Night Time: Two Novels Page 23

  I stood by the silent, virtuous Lady, just on her left shoulder. Balancing my feet on such a great statue was always tricky. I could taste her overwhelming wet, coppery scent in my nose and mouth. The aroma was reminiscent of fresh blood, not altogether unpleasant.

  I looked up into the dark cold night. It was unusual to see stars over our city, but the night was crisp with them, twinkling sparks on a black velvet nightscape, such a clear night that diamond rays from starlight illuminated the night sky like Jacob’s ladders extending from deep sky to tall buildings. It was a radiant night.

  We were fortunate to have most of our land bought out for re-gentrification by a billion-dollar Prince. Prince Escalus. His very surname as a visionary developer was a legend in his own time. Not only was he rich, he was powerful, and masterful at rejuvenating entire cities. His approach into developing cities and remaking them was that his philosophy was simple: Keep the peace.

  There was no place that needed peace more in this time than New York City. More specifically…Manhattan.

  As I looked out from my 300-foot-high perch in the night shadow of the bosom of the lady, I marveled at the beauty of my Verona. My city was like a beautiful woman to me and my city had two competing lovers and a divided heart. I was reminded of which immortal species ruled these parts. Vampires and werewolves were as legendary and infamous in these parts as celebrities. In fact, we even had our own media network.

  Verona was run, in part, by the two immortal families: the Capulets and the Montagues. They couldn’t have been more different in their culture and in their immortal forms. Montagues were from the wrong side of the tracks: a ruthless, cutthroat band of scorned misfits who succeeded anyway, with all the odds against them. They were crass and abrupt, and they always needed a shave, a bath, and a good haircut. But that came with the territory. The Montagues were cursed by a comedy of errors but brazenly got to their feet, every time.

  Now the Capulets, they were cultured and liked the finer things in life: big houses, expensive cars, and especially, flaunting it to the Montagues.

  As different as the two sides were in culture, they stood even further apart in their unlike immortality. The Capulets had chosen to live their remaining years here in Verona—it could be a million years, as they were long-lived as vampires. It fit their smug elitist attitudes to be so long in the tooth and aggravated the Montagues that there was no way to get rid of them.

  The Montagues lived their days as werewolves: meat-eating, ass-kicking, moon-howling werewolves who lived day by day, close to the earth, as close to raw passion as creatures could ever get. Montagues were warm-blooded and therefore, had passion soaring through their veins. The Capulets had to take their blood from others, like the leeches on society that they were, by virtue of their curse. Most of them, save her, were passionless, elitist, and cold. Only she was different. I swore inside of me that I had never laid eyes on a wonder of the world more captivating than she.

  The problem was twofold. Immortality, dominance, and bloodlines separated Verona into two sides, nearly split right down the middle at Times Square. There were two immortal families in my city, bloodthirsty rivals who gave each other no quarter, and none was asked. They mostly kept to their own turf, and to their own kind. The two families were split along Times Square.

  To the north of Times Square in the Upper East Side, the Capulets had bought out mansions that were turned into apartment buildings…that were now turned back into mansions. The family owned just about every building and had turned the section of the city into a place that turned up their noses at the Hamptons.

  To the south of Times Square, and all the way down to the Financial District, was where the werewolves roamed. They were definitely not as rich as the Capulets, but they lived better than most folks. If werewolves were roaming, then one would likely see a Montague in their midst. Nearly all Montague men had chosen to live their days as werewolves. Montague families were spread out pretty evenly among Chelsea, and the East and West Villages. One could even find families in SoHo and Chinatown.

  Until now, there had only been small skirmishes between the two dissonant factions, but my extraordinary senses of premonition and danger detected that all hell was about to break loose in a populous that was deep in celebration about the rebirth of art, culture, education, and creativity. A resurgence of passion for the city swept like a fiery new religion into the corners of every borough. It was as if people were crying out for a deeper purpose. I knew I was.

  Things in this part of the world had been quite different for some time. In reality, the entire world was different. A hundred years ago, there had been a technology revolution that spurred the inevitable. We’d touched the moon and the planets with our humanity and our machines shot into outer space, and could go no further without bankrupting every country. A realization set in that we now needed to get in touch with our mortality, our inner space.

  It was time for the world to turn on its fulcrum. I felt it. Time for the immortals to take their rightful place as the world’s muscle and minds. Religion and politics tried to prevent it from happening, but eventually, immortality reigned over mortality. Now, just two immortal factions stood at the helm of society, glaring at each other from opposite corners of the city.

  In the madness, I had been given a gift from the gods. I had been given visions of a wondrous place. A place of peace, of hope and love. I had only seen it in my dreams, but on this night, I felt that my special place was near, as if I could almost touch it with my hands. Of late, something had come over me and it was only intensifying. I looked up at the stars and the full moon that pierced my mind’s eye with a pull that I knew well. I howled into the night sky. I howled from my deep place, where I had only seemed to been able to howl from as of late. I had been told that my howl was unique in that it had both the sounds of music playing and the reverence of a man crying out in prayer. It was a howl that had reduced some to tears when they heard it, such was its unique vibration, timbre, tone, and range. It was a yodel from across the Alps, a chorus of angels with one harmonized chord. My howl is my prayer and my song of all that I was, all that I am, and all that I shall be. Inside of me roiled a yearning for something more, hungering for something more. I howled in agony and ecstasy until tears dripped from my face and wet my body like scorching rain.

  When I was finished, I looked over my city of Verona and cried out so loud that my throat roared, “My name is Romeo Montague and I am a Werewolf!”

  Also available:

  WINNING SARAH’S HEART

  A Young Adult Series

  by H.T. Night

  (read on for a sample)

  Chapter One

  It was the last day of summer and I was going into the sixth grade. I woke up feeling pretty impatient, as I always did on the day the school posted the classroom lists. Each year, the day before Wenchester Elementary School began, the school posted a list for each classroom so that the students could see which class they would be in during the year.

  For some reason this had always been a huge event in my life. I anticipated it the way little children anticipate Christmas morning.

  This year would be a tad different. I had finally made it. I was at the top. I was a sixth grader!

  At Wenchester, there were two sixth-grade classrooms. The teachers were Mr. O’Neil and Mrs. Phyllis. Mr. O’Neil was tall, slender, and non-threatening in his appearance. He had a reputation of being real strict. Mrs. Phyllis, on the other hand, was simply young and beautiful. She had blonde hair and blue eyes that hid behind red glasses that made her look like a secretary. So, given the two choices for having a teacher, I thought it was fair to say I would rather be in Mrs. Phyllis’s class.

  “Wake up!” screeched a female voice outside my room.

  “You actually thought I might be asleep?” I yelled back.

  “Mom wants us to walk to the store and get lunch.” With that, she threw open the door. It was my sister, Carrie. Everyone said we looked alike. We would b
oth argue to our deathbeds that we didn’t. She was a year younger than I was. The sad part about it was we were in the same grade. I was held back a year by my mother. She said it was for emotional reasons. If you ask me, I thought my mother wished she had given birth to twins. She figured that even though we didn’t come out at the same time, she would make us go to school at the same time.

  I used to live in Arizona with my mother and father. My parents divorced when I was three years old. My dad moved to Texas with his girlfriend a year later. I would only speak to him about four times a year. I saw him once at Christmas time when I was seven years old. We didn’t have much of a father-son relationship. I was supposed to love him because he was my dad. It was hard to love someone you never saw, especially when that someone chose not to see you.

  My mother, sister and I live in Southern California. The three of us moved here after my mom and dad divorced. I figure I’ll probably leave California someday when I’m older, but, for now, it’s an okay place to live, I guess.

  “Blayne called, he said he’ll meet you at the basketball courts at two o’clock,” Carrie said with a smile. My sister has a crush on Blayne since we were little kids.

  “Did he mention if Timmy would be there?” I asked.

  “What am I, your personal answering service?”

  “You are when Blayne calls.”

  “I don’t like Blayne,” she protested. “You always say I like Blayne. I might have thought he was cute when I was little, but I don’t like him anymore.”

  “Whatever,” I said, pushing her out of my room.

  It was hard not to be overly excited knowing that the classroom lists were going to be posted. I wanted to have five people in my classroom. I wanted Blayne Ward and Timmy Lawson because they were my two best friends. I also hoped to have Tanya Taylor and Ali Moore because they were the two prettiest girls in the sixth grade.

  Then, there was the new girl. She moved here at the end of the year. She wasn’t in my class.

  Her name was Sarah Davis. She was the type of girl who seemed very mysterious. She didn’t say much. She would just keep to herself at recess. I always paid attention to her though. We walked home in the same direction from school.

  On the last day of school, I decided to do something that was very unlike me. That day I decided to pass my house and go to the market and get a candy bar. I was curious to see where Sarah lived. I walked behind her for about a mile. She happened to walk into Pete’s market. It was the only place to go, aside from the Laundromat.

  I walked in after her and grabbed a bag of chips and a soda. I noticed Tommy Madkins was in there with a couple of his friends playing video games. Tommy was by far the biggest bully to ever go to Wenchester Elementary School. He started to get a reputation when he was in fourth grade. It was fair to say we had a lot of jerks in the sixth grade.

  I walked up to the counter and Sarah was in front of me. All she had in her hand was a loaf of bread. She was much shorter than me and had sandy brown hair. Her eyes stood out the most. She had these big green eyes.

  I stood behind her, admiring her, when I heard, “Greer!” I hated when someone called me by my last name. I turned around to see Tommy and his clan of jerks laughing. “Is that your girlfriend?” Tommy asked, laughing even harder. This made Sarah turn around and look at us.

  “No,” I said, “I don’t even know her.” I felt stupid. It was the truth though. I had never even spoken a word to her.

  She looked at me and gave me the most innocent smile.

  I smiled back. However, whenever someone caught me off guard with a smile, I would try to smile back but it usually looked odd, like I was posing for a toothpaste commercial or something. She paid and went out the door.

  Then I heard, “Let’s go!” It came from Tommy’s direction. He and his buddies ran out the door. They ran behind the market and picked up a plastic bag full of water balloons.

  I knew this wasn’t going to be good. And what happened next was something I could have never imagined.

  I ran outside. Tommy and his friends were chasing Sarah. It was crazy. They had the water balloons and were hurling them at her.

  Sarah started to run down the street with Tommy’s clan close behind. I dropped my bag of chips and soda, and ran as hard as I ever had in my life. I was always a fast runner. I caught up to them pretty quick. I grabbed the bag of water balloons out of Tommy’s friend’s hand and threw it in the street. A semi truck driving by, hit the bag and all the water balloons exploded.

  Tommy was still ahead of me with the last water balloon. He was gaining on Sarah. I was amazed how fast she could run.

  I caught up to Tommy. At first I didn’t know what to do. This was the toughest guy in the school, but I didn’t care. I jumped on top of him and tackled him hard to the ground. We were both wearing shorts. I knew the cement hurt him as much as it hurt me. Before I knew it, I found myself in the middle of a fight. We were both throwing punches. It lasted for about a minute. Then all of sudden, a man grabbed me by my shirt and pulled me off Tommy. That man was Tommy’s father. He yelled at Tommy and told me to go home.

  I had never been in a fight before. From the looks of it, I didn’t think Tommy had either. We both got in some good hits, but neither one of us were bleeding.

  I looked over and Sarah was still standing there. She saw the whole fight. She smiled and took a couple steps towards me. My heart dropped. She looked right into my eyes. It was like she said thank you without saying a word. She then turned around and ran down the street. I just stared at her until I couldn’t see her anymore. At that moment I didn’t even realize the significance of what had happened. All I knew was I had done something I had never done before and that I was in love with a girl I never said a single word to.

  I didn’t tell anyone what happened. There would have been too much explaining to do. Nonetheless, it was quite an experience.

  I heard that Tommy moved over the summer, but I never heard anything about Sarah. I couldn’t help wondering about her.

  “Are you ready to go?” Carrie yelled from the living room.

  “I’m coming,” I answered.

  Carrie and I walked to the store. My mom left us two dollars each. It was enough to get a soda, candy bar, and a bag of chips.

  We then headed off toward Wenchester Elementary School. Carrie never got as excited as I did when it came to the classroom lists. It was partly that she didn’t like school as much as I did.

  From a distance, I could see Blayne and Timmy at the basketball courts.

  “I’m going to go wait over by the bulletin boards,” Carrie said. Then she took off running.

  I looked at my watch. It was ten minutes to two. I jogged up to the courts where Timmy and Blayne were standing.

  “What’s going on guys?” I asked.

  “Just standing around waiting,” Timmy answered.

  “You know what guys? I think it’s about that time,” Blayne said.

  I really hoped I would get Blayne and Timmy in my class. Every year since kindergarten I had had one or the other in my class. I never had them both at the same time.

  With all this wishing I had been doing, one thing I knew for sure was that I wouldn’t want my sister in my class. We had never been in the same class. I guess the school didn’t want brothers and sisters to be in the same room together. They were probably afraid we would cheat on our homework or something.

  “You guys ready to go?” Blayne asked as he made the ball into the basket.

  “Let’s do it,” I said. As we walked toward the office, we were all silent. Although we were silent, we all knew what each other were thinking.

  We reached the buildings and made a right at the cafeteria, which put us right in front of the office. There were a group of kids including my sister all huddled around the bulletin boards.

  “They’re up,” I said.

  “Yep,” Timmy replied.

  Tanya and Ali were riding up on their bikes. They parked their bikes and
walked over to the bulletin boards. They were two of the prettiest girls in school, and they knew it. They were best friends and were inseparable.

  The three of us approached the bulletin boards and were silent.

  Timmy uncharacteristically said, “I really hope all of us are in the same class.” Blayne and I smiled.

  The three of us had this unwritten agreement that one would look and not say anything until all three had seen it.

  Timmy was first. He looked at the board for about thirty seconds, and then grinned and backed away so Blayne could look. He also looked for about thirty seconds and had a real surprised look on his face.

  I could tell it wasn’t good. I knew Blayne’s expressions. That wasn’t a good one. He backed away so I could see. I walked up to the bulletin board and just closed my eyes.

  Before I could open them, I heard my sister yell. “We can’t be in the same class!”

  I quickly opened my eyes. When I did, I saw Mrs. Phyllis’ class first. I went to the boy side of the list and spotted my name, but there was no Blayne or Timmy. I quickly looked at the girl side. I saw Sarah Davis, but then I thought I saw something that had to be a misprint. I saw the name Carrie Greer, my sister. There was no Ali or Tanya. I looked over at Mr. O’Neil’s class and sure enough all four of them were in the same class.

  I couldn’t believe my eyes. I was alone. I was alone with my sister. The person I saw every day. This was horrible. But wait, Sarah Davis was in my class. I couldn’t talk about it though because my friends didn’t know I liked her. Or did I like her? All I knew was that she was the only reason that I had to smile.

  “Sorry,” Timmy said.

  “I really wanted us to be together,” Blayne followed.

  “You know, Blayne and I have never been in the same class,” Timmy continued.

  “I’m happy for the both of you,” I gave them both an obvious fake smile. “Hey, let’s get out of here. Let’s go to the ice cream shop and get a shake and kick back in the tree.” The tree was our secret hangout. It was in the back of the school. We discovered it when we were in third grade. It was always a good place to go and think or to just get away and talk.