By the time Dom finally decided to venture into the forest in search of the promised castle, he had no hope whatsoever of encountering any supernatural creatures.

In fact, if it weren't for the fact that from the village one could make out the roof of one of the fortress's towers peeking through the trees, he might have even thought that the so-called castle was actually just a slightly larger hut than what was common in the village—hence why it had been given such a grandiose nickname.

But after fifteen minutes of walking along the rocky path that wound through those hills, Dom finally arrived at his destination. And how wrong he had been in his assumptions! The castle was there, rising imposingly from the ground.

Judging by its Romanesque style and the worn condition of its walls, the structure must have stood there for at least three centuries. It didn't have many windows, and one of its four towers was partially collapsed, as if it hadn't survived an enemy attack at some uncertain point in history. Ivy and other vegetation covered much of its walls, leaving only the front door and a small section of the narrow path connecting the castle to the village of San Cipriano dei Monti free of overgrowth.

However, the most impressive thing was neither the size of the alleged vampire's dwelling nor the dreadful rumors surrounding it. No, what suddenly unsettled Dom was that, despite the brightness of the morning, the castle seemed to loom in darkness. Over the centuries, the trees had grown thick around it, creating countless shadows and giving it the kind of eerie air one might expect from the darkest legends of the region.

Given the circumstances, was it really so unreasonable to doubt the villagers' disbelief?

Perhaps not a vampire, but at this point, as Dom resumed his approach toward the gate, he could very well imagine this fortress being overrun with a gang of bandits. Or some sort of criminals who roamed from town to town, seeking new victims to rob—or perhaps even kill.

It was a terrible scenario, no matter how one looked at it. And just after knocking on the door, Dom began to seriously wonder whether he had made a mistake. Sure, he wasn't the most honest man in the world, fine—but he had never committed a crime so severe as to deserve becoming vampire fodder!

Well, neither vampire fodder nor the target of any other being—dead or alive—wielding a sharp weapon.

Why couldn't he just turn around right now and, if anyone in the village asked, simply say he planned to handle the matter with utmost neutrality, without assuming anyone's guilt? After confirming that much, he could carry on with his deception as usual. There was no need to speak with this Raffaele Marchesi, the man rumored to be rich, to eat children, and to live in a house as sinister as hell.

Yes, that was exactly what he was going to do after all. Unlike people like Renzo—who was still too young to understand how life worked—Dom knew there was a fine line between bravery and stupidity. And Dom had no problem admitting that he was a coward, so long as he lived to swindle another day!

"Oh, you're new here, aren't you? I've never seen you before," said the stranger who had just opened the gate—before Dom had a chance to flee. "What brings you here?"

To Dom's credit, this wasn't the first time he had been caught in a compromising situation. And as an experienced trickster—so he considered himself—he had no trouble setting aside his fears and slipping into the persona of a charming salesman.

"I'm just a humble traveling merchant," Dom said, flashing his well-practiced smile. "I arrived in town just yesterday."

"That explains it. I don't go to the village much, as I prefer the solitude of the countryside."

This had to be the eccentric Signore Raffaele everyone talked about. Dom knew it immediately from the immaculate clothes he wore, fit for a noble of high status, which starkly contrasted with the image one might expect of a man who had chosen to live in what appeared to be an abandoned structure.

His physical appearance, on the other hand, didn't entirely match the vampire descriptions Dom had heard.

Because, well, the only thing they got right was the black hair. As for the rest... No pale skin, not at all. In fact, the guy looked even more tanned than Dom himself, who was used to spending his days under the sun. He could have been a foreigner, perhaps, if not for the unmistakably southern Italian accent in his speech. And as for his eyes, they weren't red or glowing in any particular way either.

Dom did find them rather striking, though. But again, that proved nothing.

"You're in luck, then, that I decided to pay you a visit," Dom finally declared, as if it were the greatest honor for a wandering merchant to go out of his way to pester someone in their own home. "I have something here that might interest you..."

"A crucifix?" Raffaele eyed the small wooden cross with curiosity, though he made no move to touch it.

"Not just any crucifix—the Crucifix! You see, this cross belonged to none other than Saint Roch. And all those who have carried it have enjoyed good fortune and a long life." Not that a vampire would need the latter, Dom thought, but still... "Its last owner, the man who gave it to me, was a pilgrim who safely made his entire journey to and from the Holy Land without being robbed. And once there, he bathed the cross in the waters of the Jordan River, which only strengthened its miraculous powers."

"Oh, really? And what happened to this intrepid pilgrim that he had to part with such a prized relic?"

"Just the way of life, simply put. He passed away of old age, but not before giving me the crucifix and, with his final breath, pleading that I find it a worthy owner." After a dramatic pause—mostly for effect—Dom concluded, "And today, I've found the right person."

"You mean me?" As with his previous questions, Raffaele seemed amused, showing no sign of slamming the door in Dom's face anytime soon.

Dom wasn't sure if that was good or bad.

"Of course, I mean you! And I'll say more: since I've taken such a liking to you, I'll let you have it for free."

"For free? I don't know... If it's so special, it should have a fair price."

"And it would, for any other mortal—but not in your case." Dom bit his tongue just in time to avoid digging himself a deeper grave. "So no buts—I insist."

Maybe he had expected Raffaele to refuse the crucifix or, if he touched it, to jerk his hand away as if it burned him. But neither of those things happened.

Although slightly hesitant, Raffaele took the crudely carved cross with complete ease. Not only did the relic not seem to harm him, but he was reacting to it better than most potential buyers—far better than those impatient customers who had nearly thrown Dom's last miraculous ointment at his head!

Dom cursed under his breath. Maybe, he thought, he should have dipped that crucifix in holy water before testing it on Raffaele.

The only reason he hadn't was because, before heading into the forest, he'd noticed that the church wasn't open yet. And honestly, he couldn't be bothered to wait for the priest to show up.

Wasn't a vampire supposed to react to a crucifix regardless of whether it was blessed or not? Sure, the story about Saint Roch, the pilgrim, and his grand odyssey had been complete nonsense—but a creature like that should still feel some dread toward certain symbols!

Or so they said. But Raffaele didn't even flinch. And after deciding he was indeed worthy of such a shoddy gift, he smiled and asked:

"Why don't you come in? Since you've been so kind as to offer me such a valuable cross, I'd like to invite you to join me for some tea."

"May I?"

"Of course. I don't usually have many guests here because, for some reason I fail to grasp, these rural folks prefer to avoid the forest."

"It must be the wild dogs. I heard at the tavern that there are quite a few in this area."

Or the supposedly abandoned castle with an alleged vampire inside. Though, as Dom soon realized, being an ancient monster didn't necessarily make one more self-aware.

"Funny, I've been here for nearly three months and haven't seen a single wild dog. I always thought the villagers avoided the forest because of the bugs," Raffaele mused, with the sincerity of someone who was either not a vampire or had never heard the rumors. "Anyway, are you coming?"