Page 100 of Hoofin’ It

I smiled. “Nymphs, believed to be the daughters of Nyx, the constant companion of Hecate.”

Marian’s eyes widened. “Hecate? The Greek goddess?”

“Roman, too.”

“Is she real?”

I held my hands up in a gesture of both surrender and ignorance. “Who am I to say? All I know is that sometimes, if you’re on the balcony, you might see lights in the distance, and no one is ever really sure what they saw, except it’s never the same.”

Marian leaned towards me and asked in a hushed voice, “Have you seen them?”

“I haven’t, but I think I’ve heard them,” I confessed in a conspiratorial whisper. “It is said Hecate favors dogs, for they help her to guide the spirits of the dead. Once, I thought I heard the braying of dogs in the distance, but no one else heard it.”

“You have to be pulling my leg.”

“Would I do that?”

“Yes.”

I laughed. “I did think I heard the dogs. As for the rest, it’s just a story—a really interesting story, one close to the heart of Ernesto’s daughter.”

“Just when I start to think I understand you, you surprise me again, Shane.”

I smiled and was saved from having to answer by Quinton, who came bearing a bottle of wine so encrusted with dust I couldn’t imagine how it had survived the ages. Then again, I could.

At Michietti’s, anything was possible.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

If I’d read the Roman numerals on the label correctly, we were drinking a two thousand year old bottle of wine. The rest of the label made no sense to me; ancient Latin looked like gibberish to me. I hadn’t even realized the Romans had fashioned anything out of glass.

The bottle’s long, fluted neck and short, bulbous bottom were unusual, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what the label itself was made of, but it was tied to the glass rather than glued. Quinton pulled the stopper and poured the wine into my glass then waited for me to taste it and discover if it had somehow survived the millenniums since its making. I lifted the glass, holding it up so I could get a good look at the liquid in the light streaming in behind the old vampire.

The ruby wine looked okay, and when I gave it a swirl and sniffed it, its sweetness surprised me. I took a cautious sip.

I’d tasted a lot of wines over the years, from the earthy ones Ernesto favored to the sweeter, aged ports. Fruity sweetness, spice, and earth mingled on my tongue in a delicate balance, no flavor overpowering the other until I couldn’t quite tell where one ended and the other began.

“It’s exquisite.” I had no other word for the vintage, and I doubted I’d ever taste the wine’s equal again.

Quinton smiled and filled Marian’s glass before topping mine off. “My sister will be so pleased. It was her very first, and it holds a special place in her heart.”

Thousands of years had left Pierina’s heart shriveled, renewed only when she fed from a human. “She honors us.”

Marian tried a sip and sucked in a breath. “It’s so different.”

“Grapes have survived thousands of years, but these were not the same grapes that grow now. You’ll not taste its like again. A pity, really.” Quinton restored the stopper to the bottle. “I’ll take the bottle inside and bring it back when you’re ready for more. When you leave, my dear sister would like you to take the bottle home with you so it might become a cherished memory. I’ll bring your appetizers shortly.”

I should have known Pierina would take matters into her own hands. Knowing her, we’d sample everything on the menu before she finished feeding us.

“Thank you.” The two words seemed insignificant compared to what the vampires offered, but Quinton bowed and left us.

“How old is this wine, Shane?”

“At least two thousand years old. I’m pretty sure the label was written in ancient Latin, and the numerals were in the single digits. I’m not sure if it’s from AD or BC, though.”

“Oh my god.” She stared at her glass. “I’m supposed to drink this? Me? How was it preserved for so long?”

“I’m going to guess magic, which is why Quinton took the bottle back inside.”