AN: Thanks for Lauraisawkward for banging this out so quicky as my beta. :)
Just a quick note, this is a new story I'm working on. I have this thought churning in my head, so if ya'll are interested story so far, please, please let me know. This is just the Prologue, a taste if you will. :)
As always, SM owns. not me.
Beautiful Tyrant! Fiend Angelical!
A Prologue:
Two Households, both alike in dignity,
In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,
From ancient grudge break new mutiny.
Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.
From forth the fatal loins of these two foes
A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;
Whose misadventured piteous overthrows
Do with their death bury their parent's strife.
The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love,
And the Continuance of their parents' rage,
Which, but their children's end, nought could remove,
Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage;
The which if you with patient ears attend,
What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.
-Romeo and Juliet, William Shakespeare
New York City, Center of the Universe.
EPOV
My eyes grazed over the room, searching for something, I wasn't sure of what yet. The ballroom was filled with the usual botoxed, overly-tanned upper crest of New York socialites. It was the same old tiresome group I was used to. I pulled my dark mask over my face, covering the distaste that was usually worn. Another event hosted by family, I was bored and tired; they no longer excited me as they once did.
"Well hello, Cousin," an all too familiar voice called.
"Evening Emmett," I replied in the monotone voice that I had been falling into as of late. I kept my eyes on the party as I picked up my martini and drew a slow sip. The alcohol stung my taste buds like bitter gall. Drinking was the only thing that ignited my dead senses lately, that, and sometimes women. Emmett came to stand beside me and rested his elbows on the banister, checking out the crowd of peasants that milled about the ballroom of one of my father's hotels.
"Are you enjoying the party?" he asked me dryly, already knowing the answer.
I sneered at his remark and snorted in response.
"Hardly, these events have become horribly tiresome," I rolled my eyes from behind my mask and turned to face Emmett. I noticed for the first time what he was wearing. He had paired a devilish red mask and horns with his black tux.
"Nice outfit, cousin," I remarked. Emmett was known for being almost as slick and conniving as I, a fitting outfit for such an event, a masquerade. A chance to hide our faces from our friends and foes and for one night, reveal what was truly behind the mask.
"You see anything good here?" he asked me as we watched the patrons sway and dance in the ecstasy of the party from a safe distance.
"Just the usual pathetic lot from the looks of it," I replied. I had already worked my way through anyone worthy of a second glance. I needed a change of scene, or I'd have to succumb to cougar catching, which would never happen.
"Anyone worthwhile I've already fucked," I told him as I slowly churned my olive in my glass.
"Oh really? Are you so sure, dear cousin?"
"Unfortunately yes, and if not, It's not like I couldn't," I told him. I placed the olive between my teeth and pulled it from the tiny stick, and chewed at rubbery object.
"Hmm…" Finishing the rest of my drink, I turned to Emmett who was wearing a devious grin, one I knew all too well.
"What is it?" I asked him, unsure I really wanted to know.
"I have a proposition for you," He smiled and turned to face me.
"What might that be that?" I asked. He had piqued my interest.
"I pick someone, and you must go home with them tonight, and prove you can fuck whomever you chose." He stood and crossed his arms across his wide chest.
"Oh please, Emmett, this is too easy," I laughed.
"Then you shouldn't be afraid of the challenge," he retorted.
"Fine. What are the terms?"
"How about if you lose, you owe me one, whenever, whatever no questions asked and vice versa."
"Those hardly seem like high terms, Emmett."
"Maybe now, but you never know what favor you might need to cash in," he added.
"True," I remarked remembering the last time I had been arrested, my father had refused to bail me out, so it had been Emmett who had been there for me.
"Fine, who shall it be then?" I asked scanning the room with him from the upper balcony. We stood in silence as Emmett carefully chose his prey. I heard him snort and a sly grin grew across his face slowly and menacingly.
"There. The one with angel wings, wearing a cream dress. Let's see if Satan's worthiest seducer can lure even an angel back to his lair," Emmett said in a cold and low voice. I turned to see who Emmett was referring too; I spot her immediately. How had I not seen her before? I watched my objective move through the ballroom with an air of grace in her step. I didn't recognize her through her mask, perhaps there was some flesh blood in this room tonight after all.
"Deal." I stood straight and thrust my empty glass towards Emmett. He chuckled lightly as I walked away and headed towards the main staircase.
"I'll be watching you from here," he remarked. I smirked and slowly descended the stairs, my eyes transfixed on my prey.
This angelic figure swayed through the crowd, she wore a simple cream garment with tiny intricate beading woven throughout the material, no doubt a designer dress. In the center, a set of feathered wings splay from her back. Long, pin straight brown hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall, two strands were held back from the sides of her face by a pearled clip. She was petite and slim; no doubt she was young, probably about my age. I ran my usual tactics through my mind, perhaps if I remain anonymous; it would be to my advantage, my reputation often preceded me.
Keeping a safe distance, I watched her break away from her conversation and move towards the refreshment table. I chuckled when I watched her order a punch, how cute. Slowly striding my way around the perimeter of the room, I stalked her like a cat watching its unknowing prey. This would be interesting; the little angel was probably a virgin too. The girl hunched over when she received her drink, a quick flash of silver was pulled from her purse. I immediately recognized the object and had to hold in a chuckle. This beautiful swan-like creature had spiked her own punch, interesting. I decided to make my move and slightly strode up behind her and grasping her hand lightly, I leaned over to whisper in her ear.
"If I profane with my unworthiest hand, this holy shrine, this gentle sin is this: My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss." Sensing the blood rushing to her cheeks, she slowly turned to me. Beneath her mask I saw the most beautiful pair of deep brown eyes I had ever seen. Without missing a beat, she replied.
"Good pilgrim, you do wrong with your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this; for saint have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss."
She was good, really good. Obviously well educated, I liked that. I cracked a sideways grin and continued my line, "Have not saints lips, and holy palmer's too?"
"Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer," she said softly as she traced the outline of my lips with her delicate finger. Who was this girl?
"O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do; They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair."
"Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake," she taunted me slightly.
"Then move not, while my prayers effect I take. Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged," I delivered the last line and slowly leant in, her body unmoving as I lightly pressed my lips against her full round blushing set of pilgrims. A devil was I, giving my sin to an angel. I stepped away slowly. Her lashes fluttered beneath her mask, and jilted by our connection.
"Then have my lips the sin that they have took," she stammered out.
"Sin from my lips o trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again," I told her and kissed her again, more firmly and passionate than the last time. She seemed too sweet and innocent; I tasted the sugary fruit of punch and liquor on her lips as I grazed my tongue over them one last time before breaking the kiss.
"You kiss by the book," she smirked as me and continued "and lest I be a saint, worthy to absolve anyone of sin," she adlibbed and drew out her flask from her purse and threw back a sip. Her pink tongue darted out, a licked up a small drop from her lip.
"Miss, your mother wants to see you!" a stout grey haired woman rushed over and beckoned her. She nodded in reply and made to leave. No freaking way.
"Wait," I grasped her holy palm between mine and pulled her back. "Can I see you again?" I asked her before she left me. I stood waiting, as she looked me thoroughly up and down with a grin.
"I suppose so. I'll send my maid for you at midnight, be in the main lobby," she instructed me. Turning to leave, I held her hand firmly, not quite letting her go.
"And do you have a name?" I asked in a low voice, my eyes brooding with need behind my mask.
"You, my dear Romeo, can call me Juliet," she said playfully and chassed lightly away.
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