Juliet Immortal

she okay?” someone asks.
    “She’s been shot?” The girl’s voice shatters in the cold air. “He shot her?”
    “No, she’s been
stabbed
. In the stomach. Call Cottage Hospital and tell them we’ll be there in five minutes.” He throws the words over his shoulder, more focused on getting me to the Corolla than stopping to explain things to a bunch of traumatized kids.
    Still, his instructions penetrate the fog for someone.
    “Five minutes. Got it.” It takes me a moment, but I recognize the voice. Ben—in his attempt to get me the care I need as fast as possible—has made a horrible mistake.
    I look over his shoulder, meeting the reptilian gaze of the Mercenary inhabiting Jason Kim’s body. Our eyes lock for a moment and then the man I once knew as Friar Lawrence is gone, moving off into the night. Ben leans down, guiding me into the backseat of the car. I turn to him, a warning on my lips, but the sky presses even closer, smothering the words I would speak. I try to lift my hand, to make some sign that he has to watch out, but my hands are too cold, too heavy.
    Freezing. Heavy. Dying.
    And Ben doesn’t know to watch out for Jason, doesn’t know about the monsters.
    I should have told him the truth, no matter how crazy itwould have sounded. At least then I … At least then … Maybe he would have …
    Dimly, I’m aware of Ben screaming for me to be tough, to fight back. And then the car is running and we’re moving fast. Faster. Faster. The world fades out, then back in again, consciousness slipping through my fingers, life slipping from my—
    Something slams into the side of the car and we’re suddenly off the road, spinning in a circle, the smell of wet grass and exhaust filling the car. Ben cries out as we stop turning and begin sliding—down, down, down—careening down a hill so steep I can feel the car wheels rising off the ground, tempted to follow gravity’s urging and go tumbling. Ben screams again. I would too, but there’s nothing left in my mouth. No words, no screams, no breath. Ariel is dying. I’m dying. Ben will be all alone, without anyone to protect him.
    The car has barely slid to a stop when faces appear at the window. Two of them—one a pale, evil moon rising in the passenger’s window, the other a sad, miserable mess with part of his head missing. Romeo’s curls are gone on one side, blown away, revealing skin and bone and slick, smooth pink that I don’t want to think about. He’s been shot. By himself or by Jason—I suppose it doesn’t matter which.
    What matters is that Romeo is here now, and he’s grabbing Ben’s door, pulling him out of the car.
    “No,” I whisper, finding the strength to lift my hand and reach for him, though it does neither of us any good. I see Romeo’s fist draw back and hear the sick thud of bone hitting flesh and know the end is near.
    Jason opens the door at my feet and crawls into the backseat, leaning over me, wearing the same evil smile he wore when he was the friar, when he watched me bleed on the floorof the tomb. I want to claw the smug, foul sneer from his face, want to drive my thumbs into his eyes and steal his victory away. I don’t want him to watch me die, to watch Romeo beat Ben to death, but I don’t have the strength to turn my head away, let alone do any damage. Even when he reaches for the handle of the knife and jerks it from my stomach, triggering a fresh wave of agony that bubbles inside me, I can’t do more than twitch reflexively before lying still once more.
    “There, there.” Jason’s hands push my hair from my face, gentle in the way of a spider wrapping a fly in silk. There is no comfort in his hands, only terror, torture. If it weren’t for Ben, I would be grateful for the cold closing in all around me. Better to drift off to the forever sleep than go out screaming for mercy.
    “I have a present for you, Juliet,” he says, voice soft, but loud enough to be heard over the sounds of the beating outside. Romeo’s fists continue to fly. I can hear them hitting their target, hear the groans and sharp cries as Ben learns what supernatural strength can do. I feel every sound slam inside me. Ben’s pain is worse than my own. Far worse. I would rather suffer than hear him suffer, this boy I love, this good soul who will never get the chance to be a man. “I think it’s time you experience dark magic firsthand.”
    His hands turn to stone around my neck, fingers digging into my skin, making me