Maybe running away was cowardly of me. I know it was useless. You can’t outrun words you’ve already heard. Still, I crept back down the hall until I knew they wouldn’t hear me, and I ran.

I had suspected that Olivia didn’t like me, and if I was honest, I didn’t like her much either, but it hadn’t occurred to me that she hated me enough to want me gone. And why should they keep me? Because I had nowhere else to go. I was once again a tolerated object of pity. My whole life, people made room for me, even though they didn’t want me, because I had nowhere else to go. And now, my whole death was the same way.

You can’t run away from a stomachache either.

And Iset was right—I didn’t even have somewhere else I could run to! I crossed the whole mansion, trying to find some awful corner where no one would go. It was darker and colder away from the main rooms, so I went that way.

I dodged past the kitchen, where Igor was busy putting away the last of the dishes, and found a dank corner near the washroom. The only light came from the moon shining through a door that led to the outside. A mean breeze whistled through the door frame. It was a picture of misery that perfectly fit my mood.

I crashed to the floor, pulled my knees up to my chest, and leaned into the corner. Then I let myself cry.

I don’t like crying—I’m a tough girl, darn it!—but life had taught me that sometimes you have to cry when you’re alone or you run the horrible risk of crying in public. Pick your evil. With one, you feel stupid. With the other, you feel extra stupid and make everyone around you feel awkward.

Life had also taught me to sob quietly.

But not quietly enough.

About three minutes into my pity party, I heard a little voice call out from the open door of the washroom.

“Mera-mera?”

I looked up. Kappa was staring at me with the massive orbs that were his eyes. His webbed feet made soft padding sounds as he came up to me.

“Eee-mare-ah! Are you sad?”

I wiped my nose on my sleeve. “Yeah. I’m sad.”

He reached out and put a clammy hand on my cheek. “Water.” He licked his palm. “Salty.”

“Yup. I leak oceans when I’m sad, little guy.”

“Oh.”

He turned and left.

Yup. That’s about right, I thought with a sinking stomach.

But that wasn’t fair, and I knew it. I couldn’t apply the same expectation to Kappa that I could to a human.

Expectation? Hope?

Whatever it was, I knew I shouldn’t feel disappointed. If a human didn’t know how to react, why would someone like Kappa?

A minute later, he was back, cradling several objects in his arms. With his usual lack of grace, he pushed and pulled my limbs around until he could sit in my lap with his back to my chest. Once he was settled, he put something in my hand.

“What’s this?” I asked with a sniffle.

“A rock.”

“Yes, I can feel that.”

It was about the size of an orange. It had a rough texture but a nice round shape.

“Pretty rock.” He took that rock out of my hand and replaced it with another. It was smaller and smoother. “Color-FUL!”

I chuckled. “Very colorful.”

I wondered if he could see in the dark and if he knew that I couldn’t. All I could make out were a few different shades of gray.

He took that one away. The next rock was bigger. “My favorite.”

“It’s nice,” I told him.

“Rocks make me happy,” he said.

Oh.

Oh.

And I thought the honey butter had been sweet. If Kappa hadn’t been a bog-creature, I’d have kissed his head. As it was, I squeezed him until he made an oof sound.

“More rocks?” he asked when I left off the embrace.

“Kappa makes me happy.”

He got out of my lap and turned to face me. “Happy now?”

“Yes.”

He hit the ground twice with both webbed hands. Slap, slap. “Play now?”

I laughed. “Sure. What do you want to play?”

“Hide-and-seek!”

“Of course you do. No water!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Kappa,” I said warningly.

“No going under water. Stay in the house.” He gathered up his rocks. “Ready, go?”

I put my hands over my eyes. “Ready, go.”

I heard him pad away as I started counting.

Kappa was the kindest soul in the world, and it would be criminal if I didn’t feel at least a little bit better after he went through all that trouble to bring me his collection, but even a gesture like that could only dilute the pain. It was like adding sugar to lemonade. It made it sweeter, but it was still sour.

Maybe a bit of play would help me get my mind out of the rut.

After all, someone wanted me. If I was gone, who would play hide-and-seek with Kappa?

That thought was a little too bitter. I put it from my mind.

When my counting reached a hundred, I called out my standard warning, then got to my feet. My ears strained, listening for any hint of sound. Especially giggling.

Ten minutes later, I was searching through all the cupboards and shelves in the butler’s pantry. As my frustration level rose, all the emotions I was repressing rose with it. I slapped the last two cupboard doors shut and sat back against the island with a grunt.

“What are you doing?”

My heart ricocheted around my rib cage like a rogue bouncy ball. When it settled down, I looked up at the colossal figure standing in the door.

“I-I’m sorry.” I stood up. “Am I not supposed to be here?”

The wolfman stepped into the pantry. “That’s not what I said. I asked what you were doing.”

I tried to ignore the menace that pressed in as he approached. I flipped my hand out to motion to the room. “I’m looking for Kappa.”

“Is he lost?”

“We’re playing hide-and-seek. I thought I heard a noise from in here, but I can’t find him.”

As Conrad turned his head to glance around the room, I noticed the edge of his black lips were lifted. He took a step closer to me. “You taught him to play hide-and-seek?”

Was he laughing at me?

“He likes it!” Maybe I sounded a bit defensive. I added in a grumble, “God knows, he’s gotten good at it.”

Conrad took another step closer. It took every ounce of self-control I had not to step back or wince when he leaned over, but there was nothing I could do about my trembling.

His muzzle—his fangs—were right by my ear when he muttered under his breath, “He’s under the rug.”

The sense of doom waned as the wolfman turned and left the room.

After one or two breaths, my head cleared enough for me to understand what he’d said. I looked down. Under my feet was an ornate fuchsia rug. I picked up a corner and flipped it back.

There was a trap door.

“How did you do that, you little beast?”

I grabbed the sunken ring and lifted. Kappa was sitting at the bottom of the tight spiral stairs with both webbed hands clapped over his mouth. His eyes widened when he saw me.

“Found you,” I said.

“Eep!”

I jumped down the stairs. “Ha! Eep is right!” I picked him up and squeezed him to my chest. Then I looked around. “Where are we?”

“No water. All wine.”

As my eyes adjusted, I could see what he meant. The room had a low ceiling, but the long walls faded off into the darkness. Along both walls were a series of tall shelves. Each shelf was full of bottles.

“It’s a wine cellar,” I said.

“No water.”

“How big is it?”

“Don’t know.”

“Shall we go exploring?”

Kappa didn’t bother hiding his contempt. “It’s wine.”

“Maybe we’ll find some rocks.” I pulled out my cell phone and switched on the light.

Kappa reached up and took my hand.

We set off together. It wasn’t long before the shelves of wine ended, but the room—the tunnel—went on. We passed several doors. They were five feet tall and made of heavy wood fixed tightly into the thick stone walls. Each one had an iron handle with a latch. Most of the latches wouldn’t budge. The one time I could press one down, a sudden flash of nerves kept me from opening the door.

I knew I was probably being ridiculous, but I let the handle go and stepped away. I could always come back later. With a better flashlight. And maybe a handy vampire.

Eventually, we came to a place where a side hall broke away.

“All right, little guy,” I said to Kappa, “Do we keep going straight? Or do we turn?”

Kappa didn’t answer.

I looked down. He was still holding my hand, but his grip had weakened, and his whole body was slumped over.

“Kappa?”

“I’m cold.”

It had been chilly where we entered. Out this far, the cold was strong enough to bite through my clothes.

“Yeah,” I said. “It’s getting nippy. Do you want to head back?”

There was another long pause before Kappa repeated, “I’m cold.”

“Buddy?”

“Can we sleep?”

Was Kappa cold blooded? He certainly seemed to be struggling in the low temperature.

I squatted down in front of him. “Come on, little guy. Let’s get you back where it’s warm. Grab onto my neck.”

Kappa climbed onto my back. I stood up, hoisted him higher, then started back. I held my phone out as a flashlight and used my other arm to support Kappa’s weight.

By the time I reached the stairs, his hold on my neck was failing. I sat down so he could dismount, then I turned around and picked him up like he was a big, slimy toddler. He hummed as he curled up against my chest, and he was asleep before I finished crawling out the trap door.

After I had replaced the door and kicked the rug into place, I tried to figure out what to do. I loved Kappa as much as anyone, but I wasn’t excited about the idea of having him sleep in my bed. My shirt was already soaked from carrying him.

I sighed, re-hoisted my unconscious friend, and set out for the library in search of Iset.

As I passed the TV room, I saw the light on and hesitated. My arms were starting to ache, and someone was in there. Maybe I could ask them for help.

When I edged closer to the door and peeked around the corner, I saw a pair of tall, furry ears.

I leaned back against the wall.

It was the wolfman. Of course, it was the wolfman.

As I stood there, my arms moaning from the effort of holding Kappa, my emotions ran through a quick debate. On one hand, the wolfman was huge, imposing, taciturn, and he had really big teeth. On the other hand…he had told me where Kappa was hiding.

I took a deep breath, swallowed the lump of fear in my throat, and turned into the room. I must have looked like one of those cops you see in the movies, gun drawn, rolling into the room where they know the bad guy is waiting to jump them.

I don’t know how Conrad knew I was there, but he was already watching the door.

“C-conrad,” I stuttered, “do you know where Kappa’s bed is?”

“Is he asleep?”

“Yeah.”

The wolfman rose from the couch. He crossed the short distance between us, growing more enormous with every step, then gazed down at the creature nestled against my chest.

“Cute,” he said.

I blinked once or twice and looked down at Kappa. All curled up like that, he was pretty adorable.

Conrad tossed his head. “This way.”

We passed the dining room and turned down the hall. Conrad stopped at the door to the washroom. He pointed to one of the antique tables, doomed to forever carry the weight of a heavy porcelain basin.

“He made his nest under there.”

“A nest?”

“He prefers it. It’s secluded, safe, and has easy access to water.” Conrad looked at me. “You’ll know it when you see it.”

The wolfman was right. Under the table was a pile of rags and cloth, torn into strips and woven into something that looked like a dog bed. On the table stretcher behind it, I could see a few shadows, and I recognized Kappa’s precious collection.

Once I had him tucked in, I picked up one of the rocks and put it beside him. He glommed onto it, pulling it close.

I thought it was a tad firm to be a teddy bear, but as Ms. Elstein would say, it takes all kinds to make a world.

I backed out so I wouldn’t knock my head on the table as I stood up.

Conrad was waiting outside the door, watching me.

“What?” I said. “You don’t like water or something?”

It was a pretty feeble attempt to tease him, but I was willing to try anything, no matter how feeble, to dispel the discomfort that came from seeing his yellow eyes following me.

The wolfman jammed his hands in his pockets and looked away. “This is Kappa’s territory. I try to stay out of it.”

As we walked back toward the main rooms, my curiosity started nipping at me. Eventually, it was annoying enough to drown out my reverence for all beings large enough to squash me like a bug.

“Conrad, do you like Kappa?”

“Yeah.” The two mountains of his shoulders shifted in a shrug. “I’d be surprised if someone didn’t like Kappa.”

I smiled. “Does Darius like him?”

“Darius likes him from a distance. Kappa is very affectionate and very moist.”

“Oh, crap.” I looked down at my shirt—the shirt I had borrowed from Olivia. Who already didn’t like me.

“Don’t worry. It’s mostly water,”

“Mostly water?”

“You know how human sweat is mostly water with a bit of salt?”

I nodded and tried not to note how easy it was for him to say “human sweat.”

“His is mostly water with a bit of something like sunscreen. It protects his skin. And it washes right out.”

“Good.” Once I knew the fate of the shirt looked promising, my mind turned back to Kappa’s peculiarities. “But he’s always wet.”

Conrad’s muzzle dipped in a nod. “He secretes it whenever he’s out of water. It keeps him from drying up.”

“That sounds like it would take a lot of water.”

“Not as much as you’d think, but we do have to make sure he doesn’t get dehydrated.”

“How do you know all this?”

“Iset.”

That wasn’t quite the answer I was looking for. It was more like I wanted to know why Conrad knew all that, but his answer had been so simple and final, I felt obliged to leave it alone.

“Conrad,” I said after I had dredged up some more courage, “if you don’t mind Kappa, how come you won’t go into his room?”

“He’s afraid of me.”

I was surprised by how casually Conrad announced this fact. “Is there a reason why?”

The wolfman stopped and turned. “I suspect it’s because I’m big.”

I had to bite my lip so I wouldn’t let out a nervous giggle. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Some people find that intimidating.”

“No doubt they’re lower life forms, incapable of higher reasoning.”

A huff of air escaped him. It sounded exactly like a doggy laugh.

“No doubt.” He turned and continued walking.

I trailed along. “Hey, uh, thank you for your help tonight.”

He buried his hands in the pockets of his jeans again. A second or two later, I heard a quiet growl that might have also been the phrase “you’re welcome.”

By then we had reached the front hall. He left to go back to the TV room. I meandered over to the stairs while keeping my eyes on the wolfman’s retreating back.

Okay. Shy. Maybe I could see that.

Any more deep character analysis of my local monsters would have to wait. I needed sleep. I was so tired, not even my insomnia would be able to keep me awake that night.

I was right. It wasn’t the insomnia. It was the nightmares.

I kept waking up in a panic, the sound of a gunshot ringing in my ears, but no matter how many times I checked myself in the mirror, there was never any blood.