“Che cosa? What are you doing?” a familiar woman’s voice echoed over the garden.

  I stood up straight and stared at her. “Fia? But I thought…” I pointed in the direction the bunny had scampered. “Never mind.” With my cheeks heating in embarrassment, I made my way back to her, hoping she hadn’t witnessed my little mistake.

  “I heard you were asking for me,” she said, wiping her hands on her apron.

  “I was,” I admitted. “And I may have thought you were trying to see me…in a whole different form.”

  She snickered. “You thought I would hop on over to talk to you?”

  Well, crap on a cracker. She had seen me. “After how you found me last night, I don’t think I’m totally crazy. Even if I looked it.”

  “What can I help you with?” Fia asked.

  I checked our perimeter again and moved a little closer to her. “I wanted to ask you some questions about last night. You seem to know a lot about,” I whispered in a quieter voice, “who we might have encountered in that very special room.”

  Her smile dropped. “This is not the place to talk. Since you are with Master Luca, you should know about his family and their sense of hearing.”

  I winced. It didn’t occur to me that even if I couldn’t see anybody near us, it didn’t mean somebody couldn’t listen in. Not in a household of vampires.

  “I am not done with work yet, but if I tell my boss that you specifically require my assistance, I am sure I will be permitted to accompany you should you want to go somewhere.” She lifted her eyebrows to underscore her meaning.

  I caught on quickly. “Oh, right.” I spoke in a louder, awkward tone. “Fiametta, would you be able to take me into town and show me around?”

  “Very convincing,” she snorted. “Give me a few minutes, and I will meet you at the back entrance.”

  I thought about all the corridors and rooms. “Where is that?”

  Fia chuckled. “Okay, stay here, and I will come to you.”

  Her feet crunched on the gravel as she returned inside, and I took a stroll through the manicured garden. Someone had cultivated each grouping of flowers into elaborate patterns of colors.

  Someone else joined me in the garden, and I stopped my admiration and looked up, expecting to find Fiametta. Instead, Amara strode with perfect steps despite her insanely high heels.

  She said something to me as she approached, and even though I couldn’t understand the words, her condescending tone was easy enough to interpret.

  “Oh, I forgot you don’t speak Italian,” she uttered, not an ounce of apology on her flawless face. Her eyes roamed over my body as she judged my outfit. “Are you feeling well today?”

  Holding my head up high despite my slight discomfort, I looked her straight in the eyes. “Yes, I am, thank you for asking.”

  “I only inquire after your health due to your appearance.” Amara frowned as if concerned. “You look as if you have just woken up and have not had the time to properly dress for the day.”

  Well, bless her cold, dead, non-beating heart. If she wanted to play games, I knew a trick or two myself.

  Putting on my best and brightest smile, I laid my accent on thick. “Oh, honey, you have no idea. Luke and I stayed up all night together, and…well, since my manners don’t allow me to divulge what goes on between a man and his fiancé behind closed doors, I’ll let you do the imagining.” I winked at her with petty pleasure.

  My little ploy to get her to think about my relationship with Luke did the trick. The snide woman’s face paled even further.

  She coughed a little, pressing her hand to her chest. “Yes…well…”

  “Amara,” Cassio called out on his way to rescue to me. “What a pleasant surprise to see you today.” He greeted her like an old friend, kissing both of her cheeks. “And Ruby, may I say that in the light of the sun, your hair is even more stunning. There are women across the world who would pay handsomely for hair blessed with that lovely shade.”

  I primped my locks in jest. “And all it took for me was a little luck in the gene pool.” Neither of them needed to know that while I got my hair color from my mother, there was nothing else I’d claim from that abandoning witch.

  “How sad for you that the passage of time will make it all fade away.” Despite the dreadful message of her statement, the awful woman grinned with glee, her fangs gleaming in the sun.

  “You are truly incorrigible, Amara. Retract your fangs and let us join our friends for lunch in town,” Cassio instructed, flashing me a sympathetic roll of the eyes.

  “Oh, will Luca be joining us?” she asked, being sure to watch me for a reaction.

  “I am sure he has better companions to spend his time with,” Cassio answered for me. “You are welcome to join us, Ruby. If you have not spent any time in Perdaggia, we could show you around after eating.”

  “Perhaps you can volunteer your time in such a mundane venture,” Amara sniffed. “I think it will rain this afternoon.”

  “Aw, and we wouldn’t want you to float, now, would we?” I joked.

  She frowned. “I thought the phrase was melting in the rain.”

  “That’s sugar. Sugar melts. There are other things that float when they are in the water,” I said as sweet as pie.

  Cassio snorted and did nothing to hide his amused comprehension. Amara narrowed her eyes at me. “I do not understand why Luca would choose someone like you. I hope you get drenched.”

  Since both of them already knew about my status as a witch, I didn’t see the harm in my response. Summoning a little of my fire energy down my arm, I walked over to a nearby fountain and reached under the cascades of water. The heat from my magic evaporated the drops before they could touch me.

  “I don’t get wet,” I bragged, twisting my arm this way and that for good measure. “I burn.”

  Amara swore in Italian. “Come. Let us leave.” She stomped away with less grace than before.

  Cassio let her put some distance between us before he addressed me. “You cannot let her get to you like that. She knows how to rattle her victims and has had centuries of practice.”

  “I know, I know,” I grumbled, guilt replacing my temporary triumph. “And now she has firsthand knowledge of my powers.”

  “Oh, to be sure, others will have that knowledge very soon,” Cassio said, backing away from me. “Be more careful, Ruby Mae.”

  Fiametta appeared at the door from the castle and paused when she caught sight of Luke’s friend leaving me. She dropped her head and curtsied to him as he passed. Hurrying over to me, she grabbed my arm and rushed me away. I tried to talk to her, but she stayed quiet until we reached her small, dark green car.

  She unlocked the door for me with her key and did the same on her side. Although the interior of the vehicle barely fit the two of us, I didn’t mind being cramped as long as I got some answers.

  “I saw what you did.” Fia gritted as she drove us down the road, leaving the grounds of the castle. “And you don’t know who else might have seen your foolish display.”

  I winced. “I know. I let my ego get the best of me. No, I let Amara rile me up to do something stupid.”

  Fiametta grunted. “Yes, she is a nasty woman. Always rude to the staff. Many are afraid of dealing with her.”

  “I can understand. But you’re right,” I said, guilt swirling in my stomach.

  Fia drove us down a curvy road that led away from Perdaggia and out a different exit of the walled city. Once we were on the other side, she blew out a long sigh.

  “If Amara pushed you to act as you did, then I am not so sure I would have done anything different than you. I am sorry for my irritation,” she said.

  We were running away from the possible consequences of my actions, and I wouldn’t know until I returned just how much I’d screwed up. The image of Luke’s disappointment on his face haunted my imagination.

  “No, my daddy raised me to be smarter than that. And if Granny Jo ever manifests again, I’m sure I’ll get an earful.” I drew out the token from underneath my shirt and rubbed it.

  Fia’s eyes flashed to the metal in my fingers, but she didn’t ask about it. “There have been many times I wanted to react with magic openly at the castle. But the risk would have been too great.”

  “Why are you there? I don’t quite understand how everything works. If Luke’s family has run the place for as long as I think they have, then why hasn’t anyone exposed them for what they are? And how could anyone who did know actually work for them?” Questions that had been piling up for a while came tumbling out of my mouth.

  Fia chuckled. “That is a lot all at once. As far as how it works, the de Rossi family is revered in Perdaggia because they saved the town from destruction. The family made sure that the residents have survived every hardship that befell the world outside the city walls. But inside the old barrier, they have kept everyone fed and safe for centuries. That kind of protection generates a lot of loyalty.”

  “So much that nobody questions why the two at the top of the food chain never age?” I challenged, thinking about Luke’s parents.

  “There is, of course, talk and the occasional small uprising of outrage from random zealots,” Fiametta admitted. “But the de Rossi’s generosity, although genuine, has been used to enforce compliance and secrecy. Also, the family is skilled at changing their appearances over time to match the years passing.”

  It still boggled my mind that anyone who suspected they were vampires would accept that without question. Then again, if I knew my family survived for many generations due to a generous benefactor, I might not want to rock the boat too much either.

  “What about those who work for them? You’re a witch. Are the rest vampires?” I asked.

  The car slowed to a stop at an intersection. The sign ahead of us gave the names of towns, but the arrows pointing the direction to get there went both ways. Like the de Rossi household, it didn’t make any sense at all.

  Fia turned right and continued. “No, most of the staff are regular mortals. Achieving the opportunity to work in the castle is a great honor. The pay is the best in the region. The benefits are amazing. And we have to sign a very serious contract that includes severe consequences if any of us talk about what we see or hear.”

  “In other words, they would ruin your world if you tried to attack theirs,” I clarified.

  “Sì. But it is how it has worked for many centuries, and that is how I was able to procure the job.” She slowed again and turned left onto a gravel road. “My place is just down here.”

  “I’m surprised you don’t live in town,” I said.

  Fia scoffed. “I prefer to distance myself a bit and to keep my privacy.”

  Tall, thin cypress trees lined the driveway, and we crested a hill to find a modest home made of cream stone. Fiametta parked her car next to it, and we both got out. Old scraggly trees dotted the hilled landscape, but the view was spectacular.

  A cool wind picked up, and I glanced at the darkening sky ahead of me. Amara might have been right about rain coming. I’d bet anything watching a storm from this vantage point would be beautiful. I got so caught up in taking it all in that I didn’t hear her call my name to follow her inside.

  “This location is amazing,” I gushed as I entered.

  The word that sprung into my head the second I saw the interior of her place was cozy. The space may have been small, but every piece of furniture and decoration fit perfectly.

  Fia called out for me through another door, and I followed into a tidy kitchen with herbs hanging from the ceiling, a large fireplace, some modern appliances, and a sturdy table in the middle.

  “This is the heart of my home,” she admitted with a smile. “I spend most of my time in here.”

  I gazed out the large window at the scenery. “I can understand why.”

  She pulled out a chair. “Here, you sit. I will make you something to eat.” She retrieved a nearby apron and donned it.

  “Oh, don’t go to any trouble,” I said, but my stomach rumbled in protest.

  Fia giggled. “It is my pleasure. And I can tell you why I work at the castle while I cook.”

  She poured me a glass of dark red wine to sip while I listened and watched. For the first time since I’d arrived in Italy, I felt comfortable. The location might have changed, but this was no different than sitting in the big house watching Granny do her thing.

  “My choice to work for the de Rossi family was made for me long ago although I did not know it until my nonna passed away a few years ago.” Fiametta chopped some vegetables while she spoke.

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” I uttered, touching the token around my neck.

  “It was tough. This was her house that she and my grandfather built.” She nodded out the window. “They planted every one of those olive trees themselves, and I remember coming to help harvest the olives every year. And when my parents died, she took me in and raised me.”

  “Did she know what you were? That you were a witch?” I asked.

  “Oh, yes. She was one herself, and she taught me how to harness my magic as well as all my cooking skills. It is her bloodline that flows through me and connects the past to my present.” She lit a fire on her gas burner and heated up a skillet. “I come from a lost line of the Benandanti.”

  The name itself sounded so exotic. “Who are they?”

  “History remembers them as evil people who were accused of various forms of witchcraft. Many of the family lines were destroyed during the great European witch hunts.” She uncorked an unlabeled bottle and poured some oil into the heated pan.

  “Your magic allows you to change into an animal?” I asked, remembering the night in Isabella’s room.

  She smiled as she threw some garlic into the pan. The distinct aroma filled the room. “Yes, my nonna thought I was especially skilled at it. A mouse is my preferred choice I think because that’s what she used to change into the most. But I can manifest into other small forms as well.”

  I thought about my cousin Deacon and his problems. Maybe Fia could help him figure out how to change back into his human form? The pan sizzled as Fia added more ingredients, bringing me back to the here and now. We had more pressing issues to discuss.

  “I don’t understand how your past chose your present,” I said, wanting to make all the connections.

  Fia stirred the contents in the pan and then opened her refrigerator and pulled out a container. She drew out what looked like noodles and added them in.

  “Ah, but what follows will delight you the most. Do you know why Isabella de Rossi died?” she asked, tossing the ingredients in the skillet with skilled flicks of her wrist.

  “She fell in love with a witch and refused to give up her lover,” I said, giving the short version of what Luke had told me.

  “Precisely.” Fia turned off the burner and retrieved two shallow bowls from a shelf. “I am descended from that witch. Paulo Gasparotto is my ancestor and he was Isabella’s fiancé.”

  She poured the contents of the pan into the two bowls and busied herself finishing the dishes with sprinkled herbs and grated cheese. Setting my plate in front of me, she poured more wine in my glass and set a plate with a hunk of bread in between us as she sat down at the table.

  I leaned over and drew in the delicious scent. “This smells so good. What’s in it?” I asked.

  Fiametta beamed with pride. “It is a family recipe. Nothing fancy.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short. There are expensive restaurants who wish they had a dish like this.” I raised my glass to toast her. “Where I’m from, we use food to show our love and care for each other. Thank you for the meal.”

  Fia’s cheeks reddened, and she clinked her glass against mine. “Grazie. Now, please eat.”

  I swirled some of the fresh pasta onto the end of my fork and inserted it into my mouth. “Holy hexes, that is like nothing I’ve ever eaten before,” I groaned. “It tastes very earthy.”

  Her eyebrows raised in appreciation. “Very good. I’ve used some fresh mushrooms I foraged this past weekend as well as some fresh onions and garlic.”

  “That’s it?” I asked, incredulous that so few ingredients could create something that tasty.

  Fiametta ate some of her own dish and nodded. “Good food does not need complications. And fresh is always best. If you are here over the next weekend, I could take you into the forest to hunt for mushrooms. It can be a fun game. Which ones are edible. Which ones might kill you.”

  I stopped chewing. “I’m assuming you used some good ones.”

  Her eyes widened, and she dropped her fork, clutching her throat. Just when I thought I felt a scratchiness in mine, she laughed at her own joke.

  “I am well trained in which mushrooms are safe,” she assured me, continuing to eat. “These are amanita caesarea, or Caesar’s mushrooms. We call them ovoli. But there are deadly varieties. You do not want to make a mistake and use ovoli delle mortali. There are many in the same species that can cause sickness or death.”

  “Sounds like a dangerous hobby,” I said, digging into my pasta again.

  Fia shrugged. “It makes it a fun challenge. But I know which mushrooms are like gold and which ones to avoid well enough.” She tore off a hunk of bread and paused. “Would you like to see something else that will amaze you?”

  “Sure.” I busied myself with finishing my lunch, washing it down with the simple but good wine.

  I heard the sound of a heavy piece of furniture being moved and scraping on the stone floor. Something fell, and a muffled Italian expletive echoed in the small house. Fia returned a little breathless, holding a small box and placing it in front of me. She set a notebook down nearby on the table.

  Pushing my plate away and draining the rest of the wine, I readied myself for what was inside the wooden container. A pair of hearts intertwined on the worn surface. Someone had carved letters inside the hearts.

  My fingers traced the carving. “P and J?” I asked.

  “No, that’s an I. Paolo and Isabella.” Fia scooted her chair closer to sit next to me. “My grandmother said this box has been handed down throughout the generations. Open it.”

 

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