The wisest thing would probably have been to stay at the tavern until Raffaele came to fetch him. That had always been the plan whenever the two of them split up during their visits to the village: each would run their respective errands and, once done, they'd meet up again at that very place.

But the thing was, Dom didn't really like spending so much time there and—why not admit it?—what he actually enjoyed was setting off early to meet Raffaele halfway.

Doing so never failed to surprise him, and Dom liked being the reason for that smile on Raffaele's face.

It was becoming a small tradition of theirs. And today, accordingly, everything was supposed to go just like that, with the ease that routine brings. There was nothing risky about walking through narrow streets when the sky was already cloaked in darkness and not a soul was left wandering nearby.

Dom felt safe because... Well, not really. In truth, he didn't feel safe at all—his mind was simply elsewhere, already anticipating dinner and the friendly conversation that would follow.

Perhaps, if he had been more alert, he would have noticed that an unidentified figure had begun tailing him almost from the moment he stepped outside the tavern. Perhaps he would also have noticed the suspicious movements of said figure, who seemed very intent on keeping to the shadows and not being noticed.

As it was, Dom didn't realize anything until it was already too late.

The first thing that happened was like a breath of fresh air amid all the tension: Dom, still some distance away, spotted Raffaele coming toward him.

Once seen—and since Raffaele also recognized him—there was barely enough time to exchange a knowing smile before the tables turned and true danger made its appearance.

Clear footsteps were heard behind Dom. The sound was anything but subtle and made it obvious that someone was running toward him. Raffaele's expression turned serious in an instant and, just as Dom turned around to see what was happening, an unknown figure lunged at him.

Or rather, tried to.

Everything happened too quickly to process: Dom closed his eyes, bracing for impact—this time from an actual adult and not some harmless kitten. But the impact never came, and by the time Dom dared to look again, the scene had completely changed.

Raffaele, who by all logic should have been too far away to help in time, was now standing in front of him. And he wasn't alone: in the brief span of three seconds during which Dom saw nothing, Raffaele had somehow managed to subdue the attacker, pinning him to the ground and leaving him no chance of getting back up.

"W-what's going on?" Dom ventured to ask in a faint voice.

Seeing it might be necessary, he made a move to grab his knife—only to realize he wasn't carrying it.

Of course! How could he forget? The day he'd gone into the underground, he had dropped it and, distracted as he still was, hadn't even managed to pick it up! Because by the time he remembered it was on the ground, one of the stray cats had already spotted it. And, the blade being so shiny and positioned right by the canal's edge... Well, the outcome was obvious.

The cat, its malevolent gaze fixed on Dom, had pushed the knife into the canal to be taken away by the current. Just like that, without a second thought.

The result of that disgrace was that Dom had to abruptly pull away from Raffaele's arms in a futile attempt to recover an object that was clearly lost forever. And now, weeks after that incident, he was realizing with a hint of frustration that he was completely defenseless.

Dom had nothing to worry about, however, as Raffaele had everything under control.

With his knee pressed into the stranger's back and pinning his arms, there was no way the man could escape. In fact, he even seemed to have trouble breathing, his cheek pressed to the ground as he muttered curses nonstop.

The scene was nightmarish, and Dom couldn't help but feel that something was very wrong. Not because of the attacker, but because of Raffaele: he had always seemed so innocent and harmless, and yet now there was something almost feral in his gaze!

His eyes glowed brighter than ever in the shadows, he had shown strength and speed beyond that of most mortals, and—wait—weren't his fangs sharper too?

The truth had just revealed itself to Dom, and he could hardly believe it. A vampire! Raffaele was the vampire they had been searching for all this time!

"What a lack of respect," Dom said, though he seemed more confused than offended. "All these days living under the same roof, eating the same food, and you didn't mention the tiny detail that you were a vampire!"

"Would you mind saving that discussion for later?" Raffaele, who seemed utterly ruthless with the stranger—refusing to let him go no matter how much he squirmed—spoke to Dom with his usual gentleness.

"Oh, right. Need help? I don't have my knife on me, but if you want me to take over, I can sit on his back."

Raffaele was about to respond—probably to say no, since he was chivalrous even in the middle of a fight—but the stranger beat him to it.

Realizing his struggles were in vain, the man blurted out, clearly annoyed:

"Let me go already! I didn't sign up for this job to be dragged through the mud by the first bounty hunter who shows up!"

"No? Then tell me, why did you take the job?" Raffaele's tone was threatening, completely unlike the affable character Dom was used to.

"For the coins, obviously! Anyone would've done the same in my position." The stranger groaned in pain as Raffaele pressed his knee harder against his back, clearly disagreeing. "Look, if someone offered you fifty coins just to pretend to be a monster for a few weeks, wouldn't you take it?"

"Fifty coins?"

"I know about the vampire hunt and... come on, think how profitable this is! Normal folks have only a slim chance of making that money—if they get lucky and catch the monster. I, on the other hand, get guaranteed payment just for doing this."

"For doing what, exactly? Attacking defenseless people at night?"

"No, I didn't...!" he began, but seeing that both Dom and Raffaele were eyeing the rock he had dropped when they caught him, he quickly added, "I wasn't trying to kill anyone."

"Well, that's a relief," Dom murmured. "Now I feel much better."

"I didn't want to kill anyone," the stranger insisted. "I just needed to knock them out so I could leave the vampire mark on them without resistance."

"And how were you planning to do that?" Raffaele asked, a bit calmer now that he saw there was no fight left in the man.

"Check the right pocket of my jacket. That's where I keep the device I use for that kind of thing."

At a signal from Raffaele, Dom hurried to search the cursed pocket. And yes, in it he found what he was looking for: a little box that, when opened, revealed a pair of needles protruding from the wood, strategically placed to resemble fangs.

"The Count Sforza gave it to me, to help with the plan," the stranger continued explaining, without anyone having to prompt him. "I was supposed to leave a visible mark on the necks of everyone I attacked, to try to convince them that the vampire threat was real."

"Why the neck?"

"Is that a relevant question?" Dom looked at Raffaele curiously; if it were up to him, he would have been more interested in knowing Sforza's full plan or figuring out who the attacker they had in front of them really was.

"It's very important," Raffaele replied without a hint of doubt. "A bite on the neck is something very intimate. A vampire would only do that to a lover or someone they deeply trust. If it's a random human you run into on the street, the usual spot is the wrists."

"How embarrassing. Someone clearly didn't study immortal customs properly before acting. I would never carry out such a crude scam."

"Exactly! If you're not going to hire a real vampire, the least you can do is research how they operate. That's how you end up disgracing an entire—"

"Are you done with the ridiculous commentary? I'd like to stand up." And, after thinking it over for a second, not wanting to provoke Raffaele's wrath again, he added, "Please. I promise I won't try to hit anyone else."

The response came quickly. While Dom kicked the stone away from the attacker just in case he changed his mind, Raffaele helped him to his feet.

The stranger seemed, for a second, about to thank him for the help. But of course, that was before he looked into Raffaele's eyes and saw the same thing Dom had noticed minutes earlier.

A vampire! How could anyone not fear such a creature? This guy, though he might have suspected something after being caught so quickly, had no way of knowing there was something supernatural about Raffaele until he was in the perfect position to look him in the face. That's why he flinched, shut his mouth before a fly could enter, and opted to wait until one of the other two spoke again.

Mostly because—and this he must have assessed carefully—he no longer had any chance of fleeing.

"Tell us everything, from the beginning," Dom asked, ignoring the reaction of fear entirely. "Who you are, what the deal with Count Sforza was, and don't leave out any details."

And the man complied, because he had no choice.

His name was Girolamo and, just as they had speculated, he wasn't from San Cipriano dei Monti. In fact, he wasn't even from the Duchy of Milan.

He was a merchant. A traveler who, like Dom, was never flush with money. And so, once he met the lord of these lands by pure chance, he had no qualms about accepting a job as questionable as going around scaring people in disguise.

Because yes, he was wearing a disguise. His physical appearance matched the descriptions from recent witnesses, and as for his clothing, Girolamo confirmed it had been lent to him by the Count.