what it feared most to get you following my energy.” He pauses. “And your worst fear was that I would be sleeping with your sister.”

Guilt and shame wash over me, my cheeks burning. Now, face to face with the truth, I realize that I feared for her life less than I feared she might take Radek’s heart away from me. Despite knowing the terrible things Radek did to women after using them, what I cared about most was for him not to sleep with another woman but me. That thought makes me feel so sick that I prefer not to dwell on it.

“Then Lazarus,” I whisper. “He’s not in chains either?”

Radek laughs behind me, the laugh of a bitter, vengeful creature. The blades return to the mirror, moving wildly, the mirror once again showing Lazarus.

“Let me show you just how real his chains are,” Radek says.

As if on cue, the blades start rippling backwards, like a retreating wrapping of aluminum foil. In a few moments the whole mirror retreats and disintegrates behind Lazarus, leaving him in front of us, in his iron chair and his iron chains. The mirror pieces itself back together behind him.

I stare with my mouth open. Lazarus has a gag, he can’t speak, but he makes desperate sounds, as if he’s screaming at me to run away. His milky blue eyes are wide, reddened, scared, but not for himself. I can see clearly he’s much more worried about me.

“Take a good look at your Romeo, Juliet,” Radek hisses in my ear from behind, his monster hands still on my shoulders. “In only a few moments I’ll give him pain right in front of you, make him suffer just like I have suffered all these nights.”

“All these nights?” I glance behind me. He puts a finger on the side of my chin, stopping me before I can catch a glimpse of his face.

“I came to see you every night.” Pain infiltrates his voice as he talks. “The first few nights he slept like a dog in a corner of the room, watching over you. At first, I even started to believe in innocence again. I started to believe that there is more than just decadence and lust and betrayal in this world. I thought that you were maybe indeed just friends, and I even considered waking you up, telling you how I—” He pauses, choosing his words, but the hurt in his tone is growing. “How I felt about you. Telling you that neither of you needed to fear me, that we were all good.

“I was an idiot. Because then—” Spite and hatred creep back into his words. “This fucking dog—” As he says that, the chains begin coiling tighter around Lazarus like living snakes, making his blood rush to his head, reddening his face.

“Please stop,” I call but, even though the chains stop moving, they don’t loosen, keeping Lazarus tightly squeezed.

“This fucking dog,” Radek repeats, letting the words fill his mouth, “moved next to you in bed, stroking your face and playing with your hair while you slept as if you were a shrine he worshipped. Luckily—for him—he never tried to kiss you, because I would have splintered the window and leapt inside, then I would have torn his head from his shoulders with my bare hands.”

Chills creep up my spine at the danger in his dark voice. His hands run up and down my arms, pressed, possessive, and I love it. My eyelids flutter with pleasure at the possessive feel in his voice and his touch, and I crave more of it. But I struggle to regain control over my mind, and an idea hits me—if I can heal Radek of the midnight monster, then he’ll probably lose his powers, and that will give me a chance to free Lazarus. It sounds crazy even spoken only in my head, but it’s worth a shot.

I raise my hand and place it over Radek’s as it strokes its way to the level of my elbow. I thought that my own skin would crease at the feel of the nodules and ripples of his flesh, that I would be disgusted, repulsed. Deep down, I actually hoped I would, because it’s the sensible thing to feel, any normal woman would feel that way. This moment though I realize, beyond a doubt, that I am NOT a normal woman, and never will be again, not since I’ve known Radek’s dark love.

I’m in love with this tormented prince, with the whole package, I even love the monster I’m about to banish. Remembering what I read about the ritual that has been used on him to transform him into what he is today, my heart fills with compassion and a love that runs deep in my veins.

I close my eyes, letting the emotion fill my heart until it spills over and transfers to Radek through my palm. Under my touch, the coral-like nodules and pores on the monster’s hand retreat into the smooth hand of Prince Radek. I half expect him to try and pull his hand away, but he doesn’t, allowing the healing to spread up his arm to the rest of his body. As this happens, he lets out low moans of satisfaction. I can sense my power—my love—burn away the monster’s skin, like fire burning away paper.

I can also feel when the transformation is complete, and the prince is standing behind me in all his beauty. I breathe out, feeling spent, my head swimming. Remembering Lazarus, I open my eyes to look at him.

He can’t see Radek’s face from where he’s sitting, of course, otherwise he would have seen his face earlier, and he would have been infected with the curse. But he can see his hands, and he can definitely feel the magic, because his eyes are wide in awe, and his body still, as if he’s forgotten all about the chains.

Moments of silence follow, with only the sound of something sparkling in the room. Now what? How do I know if Radek has lost his powers along with the midnight monster? The thought makes me shudder. I immediately become aware of his brother’s danger. Dracula has been waiting for a chance to rise above his brother for years, this could mean destruction.

But maybe we can keep the secret to ourselves. I open my mouth to say something, but right this second Radek’s smooth, warm palm winds itself like a caress around my throat, his other hand around my arm, bringing and keeping me close to his chest, my back to him.

“My sweet Juliet,” he whispers in my ear, the unmistakable luring, velvety voice of my dark, beautiful prince. “What did you think? That, by stripping me of the monster, you could save your Romeo? No, my sweet. He’s in that chair already, the chains wrapped around him, and that’s where he’s going to stay.”

I realize that Radek’s jealousy hasn’t gone anywhere, and that he’s just as dangerous for Lazarus right this moment than he was before. I panic.

“He’s not my Romeo. Radek, Lazarus and I never had anything—”

“Oh, I know you never had anything. Otherwise he’d be dead already. But I also know that he wanted it, and I think you wanted him, too, but...” He ponders. We are connected now, through my magic, I can feel his own worst fear surfacing, blinding him to the truth. “I think you wanted it as well, only that you had enough sense to wait until you’re out of this town. You decided to wait until you’re very, very far away from me.”

“Radek, this is only your imagination. Your own fears,” I manage, careful with both my words and my tone, keeping it soft. I feel the frustration and jealousy burning inside of Radek, and he can still be dangerous to Lazarus.

“Really? Hmmm.” The hand he kept on my throat wonders down to my chest, and slowly cups my breast. He hisses with pleasure, while my skin pebbles under my flimsy vampiress dress, a gothic black lace thing that barely covers me from chest to knees, flowing and easily removed, just the way he likes them. I’ve lost my cloak on the way here, because it was heavy and slowed me down.

“How I missed this,” he says, his breath tingling the skin on the side of my neck, his hand savoring my breast. I begin turning mellow in his arms, leaning back against him. Clouds darken my mind, and I begin to forget everything around me until Lazarus makes a tormented sound.  My eyes snap open, and I try to rip myself away from Radek, rip myself from his mesmerizing power, but he pulls me right back against his body.

“If you really don’t care about him as a lover,” he says darkly in my ear, “then you won’t mind us giving in to our passion right in front of him.”

My heart leaps. “Radek, you can’t possibly expect me to deliver a live porn show.”

But as soon as I finish my sentence, he covers my eyes with one hand, the other guiding my head to the side until our lips meet. The moment his hot, carnal mouth covers mine, blood shoots to my core. By God, a part of me loves him like a mother loves her child, no matter his terrible deeds, while the other part craves him with the darkest lust.

Without thinking it, I turn towards him, facing him, my hands running up his body in leather until I feel both sides of his jaw in my palms, his smooth, perfect skin over the strong jawline. The face of a youthful warrior, a mouthwatering specimen of a male.

“We’ve been apart for so long,” he whispers against my mouth, his sweet breath misting my lips. “Have you missed me, too?”

His words tug the truth out of me, just like they did the first night we spent together.

“Every night I fell asleep lying on my stomach, holding the pillow,” I whisper, my eyes closed under his hand, all my other senses perceiving him all the stronger—the tantalizing heat of his body, the fresh scent of his flesh, the rosy scent of his lips, so close to mine. Those lips pull me in like a magnet, and I can’t stop myself rising on the tips of my toes and planting slow, loving pecks on them as I say the next words.

“I imagined the pillow was your chest, even though your chest is hard, and usually you wore leather. Sometimes I’d put my forearms under my temple, trying to remember that hard feel. The pillow was the warmth. I’d made a pact with myself, a pact that I’d train my fantasy to come as close to the reality as possible, that I’ll keep fantasizing about you my entire life. I swore to myself I’d never be with another man, because no other man could ever come close to what I lived with you.”

My lips begin tracing his jawline, and I can’t begin to describe the satisfaction I feel when I hear his slow, deep breathing. He’s savoring my words and my kisses as if they put balm on all his wounds. I can feel his desire for me grow, one hand still on my eyes, the other tracing my back, then pressing me to him, pressing my breasts against his chest.

“Then why did you run away from me?” he says, his voice low, a caress to my senses. I take a deep breath, trying to control the desire in my core. By God, I’m starting to cream down there. What I really want to do is hold his face between my hands and push my tongue inside his mouth, but he’s asked a question, and the truth is compelled out of me.

“You are an evil man, Radek. I had to get out, warn the world about you and the terrible things you do to people. Those women you keep down in the dungeon, what sex with you has done to them—”

“What women? What dungeon?”

The spell breaks as if thunder tears through it. Radek’s hand falls down from my face, my eyes open wide, but all I get is a glimpse of his blue irises before he flaps his cape like a vulture’s wings, and pulls it in front of his face.

I don’t know what to say. I just look at his eyes, blabbering. Something prickles up my spine, something I imagine is the beginning of the midnight monster’s curse, but I’m not sure. All I can see of Radek’s face is his striking eyes.

“Juliet?” he presses.

I look around, confused and then panicky, realizing I just betrayed Victoria. “So even if the midnight monster’s looks are gone, his power remains,” I say. “I’ve been under your spell right now just like the entire time we spent together at the castle.”

Radek’s eyes elongate to the sides like those of a cat, as if he’s grinning bitterly behind the cape. “So you healed me of the monster because you hoped that would weaken me.”

I look straight into his eyes, fearless. “You know your power compels the truth out of me. You know for a fact everything I said is true, and yet you doubt. Listen.” I take a determined step closer to him, my chin up as I look straight into his eyes, channeling through them all the love I feel inside. I keep my voice soft, appeasing. “I know what happened during that ritual, down in the Hall of Ceremonies, where they turned you and Vlad into what you are today. I know that is the reason why you can’t trust anybody, especially people who say they love you—because your own father said he loved you, and then he’s done all those terrible things to you during the ritual.”

Something flickers dangerously in his eyes, but he doesn’t interrupt me. Lazarus struggles in his chair with his chains, making warning sounds. I know I’m treading on thin ice, but there’s no other way I can do this, saving Victoria in the process as well.

“I know they had you eat sick flesh.” My voice goes lower, and more careful, but my eyes keep on his, blinking softly. “They had you eat the flesh of men who’d been infected with the plague, the Black Death. Then they had Vlad drink your blood. And the head of this entire operation was your own father.”

His whole frame is dangerously spanned to attack, his eyes unblinking and so intense that I think lightning cracks through his irises.

Lazarus struggles wildly in his chair, his screams muffled behind his gag, and the pressure I feel is more than I can bear. I feel compelled to take one step back, afraid of this prince laden with deadly energy so close to me. But when he speaks, his voice is clear and powerful, yet not menacing.

“My father and those other bastards, members of the Order,” he says, “they were convinced the Black Death could determine powerful modifications inside the human body, if the body was strong enough. If it was the body of a born true warrior.” He nods, as if to himself. “They were right. The Black Death killed millions, wiped out three quarters of the population, but there have been those who survived—and became stronger. What they did with us during the ritual was the concept of an old medieval physician who’d studied in Israel and knew certain secrets. But I don’t think the old man actually expected the Frankensteins Vlad and I became.”

I let the information go through my head, but it’s so hard to digest. I can’t help picturing Radek as a small boy, held in place on his knees on a slab of granite in the underground by two masked adults, forced to bite into the festering bubonic blister of a corpse. I shudder, but then Radek speaks again, and fear sends ice to my limbs.

“But don’t think you have me fooled, Juliet. What women? What dungeon? What the hell were you talking about?”

I raise my eyebrows in surprise. “So this is why you were angry?”

“I told you a while ago. I’m old. I can handle trauma, and I’m well over PTSD. Now tell me.”

I swallow hard, looking at him, my wheels turning like crazy inside my head, but not really producing an idea.

“I can’t tell you,” I manage. “Please, don’t make me.”

“Juliet.” For the first time, I can see an ancient man behind his eyes, and not some head-turning beautiful prince in his twenties. “Please, treat this like a grown up. I don’t know who you feel you’re betraying, but look at it this way: You say that women are suffering somewhere in a dungeon. I assure you, I did not put them there. And, if I didn’t, someone else did. Juliet, it’s up to you to save those women, but you have to talk to me now.”

But I still can’t. The lump in my throat just won’t go down.

“Forgive me,” Radek says when I fail to talk. “I’d normally give you time with this, but time is something we’re really short of right now.”

He oozes power, which clouds my head again, my lids falling heavy, and my body swaying a little. He asks the question again, and the answer is squeezed out of me like a freaking belch.

“Victoria. A dungeon deep in the mountain, I think it’s the last one at the end of a tunnel.”

That’s everything Radek needs. His power on me subsides, and I can stand straight again, keeping my eyes open. He turns away from me and tears a piece of his cape, tying the ends of it behind his head. When he faces me again I see it’s like the mask of a ninja. I realize....

“Why aren’t you wearing your mask?”

“Because I was planning on killing your lover right in front of your eyes,” he replies, his voice slightly muffled behind the mask, and charged with the remains of bad feelings. “Using my face.”

I glance to my side, at the monk in a glass casing, with the vampire mask on his face.

“And why aren’t you taking it now?”

Radek takes a moment to look at it as well. “Because that mask was for the monster. The monster is gone.” He looks at me, a trace of gratefulness in his focused eyes. “Hopefully forever.”

He drops the cape on the floor and steps away from me, squaring his shoulders and spreading his arms, looking majestic as he leans his head back. A strange clinking sound begins around the room, at first faintly, then growing louder as the mirrors approach in a circle around us, as if summoned by a mage.

The chains around Lazarus drop to the floor with a heavy clanking sound, and the chair pushes him out of it. Lazarus staggers onto his feet, but can’t hold his own weight, and falls.

He’s weakened by the chains and the struggle, the terror and the worry for me, he doesn’t have the strength to carry himself. I hurry over and to help him up.

“Radek,” I say pleadingly.

Radek measures Lazarus up and down with disgust, but also a little pity. “If you didn’t run away from me because of him, and with him, I’ll leave him alone.”

“I didn’t. Victoria, when we left the tunnel, we emerged into the courtyard, and Lazarus was there. Victoria asked him to take me away and hide me.”

Radek’s eyes narrow over the ninja mask. “She planned this all along,” he says, then holds out an arm, inviting us to join him. “Come on.”

I help Lazarus wobble over, and the moment Radek touches his shoulder a tunnel of lights opens from one of the mirrors like a huge funnel. The tunnel rushes by us like a high-speed train, only that, despite the fact that I feel the movement and the chill, this is a void, a vacuum, there’s no sharp air to mess my hair or my dress. The funnel spits us out inside a dungeon, and I recognize the place where Victoria has taken me over a month ago. There are a few torches lining the walls, but the tunnel gapes deep and dark in front of us.

“This part of the dungeon connects the castle to the mountain,” Radek explains. Then, to my great surprise, he slides an arm around Lazarus’ middle, helping him.

“What are you doing?” I whisper in awe, still supporting Lazarus on the other side.

“You can let go of him now. I’ll carry him.”

“What?”

Radek’s beautiful blue eyes rest on mine as if feasting on the sight of me for a moment.

“I certainly won’t lead the way like a jackass while you carry him. And, after all, it’s my fault he’s in this state.”

Lazarus tries to say something, but we realize he still has his gag. Radek removes it, and Lazarus spits on the floor twice, screwing his face as if he’s trying to get rid of an unpleasant taste. Then he looks at Radek with daggers in his eyes.

“Don’t think you’re winning me over, beast,” he says, his voice rough. “If I could, I’d punch you in the face right now.”

“You can have a fucking duel, if you want, but at the moment we have more pressing things to do.” Radek hoists Lazarus from his waist, Lazarus’ arm going around Radek’s strong shoulders. Radek balances him and moves at a normal pace even with Lazarus hanging on him, as if he’s barely carrying more than a backpack, and picks a torch from the wall with his free hand.

He doesn’t need me to show him the way, he seems to know exactly where he’s going, but by his frown and focused stare I know he’s curious.

“You never come down here?” I say, my voice bouncing off the wet cave’s walls even though I keep it low, afraid I might awaken some dormant creature if I talk too loudly. The chill permeates my flesh directly to my bones, making me shiver. “I mean, how could she keep this from you?” I say in a quivering voice.

“Like I said, this is where the castle underground joins the mountain maze of caves.” He glances at me over Lazarus’s frame that hangs on him. “The last dungeons, the ones fully in the darkness, are Vlad’s territory. I never go into his territory, and he never comes into mine.”

I nod, remembering the truce between them. Victoria must have brought the women here knowing Radek would never explore this part of the cave tunnels because of his brother.

As we advance into darkness, even the torch’s light becoming feeble, anxiety sends cold sweat down my back. Radek is here, I keep telling myself, but I need the warmth of his protective body by my side or behind me in order to feel safe. With Lazarus between us, I feel naked and vulnerable. I manage to keep a grip on my breathing until the sound of slimy movement like snakes coiling onto each other makes me shudder hard, my skin creasing, the sensation that roaches climb up my legs making me scratch myself like a lunatic. I lag a little behind.

Radek stops, turning to me with Lazarus hanging on him, his now bright blue eyes a source of light additional to the torch. 

“Are you all right?”

“We’re close,” I manage. “I can hear them.”

Radek looks in front of him again. “Yes, me too.”

I keep behind him and Lazarus as we approach the dungeon where the women dwell. Lazarus begins to straighten up as well, coming to walk on his own feet as he focuses on what he’s seeing in front of him. Right in front of the women’s cell both men stand by each other, looking inside, Lazarus obviously having forgotten his weakness.

“What in the world,” he whispers with what I imagine is an open mouth, but I can’t get myself to look inside. I stay behind Radek, chewing on my fingernails, wanting to steal a peek by him, but not daring to.

“Victoria,” he says, anger in his voice. He turns to me, and his luminous eyes bore straight into mine. He grips my shoulders.

“Listen to me carefully, Juliet. I. Did. Not. Do. This. I had affairs with these women, yes, but I sent them back to the surface world with houses, money, great jobs, you name it. The only thing I left inside of their minds was a hypnotically induced silence keeper, ensuring they would never talk about what they lived here. About anything they knew about me. But, Juliet, I set them free, I swear.”

“You had affairs with all of them?” I find it in myself to peek by him, trying to get a number out of the erratic group of ghost-like women dressed in rags. I can’t bear to look for long. “They must be over a dozen.” Jealousy eats at my heart like a manic rat.

“Juliet, I’m a six hundred year old monster. There have been women before you. But none of them ever meant to me what you do. You cut my heart open and slipped inside of it.” His strong hands squeeze my arms, bringing me closer. “I don’t know if this is love, Juliet, because it’s possessive, and dangerous. I didn’t imprison these women, but I would imprison you. It’s pretty much what I’ve done all this time. But I never—”

“What you did to Juliet was sick,” Lazarus intervenes, looking over his shoulder at us, his face full of animosity. “You drugged her with your powers, kept her confined. She hadn’t been out to get fresh air in such a long time that she looked like a corpse when I found her. She was almost one of these women.” He moves his attention to me. “Juliet, be reasonable. Use your head. You can’t be with him, it’ll destroy you.”

“I guess I’m gonna have to rip your head off after all,” Radek hisses, and spans to attack Lazarus.