neither a threat nor a source of food and went back to grazing on the grass at their feet.
I could see a small village spread out in a valley down near the river, but as much as I wanted to go and find some semblance of civilization, I couldn't resist the feeling that Rog would have some tendrils in the area. Best to just avoid people at all costs.
All I could do was keep walking, following the road that circled away from the village, heading more or less in the same direction that I had taken from the airport.
A small farmhouse next to the road was coming up when I felt something pulling at me. Nothing physical, but it didn't have to be. I kept looking forward, trying to push myself past it, but while my mind was more than capable, something was off with the rest of my body, stopping me from physically continuing.
"Are you all right?"
I turned, fully expecting to see Rog standing there, mocking me, but instead all I could see was an older man sitting on an old wooden chair with a massive gray and black dog lying at his feet as a small flock of goats came in closer to the house.
It was difficult to answer, and I tried to push myself against whatever it was that was holding me back again, and once again, it felt like there were ropes suddenly going taut, keeping me from taking another step. My heart started beating faster the more I fought against the force. Was this part of whatever Rog had done to me?
"Yes," I finally answered, looking over to the old man as he lit up an ancient clay pipe. "Hi. Who... who are you?"
"Bram Vonner," the man answered, pushing himself up on his seat and tipping the threadbare tan fedora on his head before sitting down again. "What you see is my little farm. Mostly goats are my trade, as folk around like to drink their milk. How about you? Tourist?"
I tilted my head, moving closer to the farmhouse, and suddenly, there was nothing stopping me there. Odd.
"Nilsa Kane," I answered. "And yes, I guess you could say I'm a tourist. Are there a lot of tourists around here? Your English is pretty good, so I assume that there are more than just locals."
"Most definitely," Bram replied, and his dog lifted his head, studying me closely as I approached the short wooden gate. "Not so many as to crowd us, but there are certainly enough to make learning and practicing English possible."
"Because..." I looked around the landscape. Beautiful as it was, I couldn't see why English-speaking tourists would find their way here. "Why are there a lot of tourists around here?" Were they being used as sacrifice to the demon? And here I let him trick me into marrying him. No, it had to be a mistake.
"You... are not a tourist then?" the old man asked.
"Not really. Sort of. What is the draw to this place?"
"Well, if you look into the mountains over there"—Bram raised his hand, pointing over to the west, and sure enough, I could see some highlands in that direction—"that is where you will find what was once the castle of Vlad Tepes of Wallachia, Son of the Dragon."
"Vlad... the Impaler?" I gasped. Were there vampires here too? I grew up knowing supernatural existed, but I’d never crossed paths with any in New York. Maybe they chose to live in rural areas like this one and away from humans who had no clue they existed.
"Indeed. And it was the inspiration for the Dracula stories. My mother was certainly a fan, so she named me after the author," he continued.
"Huh," I grunted, coming in closer. The huge dog perked up, looking more like a wolf than a domestic dog, slowly climbing to his feet. He didn't look too aggressive, and he padded over to where I was standing with the gate at my back.
"Dracul is a beast, but a calm one," Bram said, laughing as the dog took a sniff from my hand.
"Dracul...a?"
"No, no. Dracul means Dragon, and it was also the name of Vlad's father, which is why he is known as son of the dragon."
"I... didn't know that." I kept eyeing Dracul, who finally finished inspecting my hand and walked back over to the small terrace where Bram was seated, curling up on the ground.
"Well, now you do. Would you like some tea? Nothing better than a nice cup of tea