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
