Chapter Twenty-Nine | Morbid Machinations

Finally, Karou was asleep. Warren stepped into her room like a shadow and pulled back the sheets to gather her sleeping form into his arms. She grumbled quietly, but it pleased him how she instinctively leaned into his chest and wound her arms about his neck. Securely in his arms, he carried her into his room and laid her down on his bed. In her sleep, she was pliable and slipped from his grasp without waking. Behind her, he shuffled under the sheets, slid his arm under her pillow and nestled the crown of her head under his chin. She wasn't quite close enough yet, though, so he manoeuvred her with his other arm and placed her hips against his so he could curl his thighs beneath hers. Warren had never been one to instigate moments like this, and truthfully, he hadn't laid in bed with a woman he wasn't currently involved with since he'd been engaged to Camille. He and Ellis didn't lie and hold each other. Cuddling certainly wasn't on the cards during any of his purchased liaisons. So, he figured he was overdue some traditional affection. Though it was extraordinarily rare for him to crave it, when he did, he usually had no other option than to put such thoughts aside and throw himself into work before cursed loneliness crept up on him. Karou's presence in his life had turned everything he took for granted upside down, but with his nose nuzzled into her soft hair and her scent filling each of his breaths, he struggled to imagine a more pleasant way to fall asleep. How her petite body fit against his so naturally, blissfully was comforting.

Hours passed like that until Warren had to turn over to switch off his alarm. Karou roused slightly when he moved but caught the beeps just in time. Sprawled on his back, Karou rolled over and curled herself into his side; it surprised him, but ultimately, he relaxed. Sleep wasn't likely to return, yet he was content to lay there. One of her dainty hands spanned over his chest, and he gently held her wrist, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. Karou would wake up eventually; he just hoped she wouldn't react badly when she realised where she was.

Thirty minutes later, Karou moaned into wakefulness and nuzzled her face into his t-shirt as she came to. With bated breath, Warren waited for her reaction. "Mmm, what happened?" she murmured.

"I… had you sleep in my bed... with me."

"Why'd you do that?" taking her hand from his chest, she rubbed over her eyes and propped herself up on her elbow. She remained tucked into his side, though, and looked down at his face with an adorably confused expression, but at least she was calm.

"I don't have a reason," he lied, "I just wanted you to."

"So, you brought me in here, and we just slept?"

"Yes," he chuckled uneasily, "as easy as it would've been to do unspeakable things while you were sleeping, I didn't."

"Hmm, the way you said that makes you sound suspicious... but I believe you," Karou looked around at their current position and gnawed at her lip. Seeing as he wasn't fighting to get away or insisting she leave quickly, she laid her head back down onto his chest and her hand too. "Can we talk?"

"That means you have something you want to talk about..."

"Yeah, I have a few things I want to say. Questions I want to ask."

"Please tell me its not about what I think it is?" Warren rubbed over his face.

"You can't keep blowing me off," Karou took a deep breath before she continued, "But first, I wanted to say I'm sorry for causing problems for you and how I might've ruined your birthday. I… wanted to ask if anything like what happened that night might… happen again?" gauging Warren's stunned silence, Karou thought she'd better add her expectations. "I… I know the answer is probably no, but I just need to hear you say it."

"Karou, you're not the problem. Ellis and I are to blame. I put you in a compromising position because my selfishness, and she took it as badly as she could have. I saw it coming and carried on regardless. Mistakes have already been made already. I... have some choices to make, but I just need more time."

"While you're making up your mind then, do you think you could make some more 'mistakes'?" boldly, Karou lifted her head to look at him directly; she looked hopeful when she posed her request.

"You ask for things I'm not sure I should be giving you."

"But I don't want them from anyone else."

"Karou…" his brow and lips turned downward, discomforted by her confession. "My options are sparse. Neither are pretty. Karou, this doesn't end well for you," he shook his head.

"What're your choices?"

"To give into you and sire you or..." Warren stalled, he wished he didn't have to say it, but he closed his eyes and bravely spoke the second option into reality, "put you out of your misery."

Karou flinched, how bluntly he stated his choices was jarring. For a moment, she wondered where the option to stay there, as a Mortal, until the war was over had gone, but as she didn't really want that either, it didn't matter that he'd made up his mind that those were the only two options.

"Well, the first isn't likely, but that's okay; you've already told me to find someon—"

"No one here will entertain you. I've already made sure of that. I've been pulling strings behind your back for months, taking your choices away from you before you'd fully set your heart on them. I know that's manipulative, but I'm not sorry, I won't let you choose Vampirism."

✷✷✷

Loyal eyes surveyed every corner of the Compound through an employee or lens to keep watch over his ward. He had been discontented to discover that a dark shadow had been lurking at the outer edge of Karou's social circle, gradually drawing nearer—a shadow in the form of one Richard Abbott.

On an afternoon not too dissimilar to any of his others, he sat watching security footage from The Brass Lantern. A brawl had erupted the evening before, and although all the offenders were locked up, the instigator of the quarrel had yet to be identified. Warren observed who threw the first punch. He was about to close the case when something caught his eye on the other side of the tavern's bar. Karou and her friends were gathered around two tables; all the regular members were present, but to Karou's left stood someone he was vexed to see. The two appeared engaged in conversation; their lips moved, though there was no audio feed on the footage. Gripping the edge of his desk with white knuckles, Warren tried to remain composed even as he watched Richard place his hand on Karou's shoulder and lean closer to her.

"Karou, what are you doing?" he asked aloud, despite being alone in his office. Fast-forwarding through the remaining footage of the evening, he kept a keen eye on who interacted with her. Richard returned to her side several times, each time appearing friendlier and closer than before. "Damnit," he growled, slamming his fist down onto the surface of his desk.

Karou noticed that he had been gloomier and more brooding than usual that evening. He barely looked away from the coffee table once and in her direction. The hollowness behind his eyes kept her silent for the duration of the film that played. When she bid him goodnight, he returned the gesture but still didn't meet her gaze. Instead, he stubbed out his cigarette in the black-glass ashtray and retreated to the seclusion of his office. Karou assumed he had gone to feed before bed and hoped it would lighten the frightening abyss that had taken hold of his eyes.

As she lay sleeping, Warren exited their unit and stepped into the rain-streaked courtyard that spanned between his and the other nocturnal quarters. Standing in the doorway of Unit Five's stairwell, he centred himself, kneading his fingertips into his palm, aware that it would be challenging not to lose his temper.

He knocked on the door, and when it opened, it gasped and gave way. Richard's bronzed gaze met Warren's cold, sharp eyes as the rain disturbed his hair and trickled off his brow and nose.

"Good evening, Mr. Overseer; I wasn't expecting you."

"Were you expecting someone?"

"As a matter of fact, no, not tonig—"

"Then you won't mind if I come in," Warren insisted, pressing his palm into the door, ready to use force if necessary. Upon entering the unit that, for all intents and purposes, was a twin to his own, he took a great lung full of air and assessed its scents—there was no one else there besides the two of them, and he also couldn't sense anything lingering notes of Karou's unique and pungent sweetness. That somewhat settled his mind.

"I'm not dressed for company," Richard explained, vaguely gesturing to his state of undress. His robe hung loosely wrapped over his bear-like chest.

Considering the type of company you keep, I reckon you're overdressed. Warren thought, saying, "This won't take long."

Richard sneered. Apparently, Warren hadn't kept his thoughts guarded well enough against the skilled telepath.

"That's a little low-brow, and there I was about to offer you a drink," he gestured to the bottle of wine on his coffee table; the furnishings of his unit were as decadent in taste as the paisley pattern of his silk robe.

"What's the name of the girl I live with?" Warren asked, straight to the point.

Richard grinned, topping up his wine glass from the $200 bottle Warren recognised; Mr. Abbott shared his taste for wine with Magnus. "Oh, little Rou? What about her?"

Warren bristled at his casual use of the nickname Juniper had gifted her. "Are you well acquainted?"

"Not as well as you, I bet," he laughed as only a cad could. "You've done quite well for yourself. She just fell into your hands, didn't she?" Richard sipped his wine, eying Warren haughtily, the way many Purebloods looked at Sired Vampires. Richard was pushing all the right buttons to get a rise out of him, but for now, he bit the inside of his cheek, drawing blood.

Swallowing that down, along with his disgust, he cracked a grin. "You admit you might've wandered too far into my territory then?"

"Whatever do you mean?" he chortled as if to feign innocence.

"You know precisely what I mean." Warren glowered, the air gathered around him thickening, and once again, he ground his fingernails into his palm. "Somehow… I don't know how or when, but you incepted the idea into her head that you could and would sire her. Let me make it irrevocably clear that that will never happen."

"Ha-ha, want her all to yourself, do you?" Richard set down his wine glass and squared up to him.

Standing a good few inches taller and a deal broader made no difference to Warren's stance; he stood firm, looking up into Richard's eyes unwavering.

"No one can get over how divine she smells. She must taste like pure ecstasy… but you already know that, don't you? You've had a little bite and don't want to share. Rou does. The little minx is gagging for someone to eat their heart out."

Eat their heart out. The words echoed in his mind. "Great idea," Warren muttered.

Belaying the use of his bared fangs and readied gift, Warren harnessed the most basal aspect of his nature, his unnatural speed and strength and thrust his speared hand beneath Richard's sternum. Yarring his towering adversary nearer from within, Warren's hand spliced the viscera like warm butter and yanked free the organ that'd been the talking point. Relieving his body of his heart, Warren withdrew his hand and forearm from Richard's hollowed ribcage and held it up before the Vampire's bewildered eyes as a trophy.

Although the blood that spluttered from Richard's gaping mouth was as red as the wine he'd drank, the blood spraying from the freshly harvested organ glistened, iridescent and tainted the muscle, too, making it appear like ammolite. Warren beheld how it twinkled spectacularly in the light of the hallway as Richard's body collapsed into a pile on his fine Persian rug.

That's going to stain. Warren thought as he watched the rest of Richard's blood spill. The defeated man attempted his last words, his fingers clawing at the ground at his sides, evidently in agony.

"Eat your heart out, did you say?" Warren loomed, and just before his eyes fluttered shut for the final time, he took a generous bite from the heart cradled in his hand. The raw muscle yielded to his fangs like ripe, tender fruit, oozing with the remnants of Richard's last feed. The glittering quality indicated one thing: it was Fae and had likely belonged to Juniper De'en. "Ngh." Warren groaned. That's some good eating. He devoured the whole thing.

Sucking his fingers clean and lapping his tongue the length of his palm, Warren thought better of cleaning his entire forearm of Richard's gore. Instead, he strolled calmly, if not slightly high and dazed, through the unit and into the bathroom. While running the faucet to fill the sink, Warren could feel reality drifting away on the wave of the Fae blood he'd consumed courtesy of his victim. His neck felt hot, his shirt damp and clingy, and his pants too tight around the swell in his underwear.

"Oh, fuck," he growled but quickly gave in to the notion that he should be naked. One instinct led to another, to another, and under the steaming hot water of unit five's shower, Warren's mind wandered to the beautiful, delicious woman who lay curled up, fast asleep, and none the wiser to his debauchery, in his own unit. With his hands meandering wantonly over his skin, he imagined how she tasted, how it was so much sweeter than his recent meal—revelling in his fantasies of how she felt in his arms led his hand to his nethers, where a fanatic and desperate rhythm brought ecstasy that quivered over his body and left him panting in its wake.

When he came to, slowly descended from his high, he'd made it back to the unit. He was idling by Karou's bedroom door. He was wet from the shower or the rain, he did not know, but he was barely dressed; his clothes looked as though they had been tossed onto his body. Gazing upon her sleeping face, Karou's innocent beauty struck him, and his stomach churned. What a night of sin…

✷✷✷

"Seeing as I'm not going to sire you, the only option is the latter, do you understand?"

"You're serious, aren't you?" The situation had taken a turn for the surreal.

"Have you ever known me to be anything other than serious?"

"Well... no, but I mean... if that's inevitable, then you're just deciding when?" The irony that she laid in the arms of her killer would've balled most people over—caused them to stagger to their feet and run, run for their lives, but not Karou. Truth be told, she'd always imagined that her death would come at the hands of the woman who had given her life, so the prospect of being killed by Warren wasn't that frightening. There was the possibility that he'd be merciful in his method, at least. She couldn't deny she was a little disappointed it'd had to come to this. For a while, she'd felt free, like she'd been given another chance to chase a better life. But at least now she had answers. A direction to move in, even if it led to an end, but didn't all things lead to an end anyway? She laid her head back down onto his chest. "Can we wait 'til my birthday?"

"You're taking this awfully well. I can't decide if you're fearless or..." dumb. Warren knew she wasn't the latter, they’d shared conversations where she had truly challenged his interlect. She had been on the cusp of going to a prestigious university. But he remembered the taste of fear as he fought for his life on the floor of his Parisian apartment those many years ago. He knew what it felt like to look death in the face. Karou, didn't look the least bit frightened. There again, in his heart of hearts, he didn't want to frighten her—he didn’t want her to be frightened of him. He just wanted her to cease her morbid machinations and accept living as a Mortal was the most appealing path. Yet, once again she bowled him over… "What? Why do you want to wait until your birthday? Isn't that a little morbid?"

"I suppose I've been living on borrowed time for a while. At least now I know I have a way out of this limbo. And twenty is a nice round number. Plus, there are a few things I'd like to do first. I know my options are limited because I'm stuck here, but I think I can work with that. I've got a month to complete my bucket list."

"You don't want longer than a month?" Now he wanted to backtrack. He wanted her to rethink her acceptance of her fate, say yes and put it off for as long as he would allow. In truth, he didn't know how long that would be, but it was probably much longer than a month.

"This way, I get a month, and I'll have lived here a year. A year is nothing to you, right? With all your years ahead of you, you can forget a year easily." Karou's mind was running through the things she would like to do, but some self-explanatory ones were at the top of the list. "Are you planning on putting me on one of those machines?"

"No," he couldn't hide his alarm, "Why'd you ask?" staring at the ceiling, this felt like one of his weirder, darker dreams—it almost certainly fell into the phantasmagorical category.

"I don't really care about what happens once it's over. Y'know, if you'd just let someone else sire me, I would've left, and you could've been rid of me. I wouldn't have snitched to anybody that you're all here. I like a lot of the people that live here; some are my friends. I wouldn't want to hurt them."

"Perhaps… I realise that now. That's why the decision was so difficult to make...”

Karou sat up, stretched her arms into the air, and let out a great yawn. "So, breakfast?"