Victor had never laid in such a luxurious bed in all his life. He could tell, just by touching the comforter, that it was made from the most expensive fabric money could buy. Even though Nicholas had described Victor's new room as a guest bedroom, it was finely decorated and fully furnished. There was even a stone balcony that overlooked the expansive forest surrounding the humble little town of Still Water. 

Despite how unusual his day had been, Victor felt happier than he had in a long time. His body was clean, and his stomach was full, and that’s all he really needed to be happy. There was only one thing that bothered him from his first day at The Castle, and that was what Nicholas had said to him when they had parted for the night. Nicholas had stood in the doorway, ensuring that Victor was satisfied with the room and needed nothing else before bed. And after Victor had told him that he was more than satisfied and extremely grateful, his host’s face had suddenly turned stern. 

“Victor,” he had said. “I grant you all the freedom you could ever want. Do as you please here. Speak to me however you like and cast formality aside, for I hope we can be friends more than just colleagues. But in return, I only ask one thing: do not leave this room at night, no matter what may beckon you to do so.”

 Victor longed to sneak through the dark halls and discover their secrets, but since Nicholas had been so kind to him and had asked so little, he held back his curiosity for the time being. Sleep came easy, and the night slipped away from him like a passing dream. Soon enough, the morning sunlight crept along the floor and into his bed, shining onto his face. He changed out of the silk pajamas Nicholas had given him and back into his regular attire. When he stepped out of his room, he was nearly knocked over by a maid rushing down the hall. As he stumbled backward to avoid a collision, he accidentally walked into someone. He turned and found Nicholas staring back at him. 

“Good morning,” Victor said.

“Did you sleep well?” Nicholas asked as they walked together down the hallway. 

“Very well, thank you,” Victor said politely. He peered back at the skeleton maid, who turned and dashed down the stairway. “They’re not illusions, are they? Like the manor’s decay?” he asked. 

“No, they’re all real,” Nicholas said. “I dabble in a bit of necromancy. A few years back, I went to the Still Water graveyard and asked if any of them would like to come to work for me instead of lying in their graves with nothing to do.” Victor gave Nicholas a troubled look. “Oh, don’t judge me so quickly. They all came willingly, and those who wished to stay dead remained so. Besides, I give them dental, and they get weekends off.”

Now, yet again, the impossible was becoming possible. Nicholas’s magic wasn’t just party tricks and illusions as Victor had once thought. He felt his stomach churn uneasily and placed his hand over it. Nicholas took notice and gave him a reassuring look, touching his shoulder. 

“How about we grab some breakfast and then get to work?” Nicholas asked. 

Victor nodded, and moments later, he was sipping some tea in the library. He was sitting in one of the armchairs by the hearth, sharing a table with Nicholas, who sat beside him. There was a platter of eggs, bacon, and toast, all of which Nicholas refused to touch. 

“Breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” Victor said between sips.

“I’m not very hungry–ate too much for dinner.” Nicholas laughed, petting his stomach. 

Just then, the doorbell rang, a low, menacing jingle that shook the whole manor. 

“That must be our client,” Nicholas said, standing.

Hurriedly, Victor finished the last of his tea and followed Nicholas to the front door. Before answering, Nicholas adjusted his vest and tie, combing back his hair with his fingers. He swung open the large wooden door to find a woman standing behind it. She was incredibly tall, with a sturdy build and hairy limbs. Freckles were sprinkled across her face and down her neck. She had a scar sliced over her nose and a snaggletooth that peeked up over her bottom lip.

“Ah, Lyall, my dear friend, how nice to see you,” Nicholas said. 

The woman looked human, but a pair of pointed wolf’s ears stuck up from her ginger hair, and a similarly orange tail sprouted out from her spine. 

“Nick,” she said, with a big toothy grin. “Finally found that assistant you were looking for, eh?”

“It’s his first day,” Nicholas said. 

Victor did a polite little nod to Lyall, who did the same. 

“Are you a werewolf?” he asked curiously.

“ I am. And proud to be one,” Lyall said. 

“So, what is it that you need to be done?” Nicholas asked Lyall. 

“It’s Dolph,” Lyall explained, sighing. “I don’t know what’s happened to him. A few days ago, he transformed with us during the full moon, but now he can’t change back. Not only that, but he’s also turned savage. He slaughtered most of Still Water’s livestock, and now the farmers want to come after the pack.”

“Does that mean the townspeople know what you are?” Victor asked. 

“No, but we’d like to keep it that way. They think we’re just regular bothersome wolves.” Lyall explained. “But since Dolph ate most of their sheep, they’re starting to set traps in the woods. We’re scared Dolph will go and get himself hurt if he doesn’t stop this rampage.”

“My job is to ensure every creature and cryptid in Still Water is satisfied with my service. However, a part of that responsibility is also ensuring that the townspeople don’t learn the truth about their magical neighbors. Such revelations could lead to chaos for both parties.” Nicholas explained to Victor. “We’ll ensure that Dolph is returned to you safely,” he added, turning back to Lyall.

“Thank you.” Lyall sighed with relief. “We know we can always count on you, Nick.”

“Why don’t you show us the last place you saw him?” Nicholas asked, taking his coat and tophat off the rack by the door. 

Lyall nodded and led them both into the forest. Though there was no trail to guide her, she walked confidently through the thicket, familiar with every tree she passed by. Eventually, they came across a clearing surrounded by a ring of flower bushes.

“We come here during the full moon to transform,” Lyall explained. "We’re not able to keep our bodies from transforming, but we still retain our sanity when we do. But for whatever reason, when Dolph transformed, he suddenly became violent and unreasonable.”

Victor watched as Nicholas inspected the clearing, walking around its perimeter with a sly smile. He knelt in the grass, picking up a clump of flower petals. “Lyall, it’s tradition to weave flowers before a transformation in your pack, is it not?” he asked. 

“Why, yes, it is,” Lyall said. “It’s a bonding ritual we have–helps keep us calm.”

“What do you usually use? Daisies, dandelions, hemlock–?” Nicholas listed. 

“Typically, yes. But last month, during a trip into town, Dolph came across a wandering merchant selling exotic wares. There was a beautiful bouquet that he bought for last week’s transformation.” Lyall explained. 

“What did it look like?” Nicholas asked, standing. 

“They were pretty pink and white flowers that drooped down like church bells,” Lyall said, thinking. 

“What your friend purchased was an angel’s trumpet flower,” Nicholas explained. “They’re not native to here, so he must not have known about their side effects.”

“Side effects?” Lyall inquired anxiously. 

“They’re known to cause fever, delirium, hallucinations, and in some cases…death,” Nicholas explained. “For a human, just wearing the flowers wouldn’t cause much harm, but to a werewolf, the flower’s hypnotic scent must be overwhelming. I’m afraid your friend is stuck in a fever dream.”

“D-Death?” Lyall repeated, her ears turning back. 

“Worry not; werewolves are strong, both in body and mind. But we should act fast before he takes in too much of the flower’s scent.” Nicholas said. “We’ll have to track him down and remove the lei around his neck; that should snap Dolph out of his spell.”

“I have a strong sense of smell, so I can help track him–” Lyall began. 

“I’m afraid your sense of smell is precisely the reason we cannot bring you along. If you were to get a whiff of the angel’s trumpet flowers, then we might have two savage werewolves to deal with,” Nicholas explained. “Besides, you are my client. It’s my responsibility to get the job done, not yours.”

“Just…bring him back to us safe and sound,” Lyall said anxiously. 

Nicholas tipped his hat, walking through the bushes with Victor trailing close behind. They went down the hillside toward Still Water’s lush countryside. As they walked, Victor watched the leaves blowing in the wind, gathering into piles on the forest floor. It smelled of Autumn, of damp earth, and a ripe harvest. At the base of the hill was a pen of sheep with a farmhouse sitting off in the distance. 

“Is Dolph here?” Victor asked softly. He and Nicholas were standing at the edge of the forest, watching the sheep graze. 

“No, but he will be,” Nicholas said. “This is one of the only farms he hasn’t ransacked yet.”

Suddenly, the wind seemed to change directions. The sheep began baaing pitifully and gathering into a circle at the center of their pen. An enormous gray wolf burst from the thicket, its limbs elongated and its hands eerily human. The angel’s trumpets hung from its neck, artistically woven together into tight locks. At first, the werewolf began to creep toward the sheep, but then it stopped and sniffed at the air. It turned toward Victor and Nicholas back in the thicket, its mouth watering. 

“Well? Are you going to use your magic?” Victor asked, calm despite the circumstances. 

“No, I will be nothing but a bystander, I’m afraid,” Nicholas said with a smirk, handing Victor a silver dagger with a golden handle. “This is a test to see if you’re truly fit to be my assistant. And remember, our client must not be harmed.”

Victor stared at his reflection within the blade of the dagger and then turned it to the side, holding it defensively out in front of himself.