Juliet Immortal

love that lasts forever.
    But I learned my lesson. For me, only vengeance is eternal.
    The need to punish
his
betrayal keeps me fighting. I am on the side of good, working to prevent the Mercenaries of the Apocalypse from destroying what beauty and goodness remains in humankind. Of all the duties an Ambassador can have, protecting soul mates and preserving the future of romantic love is one of the most well-respected, and that’s … nice. But ruining
his
existence, knowing he’ll go back to the people who rule him without a soul to show for his work, is better. Much, much better.
    It helps banish pain to the edge of my awareness as I set about finding a way out of the car. Unfortunately, it won’t be an easy escape. The front end is smashed, the door on the passenger’s side can’t be opened, and the electric buttons that lower the windows make a sick buzzing sound when I tug them with my fingers.
    Buttons. They’re similar to the ones I used in my last body in … 1998? 1999? The years blur together, but still, the buttons and the relatively new look of the car’s interior make me wonder what time I’m in. I close my eyes, pawing through Ariel’s memories.
    Less than fifteen years have passed since my last shift. Troubling …
    I rarely come back to the earth more than once every
fifty
years. Despite the love songs humankind churns out like butter, true lovers don’t come together every day. As the Mercenaries ply their trade—destroying hope, crushing compassion, inciting war and violence—soul-mated pairs are becoming an endangered species.
    Real love has little to do with falling. It’s a climb up the rocky face of a mountain, hard work, and most people are too selfish or scared to bother. Very few reach the critical point in their relationship that summons the attention of the light and the dark, that place where they will make a commitment to love no matter what obstacles—or temptations—appear in their path.
    And there are others like Romeo and me, two halves of the same whole drafted to opposing sides. The others have their turns in the rotation, I suppose, though I’ve never met any on earth, or in the places outside of time. I’m not aware of other souls in the mist. There is only the endless gray and wisps of consciousness I can’t quite hold on to.
    Romeo, however, is allowed to remain on earth, dwelling in the bodies of the dead. Nurse insists the process is unpleasant, but at least he has
some
version of a life.
    I am always alone, pretending to be someone else or lost in a vast emptiness. I miss life. I miss conversation and laughter and shared joy and hurt. I miss dancing and painting. I miss waking up to a day with no evil in it—at least, none that I can see. Most of all, I miss my innocence, my faith that those seeking happiness will find it. I make a decent show of being good, but in reality I’m too bitter to be an admirable Ambassador, too young to feel so hopeless.
    I’ve seen centuries pass, but I died when I was fourteen and have spent less than twenty conscious years on earth.
He
, on the other hand, continues to live and learn, to stave off madness with open ears and long looks into human eyes. He has seven hundred years of skill and experience, and it helps him get closer to destroying me every single time.
    Maybe this time. There’s something … 
off
about this shift.It isn’t just that it’s come too soon. It’s … something else … something that makes the white-blond hairs on my left arm stand on end.
    “Unhh … damn …” Dylan’s eyes flutter open.
    Even in the moonlight shining through the ceiling they look dark, peculiar. There’s something strange about this boy, something warped inside him. I’m not surprised that he played a cruel trick on Ariel, but I’m curious to see what he’ll do next. How will he deal with the fact that she nearly killed them both?
    “Ariel?” he asks, his voice slurred. “Are you okay?”
    “Ye—yes, I think so.” Maybe he doesn’t remember how the car crashed? If so, I won’t be helping him with his recall. I keep my expression carefully blank. “Are you okay?”
    “I think I’m fine. I … think I might be …” His words fade as he leans closer. He’s staring at me. I can feel it, though his chin is tipped down, creating hollows the light through the roof can’t touch.
    The roof! I look up, and a sigh of relief escapes my lips. It’s made of glass! Thank goodness. Getting out of this