Luke pointed at his head. “I thought you might want to protect your hair. When we pull off of the autostrada, I intend to put the top down so we can enjoy the view properly.”
In no time, he drove us from the middle of the busy city onto the highway. I did my best to grit my teeth and bear the fast pace as the speedometer crept higher and higher. When we exited, Luke parked the car and dropped the top. Making sure my scarf was secure, he resumed the drive in a more leisurely manner.
Every twist and turn of the two-lane road brought another picturesque scene into view. More than once, I begged him to pull over so I could snap as many pictures as possible to remember the roaming beauty of the land less than two hours north of Rome.
The sun set in the sky as the road curved and wound its way toward a walled city that rose in front of us. Parking lots full of cars lined the sides as we got closer to the two-story gap in the wall.
“Because the roads are so thin and mostly cobblestone, they limit how many vehicles can enter and drive through the city,” Luke explained as we approached the entrance. “They make the buses and other tourists park outside and walk in.”
As we drove closer, a few people yelled at us or held up their hands to get us to stop. My fiancé ignored them and kept driving until he reached a man in uniform who stood in our way.
The guard spoke to Luke in fast Italian, and my fiancé retrieved his wallet from the pocket of his sports coat draped over my lap to keep me warm during our drive. Whatever he showed to the guard did the trick, and our car was allowed through.
“We’ll take it slow, but keep your eyes open for the surprise,” he teased. “You’ll know it when you see it.”
Luke navigated the streets with ease and patience. Several times, we had to wait for tourists to move out of the way so we could drive by. The busy center of the town gave way to a driveway that seemed more private.
He pointed to my right. “Keep your eyes trained on that spot just over that hill.”
We drove a little farther until we crested a hill. Crowds of people dotted the nearby landscape, many with professional cameras snapping the image that captured their attention. My breath caught in my throat and my mouth opened.
A large stone castle sat on the hillside, but it was the facade of it that everyone admired. The last rays of the day’s sun reflected off the stone in a manner that made it blaze a bright red.
“The name Castello di Rossi means the castle that belongs to the di Rossi family. But it has a bit of a double meaning that many have noted over the centuries,” Luke explained.
“Double meaning?” I asked, still captivated by the bright color of the building that made it otherworldly as we drove closer.
“Sì. Many call it the Red Castle, which matches well because my surname actually means red.” He slowed down and pulled over so I could take in the full effect. “But since it was built during a time of much violence and death, it also earned a moniker befitting it.”
I stopped staring at his ancestral home and faced him. “What name was that?”
The car rolled back onto the narrow road, and Luke drove us to the entrance to the castle. The color of his home deepened the closer we arrived.
As we drove through the gate to enter the grounds, Luke answered my question. “Castello di Sangue.”
Even though I couldn’t translate the words, something about his tone made me shiver. “And what does that mean?”
My fiancé grinned, and I mistook his expression for happiness. It took me a moment to notice his protruding fangs on display.
“In English, it means Castle of Blood.”
Chapter Eight
I don’t know what I expected when I found out Luke’s family occupied an actual, real live castle. The only vision of what one might be came from movies or television. Oh, and that one time I ate at Medieval Times for one of Deacon’s birthdays.
No trumpets announced our arrival once Luke brought us inside. In fact, he avoided the front entrance altogether.
“Isabella, Cassio, and I tried to map all of the secret passageways once,” he said as he ran his hand over the rough stone exterior. “The hard thing to know is which ones will lead you directly to rooms you want to avoid. I remember once, Isa and I found this one passage and followed it, only to exit into our parents’ private chambers.”
I thought about the one time I’d gotten scared during a thunderstorm at night and had busted into my parents’ bedroom. My mom had shrieked at me to go away, and I was too young to catch onto why she would send her scared child back to her room. It wasn’t long after that when she left us forever. I never told Dad I blamed myself for losing her.
“Aha! Here’s the touchstone.” Luke placed his palm over one particular rock in the wall. When he pulled it away, a little blood smeared on his pale skin.
He licked his hand clean and the tiny puncture wound disappeared. “The mechanism requires a little sacrifice so the place can recognize friend or foe.”
I lifted my eyebrow at him. “That sounds an awful lot like spellcraft. Unless vampires gained a level of magic we’ve all been unaware of.”
The second I uttered the word “magic,” a line in the shape of a door appeared in the wall, becoming more solid by the second. With a loud kerthunk and a click, the
