Epilogue

A fter the curse was broken for all Beastly Falls...

Jenny fidgeted in the uncomfortable plastic chair, acutely aware of the three pairs of eyes scrutinizing her from across the table. The TV studio's harsh lighting made her feel like she was under interrogation rather than in a job interview.

"So, Jenny," the lead producer said, leaning forward with a predatory smile, "tell us why you'd be perfect for 'Grease Monkey Mayhem.'"

Jenny took a deep breath, channeling her inner Rook for a touch of centuries-old confidence. "Well, I'm passionate about cars, I work well under pressure, and I'm always up for a challenge."

The producers exchanged glances, their expressions unreadable.

"And drama?" another producer prompted. "How do you handle conflict?"

Jenny blinked. "I... try to resolve it calmly and efficiently?"

More glances were exchanged, this time accompanied by slight frowns.

"I see," the lead producer said, his tone decidedly less enthusiastic. "And if a coworker sabotaged your project?"

"I'd report it to HR and—" Jenny stopped, suddenly realizing what they were looking for. "I mean, I'd throw a wrench at them and call them a rusty lug nut?"

The weak attempt at drama fell flat. The producers' disappointed sighs told Jenny everything she needed to know.

Fifteen minutes later, Jenny walked out of the studio, a strange mix of emotions swirling in her chest. She'd dreamed of this opportunity for so long, and yet...

As she climbed into her beloved VW Beetle, Jenny's phone chimed with a text from Rook:

"How'd it go, my gear-grinding goddess? Knock their socks off?"

Jenny smiled, warmth spreading through her at the silly endearment. She typed back:

"More like knocked myself out of the running. Turns out I'm too 'well-adjusted' for reality TV. Heading home now."

Home. The word resonated in a way it never had before. With sudden clarity, Jenny realized she wasn't disappointed about the interview. She was relieved.

Her phone chimed again:

"Their loss is Beastly Falls' gain. Drive safe, love. I'll have a cup of your favorite waiting."

Jenny's smile widened as she started the engine. She had a long drive ahead, but for once, she couldn't wait to get back to her small, supernaturally strange town.

SIX MONTHS LATER

The sound of metal clanging against metal filled the air, punctuated by the occasional rev of an engine or burst of laughter. Jenny slid out from under a cherry-red 1957 Chevy, which would have been a classic if not for the fact that it ran on unicorn tears instead of gasoline.

"All right, Mrs. Hollowbrook," Jenny called out to the vampire matron waiting nearby. "Try it now."

The engine roared to life, purring with ethereal smoothness. Mrs. Hollowbrook clapped her hands in delight.

"Oh, marvelous. I was worried I'd have to trade her in for one of those dreadful modern contraptions."

Jenny grinned, wiping her hands on a rag. "Not on my watch. This beauty's got at least another century in her."

As Mrs. Hollowbrook drove off, Jenny took a moment to survey her domain. "Cortado's Supernatural Speedshop" read the sign above the garage doors. Inside, an eclectic mix of vehicles waited for her attention—everything from a pixie-sized scooter to a troll's reinforced pickup truck.

The bell above the door chimed, and Jenny turned to see Rook entering, a steaming mug in each hand.

"Thought you could use a pick-me-up," he said, offering her a mug of what smelled like his latest tea creation.

Jenny accepted it gratefully, breathing in the aromatic steam. "Mmmm, is that a hint of dragon's breath I detect?"

Rook's eyes twinkled. "Just a touch. Gives it a nice smoky flavor, don't you think?"

They sipped their tea in comfortable silence, enjoying the moment of quiet togetherness. Through the open garage doors, Jenny could see Rook's tea shop next door, its windows glowing warmly in the twilight.

"Oh," Rook said suddenly, "I spoke with the wedding planner today. She assures me she can source enough glow-worms to light the entire ceremony."

Jenny chuckled. "A nighttime outdoor wedding lit by magical insects. If someone had told me when I was a kid that this would be my life..."

"Having second thoughts?" Rook asked, a hint of worry creeping into his voice.

Jenny set down her mug and wrapped her arms around him. "Not a chance, vampire-mine. This is better than any dream I could have cooked up on my own."

Rook relaxed into her embrace, nuzzling her neck affectionately. Jenny felt a pleasant tingle where his fangs grazed her skin—a reminder of their unbreakable bond.

"I'm glad," Rook said. "Though I do worry sometimes that you miss the excitement of the outside world."

Jenny pulled back to look him in the eye. "Are you kidding? Just yesterday I had to recalibrate a werewolf's transmission so it wouldn't slip during full moons. Trust me, there's more than enough excitement right here."

As if to prove her point, a harried-looking fairy zipped into the garage, trailing sparkles and smoke.

"Jenny! Emergency! My flying car's wings keep molting!"

"Duty calls," Jenny said with a grin, pressing a quick kiss to Rook's cheek before turning to her newest client. "All right, let's take a look at those wings..."

Later that evening, as the garage quieted and the last customer drove (or flew) away, Jenny decided it was time for Rook's latest lesson.

"Okay, honey," she said, leading him to a beat-up old junker she kept for practice. "Today we're going to learn how to change the oil."

Rook eyed the car warily. "Are you sure that's wise? You remember what happened with the tire rotation..."

Jenny laughed at the memory. "Hey, no one got hurt. Much. Besides, you can't be a proper auto shop spouse without knowing the basics."

With exaggerated care, Rook accepted the wrench Jenny handed him. "Very well. I place myself in your capable hands."

What followed was a comedy of errors that would have put any slapstick routine to shame. Rook managed to get oil everywhere except where it was supposed to go, turning himself into a slippery, grease-covered mess in the process.

"I think," he said, peering at Jenny through oil-smeared glasses, "that I may not be cut out for mechanical work."

Jenny, who hadn't fared much better in her attempts to help, burst out laughing. "Maybe not. But you sure know how to make it entertaining."

She pulled him close, not caring about the mess, and kissed him soundly. When they parted, Jenny had a greasy smudge on her cheek to match Rook's.

"What do you say we close up shop and head home?" Jenny suggested, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "I think we both need a long, hot shower."

Rook's answering grin was positively wicked. "I do believe that's the best idea you've had all day, my love."

As they locked up the garage, Jenny looked out at the twinkling lights of Beastly Falls. The town had changed since the curse broke—people could come and go freely now—but it had lost none of its magic.

"Hey Rook?" she said as they walked hand-in-hand down the street.

"Yes, darling?"

"I'm really glad my car broke down here."

Rook squeezed her hand. "As am I, my dear. As am I."

They continued on, two imperfect, oil-stained figures silhouetted against the starry sky. And if you looked closely, you might just see the faint shimmer of magic that connected them—a bond forged in love, strengthened by choice, and destined to last for eternity.