She was delighted by that human professor, charming, slim and tall, at once open and attentive.

«Were you born a lycanthrope?» Seraphin asked, intrigued

«Is it that obvious?»

«I was just guessing. It seems very natural for you, and it's nice to see. It suits you»

«Thanks! Do you have lycan relatives?»

«Not that I know of»

«I think you have the genetics»

«Is it the body hair?»

«I didn't see any hair»

«I was rolling up my sleeves before, they're showing a bit»

«No! Maybe, I mean, yes. Also. It’s your bones, I can't explain it very well. I think you'd make a great lycanthrope»

«You say so? Thanks! Too bad there's no one I can turn to to get me transformed...»

«Where do you want the bite?» she replied playfully.

They explored several corridors of the ship, which with time and someone to chat with, seemed a little less austere to Seraphin. Near the entrance to one of the kitchens, the lycanthrope stopped suddenly.

«There's a foreign trace» Lovell said, frowning.

«Foreign?»

«It's... uncanny, but only slightly»

«Is it a vampire?»

«No, it's not a vampire. It's human-like»

«But something's wrong»

«It's like it's human... but not quite. Can I smell you?»

«Can't you smell me from there?» Seraphin replied, but he lifted his sleeve, revealing his slender arm, dark hair, lightly sun-kissed skin, and held it out toward Lovell. There was something fragile and physical about his presence, making the lycan want to press her fangs against his skin.

«Yes, but I can focus on smelling it from the source. To understand how, uh, what a normal one smells like, where does the other differ»

«A control sample»

«Yes. A control sample» She leaned her face in for a light sniff, her warm breath tickling his skin. «Smells like you've been rolling in a field of flowers» The lycanthrope said, and Seraphin laughed.

Yes, that was a good, normal smell. The other one was…

«Strange» Lovell confirmed «And it’s a fresh scent».

Seraphin felt goosebumps. Was it that thing? The fish?

«What kind of smell?» He asked, twisting his hands together, picking at his nail cuticles «Does it smell like… like the sea?»

Lovell looked at him questioningly, wrinkling his nose.

«You smell it too, don’t you?» She asked.

«N… no? I mean, we’re near the sea, it might smell like the sea. I think»

«You smell like fear».

Seraphin smiled nervously. Every now and then he looked down at the ground, as if he could see the trail left by the monster, as if it were a giant sea slug leaving behind a trail of wave-scented slime with its sinuous, silvery body.

«But it could also be a nearly normal human» Lovell reassured him, sensing his growing fear. «Some humans smell slightly different from others, especially those who have lived in a fairy court for a long time, or who have some magical ancestry. Dragonbloods, for example, smell completely different from you»

«And... could it be a dragonblood?» Seraphin inquired.

«Um, no» Lovell replied, almost embarrassed at having suggested it. «It doesn't smell like a dragonblood at all»

«So... it's...»

«I don't know. At the academy, they teach us to distinguish the scents of demihumans, but I don't know this one»

«Is… that so?».

Seraphin looked at his feet, squinting. His head was crowded with images: the feeling of the water pressing against his wetsuit, the dim light cutting through the gray waves, the silvery body like a ribbon in the darkness of the water, and then the hand, that hand, with its thick, nailless fingers, the hand, the hand...

«Are you alright?» Lovell inquired. «Can I help you in any way?»

«Everything's okay» Seraphin lied «I was just thinking about something»

«You... smell of fear. I told you»

«Hm. I heard it»

«There's no need to be afraid, the chances of this person being dangerous are low. Don't worry»

«Alright».

Lovell straightened, looking back, her nostrils flaring. Seraphin jumped, squeaking: «What's going on?».

The lycanthrope laughed, gently taking Seraphin's wrist with her warm, strong hand, to calm him.

«Don't worry, Professor, it's just that someone's coming» she said.

«'Just'?» Seraphin chuckled nervously «Who is it?»

«I don't know»

«Don't you have... don't you have an amazing sense of smell? Maybe I'm asking a little too much...» he chuckled again «...Of course, I should have thought about it. You can't tell who's approaching just by smell, you're not a molecular dog, eh…»

«Actually, I can».

Seraphin pressed his lips together, and a thick silence fell. They had even stopped walking.

«Can you?» the researcher asked, his voice low.

«Yes»

«What can you... figure out...»

«The sex. The size. The age, very often»

«And this person is...»

«I don't know».

Seraphin stepped back, hearing the clatter of footsteps, made by hard, solid, heavy soles. He noticed that the rhythm wasn't regular, that the right and left didn't alternate with the same delay, as if the person walking didn't know how to use their legs.

«Oh, that's who he is» Lovell said «I've only seen him in photos».

Huge, dressed in black and gray like a thunderstorm, Sangreal was approaching them. He looked grim, his eyes cold.

Seraphin thought that if the man had wanted to strangle him, he could have done so easily. And then there was his inhuman smell, his uneven gait, the bizarre way he carried himself.

«What are you?» He asked, in cold sweat.

Sangreal stopped a meter away from him, hiding his hands behind his back.

«Apparently, a monster» He replied.