Epilogue - Specially Crafted Lycanthrope Bean Balm

I flounced over to Conrad’s room a week later.

Flounced, for those of you who don’t know, is a word that Victorian vampires use to describe any kind of enthusiastic movement that happens around them in the middle of the day when they’d rather be sleeping.

Count Vasil was asleep, so I could flounce with abandon.

I gave a cheerful rap on Conrad’s door, and waited.

“Come in, Mera,” he called.

When I entered, he was sitting at his desk doing some paperwork. I crossed the room and leaned over him, resting my chin on his shoulder since I didn’t want him to forget I was there.

“What are you up to?” I asked.

“Spring’s coming,” he said. “I’m getting a list ready for what the yard needs.”

I straightened up with an excited oh! “Do we get flowers?”

“Some. Igor’s been asking about a vegetable garden, and I think the rest of the grounds are under enough control I could try it out.” His eyes swiveled up to me. “Do you know anything about growing vegetables?”

I shook my head.

“Me neither.” He put down his pen, leaned back in his chair, and crossed his arms. “I’ll have to do some research.”

“But I thought you knew everything about being a groundskeeper.”

Conrad chuff-laughed. “No. I picked it all up as I went along. I hated the idea of staying here with nothing to keep me busy.” His nose suddenly rose by an inch and his pale-yellow eyes narrowed. “That smell again.” He turned to me. “What are you up to?”

I grinned and pulled the small glass jar out from around my back where I’d been hiding it. “Could this be what you’ve been smelling?”

“Yes.” He eyed me. “What is it?”

“First you have to tell me if you like the scent.”

“It’s not bad.”

Ah, yes. Conrad and his legendary indifference to smells. I could’ve pounded a truckful of rotting rose petals into it and he probably wouldn’t have cared.

“That’s good enough,” I declared.

Olivia and I had endured enough of each other. We needed a week-long break. At least. Maybe a month.

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“You don’t usually wear perfume,” Conrad noted.

“You think this is what perfume smells like?”

“Isn’t it?”

So much for trying to avoid a flowery scent. Sure, there was a bit of lavender in there—but it was only a hint! On the other hand, the concept of masculine and feminine smells was a human thing. I couldn’t expect a wolfman to know about it. Especially considering how much research Olivia and I had to do.

“It’s not perfume,” I explained. “It’s a gift.” I grabbed one of his massive paws. Once he figured out what I was doing, he helped me lift it up and turn it over so his chapped palm was facing up. As I put the jar in his hand, I said, “Now, I promise you don’t have to like it, and if you throw it away, that’s fine, I won’t be offended or anything, but this is for you, as a thank you for helping me train.”

He eyed it. “Okay. What is it?”

“It’s a moisturizing balm specially designed for lycanthrope hands. It uses only the highest quality ingredients, and I would know because I made it myself!” Honesty compelled me to add, “Olivia helped.” I lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Anyway, since I made it, you can’t object by saying it’s for dogs. It was made for you.”

He continued staring at it.

I’d meant every word about it being okay if he threw it in the trash. Considering how much I struggled with gifts, I never wanted anyone to feel obliged when I gave them something. I ascribed, one-hundred percent, to the idea that it’s the thought that counts and the rest can be tossed.

But I hadn’t expected such a complete non-reaction.

“Um,” I said. “Conrad?”

He roused himself. “No! This is…Thank you, Emerra. This does smell good. I appreciate the fact you were thinking of me.”

Ah. The thought had been acknowledged. I smiled ruefully and asked, “Shall I get the garbage can?”

He rubbed his eyebrow ridge with his free hand. “Well…”

When Conrad looked up, his eyes met mine for less than a second before his gaze dashed off to the corner of the room. His ears started twitching through various levels of flatness. I tried not to laugh at his embarrassment, lest the next person being laughed at was myself.

“Are you going to tell me what you’re thinking,” I asked, “or just draw doodles in the air with your ears?”

The ears briefly agreed on a lower setting—meaning I’d managed to annoy him—then they relaxed. A bit.

Conrad said, “I can’t use balms like this, Mera. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I didn’t think it would matter.”

“Why can’t you use them?”

“I hate how the grease gets stuck in my fur, and I’ve never figured out how to get it out without getting it everywhere.”

“Oh, is that all?” I waved away his concern. “That’s not a problem, wolf-boy.” I held my hands up and wiggled my fingers. “I don’t have fur to get all greasy.”

“You’re saying—”

“I’m saying I’ll help you put it on. Free hand massages included with every jar.” I took the jar and opened it. “You want to try it out now? Then we can figure out if you like it or not.”

“You don’t mind?”

I took out a small glob and started warming it by rubbing it in my hands. “Not at all. Besides, I owe you.”

“For the training?”

“For helping me help Olivia pay me back. She’s ornery enough without feeling like she owes me. Now we can go back to annoying each other without worrying about it.”

“And you’re more comfortable that way?”

“Much more comfortable. Your paw please, sir.”

At first, all he did was watch me with his eyes narrowed and a slight smile hiding at the edge of his black lips. Then he lifted his palm toward me.

It turned out that he did like it, and it helped his hands enough, he let me reapply it every few days until Kappa found it and ate it.

[https://i.imgur.com/f011ZNa.jpg]

For information about the release of the next book in the series, see below in the post-chapter author notes.