Chapter Six | Protocol

Once the toast and coffee were gone, Warren abruptly announced, "Excuse me, I've got work to do," and left the kitchen. Alone and unsure of what to do with herself, Karou collected up their dishes and set them into the sink. With no dish soap or obvious cleaning utensils in sight, she gave up on that idea and wandered into the living room. Down the hall, she spotted her host; he'd dressed in fresh clothes and was making his bed. Recalling how precisely the sheets had been tucked and folded the night before caused her a little embarrassment; she'd left them in disarray.

Straightening the tie about his neck, Warren stopped by the front door and checked that it was locked, not-so-discreetly. Then, when passing, he said, "I'll be gone for maybe an hour," and shut himself away behind a door on the far side of the room.

The luxury of being left to her own devices was lost on her. Although it was better than being trapped in the Khoury's basement, this was still confinement. So, for some time, she stood gazing about the house, adrift from reality. How she had come to be in this place seemed like make-believe.

Twenty minutes were wasted scanning the titles and flicking through the books on the shelves surrounding the large, flatscreen TV. The factual, autobiographical, and historical titles didn't interest her. What caught her attention the most were his trinkets. A ceramic jug, a scented candle, and a plastic potted plant gave her very few clues to his personality. Did his living quarters truly have no personal touches? 

Stepping back from the bookcase, she spotted something that looked more promising. Although Karou had been scolded as a child for looking with her fingers, that had never dissuaded her curiosity; instead, she glanced over her shoulder before pulling a handful of vinyl record sleeves from the shelf to inspect the album covers. It was another bust. She only recognised two of the artists, and so she placed them back with a huff.   

Turning away from the bookcase, her eyes wandered around the living room. On the coffee table sat a black glass ashtray, similar in size to the coasters that accompanied it. Next to them, placed as if to tempt her, were a packet of cigarettes and a book of matches. Karou wasn't actually a smoker, but she had stolen a smoke or two from her mother throughout her adolescence—she stopped because she never noticed. Lighting up seemed like a good idea at the time, but the moment her mouth filled with the smoke of her first drag, she regretted her decision—she'd forgotten how rancid cigarettes tasted. Now, she was stuck with a barely smoked cigarette and a match to dispose of, and seeing that an ashy graveyard did not inhabit the ashtray, the lone stub would stand out. 

Karou was in the kitchen, washing the bitter taste out of her mouth, when she heard Warren's austere voice boom over the running water, inquiring where she was. Peeping around the corner and into the open plan lounge, she saw him waiting for her at the front door.

"Follow me," he instructed, holding it open for her. "And stay close."

When she asked where they were going, he reasoned that even if the amount of time she had to stay was undetermined, she should know her way around. When she'd noted that several other similar-looking buildings surrounded his home, he sternly commanded her to steer clear of the 'nocturnal quarters' and their residents. Warning her, "If you ever enter one of those units, you'll never come out."

While her new keeper led her around the labyrinthine corridors of the Compound, they inevitably found themselves back in the common room she'd briefly seen the evening before. Her eyes were drawn to the cosy Chesterfield sofas arranged before the open fireplace. Still, the way they lit up, captivated by the library, caused Warren to smile to himself secretly.

On their walkabout, they passed people of all sorts, and each stared at Karou. Some were so bold as to turn their heads to look longer. She wondered how obvious it was that she didn't belong there and that she was Mortal. Of course, she knew they weren't. They were Mythicals of every Western species—an eclectic community. Contrary to Karou's assumptions, Warren knew their attention was likely due to her being with him.

Warren eventually led Karou outside to tour the grounds. They bumped into one familiar face: the guard with the kind smile. Unlike the night before, he was dressed down because it was his day off, but what was the same was his smile. As they approached, he grinned at her, pleased to see that she'd made it through interrogation. Though, he couldn't help but be curious as to how she'd managed to survive.
Karou's curiosity about the lupine was equally piqued, and Warren noticed her head tip to one side—the bird-like movement seemed to be one of the girls' mannerisms. He also couldn't help but notice that the Lycan's eyes lingered on Karou's neck—he knew what he was looking for, and it irked him. Fortunately, Nate was in the company of the West Gate's head guard, which allowed them to pass by without being waylaid by chit-chat and pleasantries.

Though the pair laboured a little way behind Karou and the Overseer, they all headed towards a tumbled-down section of a dry stone wall that the cobbled path led through. It subsequently diminished into nothing more than a rough dirt track once they were past the rubble. Despite the Compound grounds, gardens, and courtyard being open to the sky, it was never far from Karou's mind that they were in the middle of the wilderness. Quickly, they were surrounded by trees. Trees of all genera circled the outer wall, standing as an extra layer of protection from the Mortal world's seeking eyes. Karou could've been excused for assuming that they were now beyond the wall, but Warren assured that, in the distance, it still enclosed them.

There was something nostalgic about being amidst the trees with him. Suddenly, she announced, "Uh—I'm Karou, by the way,".

"I know. I hadn't forgotten. You have such an unusual name," he assured and almost smiled, much like he had done the first time she introduced herself.

"You're... Mr. Howard, right?"

"Yes, that's right." He nodded. "Warren Howard. But you can just call me Warren." And once again, as he briefly met her eyes while they walked, his lips twitched as if he might grin, but he didn't. It was his eyes that harboured his smiles; they had returned to a stunning shade of blue that reminded her of the summer sky and all its calm vastness. 

Tucked between the maze of tree trunks and foliage, a building came into view. Karou watched the Lycan enter, and Warren explained that it was a tavern belonging to the community named The Brass Lantern. It was as quaint a building as its title, and just as the exterior promised, the interior wasn't of the present age either. It felt as though they'd stepped back in time. Karou was awestruck, taking everything in, but they hadn't been inside long when Warren was distracted by his cell phone ringing from his pocket. He answered it and immediately cussed under his breath.

"Tour's over. I have to take you back—"

"If duty calls Boss, I'll take care of her while you're gone." The Lycan, who hadn't been far in front, interjected.

Warren took a few moments to mull it over. While Karou looked between him and the Lycan, he looked between the Lycan and her.

"Alright. Behave yourself." He warned Karou, "And Nate, bring her back to me before curfew."  

As Karou watched Warren leave, the stinking feeling that overcame her stomach felt ill-placed, but she couldn't deny its presence. Fumbling with her fingers, she loitered in the lobby, cautious to enter the tavern through its inner double doors.

"Don't look so worried. I'm not half as scary as the Boss." The Lycan said, pushing open one of the doors to welcome her inside. "Would you like a drink?"

Karou stepped up to the threshold and said, "Uh, no, I think I'm okay, thanks. Actually, I just wanted to look around." Peering inside, she imagined she could come to feel comfortable there. The building had the kind of cosy vibe she appreciated, but she couldn't help feeling out of place while wearing the dirty clothes and soggy tennis shoes she'd arrived in.

"Well, would you like to go explore someplace else then?" Undeterred, the Lycan flashed her his kindest smile, which she eagerly returned.

With no money to pay for a drink anyway, what was the point of remaining in the public house? Exploring somewhere less crowded could help ease her self-consciousness, so she agreed; "Sure. That'd be great."

Back out, under the trees, Nate introduced himself and suggested they walk northward a little; there, he showed her the West Gate's delivery depot and where he lived in the Compound's 'alternative' living quarters—he lived with the Faefolk. He pointed out that the Lycan Village was just a little way further into the trees. Being that he was a Lycan, she wondered why he didn't live there, too, but figured she didn't know him well enough to ask yet.

They chit-chatted, sharing the usual introductory information, such as how old they were, where they were from, hobbies, musical tastes and the like. Nate was doing a good job steering himself away from the questions he was dying to ask, but Karou had noticed that every so often, he'd sniff her, however discrete he attempted to be. His eyes also kept finding their way back to her neck time and time again. Gradually, she began to wonder whether his friendly demeanour was genuine since his odd behaviour was a little off-putting.

Before long, they crossed a bridge over a stream that ran through the grounds. It returned them to the main building. Once again, the books in the library called out to her like a homing beacon. Wandering the aisles, she figured that if she was going to stay here, wherever here was, she might as well make the most of it and read as much as possible.

"There hasn't been a new arrival in about three years," Nate commented as he reached an arm over Karou's head to retrieve the book she was grasping for. As he placed it into her hands, he smiled toothlessly; he had such a friendly face and kind eyes. "No, Mort—One makes it through interrogation, 'especially not with the Boss..."

"You want to know how I—a Mortal—managed to then?"

Scratching the back of his neck, he shrugged and admitted, "Well... Yeah."

"I don't know. He didn't really interrogate me," Karou answered, lifting her shoulders in a shrug.

The growl from a grumbly, hungry tummy cut through the quiet pause between them. Karou's brows shot up in surprise, which quickly gave way to embarrassment as a flush rushed into her cheeks.

"Ha-ha. C'mon, it's about time I got you back anyway." They shared a chuckle, and then a new quest to take her back to the semi-underground apartment her host lived in began. "Say, he does eat, right?"