Chapter Eighteen

Fearlessly

It had been a long, busy Sunday for Karou, but at least it had been productive. She’d managed to get a large portion of the week’s administration done, which was a blessing because she’d been playing catch up since Alice’s accident.

Unfortunately, sitting by her eldest daughter’s bedside while she rested and recovered wasn’t something that was a stranger to Karou. Alice wasn’t necessarily a sickly person, but her empathy sometimes had nasty side effects which left her bedridden due to mental overload or exhaustion. This time had been different; the fact that she’d fallen from height had been especially frightening.

Now though, she was up and about the Palace and doing lots better, but Karou had still chosen to reduce her duties, resulting in an increase in her workload.

Despite the tasks involved not being Cassandra’s strong suit, she had chipped in and helped out where she could, plus it gave her an excuse to avoid Samir. They weren’t on speaking terms since she’d jumped to conclusions and gifted him a roundhouse that had almost knocked him out and sent him tumbling over the edge of the roof along with her sister.

Lounged back in her office chair, feeling accomplished, Karou surveyed the fruit of her labour – the inbox tray on her desk was finally empty, and the out tray was full of neatly addressed envelopes and organised files ready to be collected by various secretaries and mail people.

The job well done lifted a weight from Karou’s shoulders and freed up some of her schedule for the next few days. It would be nice to have a little free time, but deciding how to spend it always proved an issue. It always felt like there weren’t enough hours in a day whenever she had the opportunity to do something for her own enjoyment. Usually, she only had nights to herself, which were never very exciting; she was often too exhausted to do much.

A few evenings ago, even though she’d heavily implied what she’d felt like doing when she invited Warren up to her room, she hadn’t gotten what she’d wanted. He’d skillfully subdued her, and they’d talked until Warren fell asleep. Once again, he’d spent the night on her couch. She hadn’t the heart to wake him to try and convince him to sleep in her bed with her.

Finally, having decided what she wanted to do with her free time, Karou escaped her office at around nine that evening and returned to her room shortly after, but about half an hour before she'd left she made one last phone call...

Since Cambria's little ‘meeting’ with Warren, the Court had lost all taste for proceeding with any sort of trial. Warren was out of trouble with the Enochian law as if the accusations had never been voiced! This was great news, but he was entirely off the hook after just because The Morningstar had had words with them. Karou was a little annoyed that the fallen angel still held such sway over the Court's older members. They were supposed to listen to her and her alone - she was their Queen!

Despite being initially pouty, she couldn’t be too bitter - things were starting to look up for her future.

Warren had gained consent to roam the Palace freely, so long as he didn’t try and go out into the city without an escort or asking for permission first. The mild imprisonment bugged him a little bit, but he didn’t want to cause any more trouble for Karou and her daughters – he’d stick to the rules for their sakes.

Admittedly, the Court weren’t overly thrilled about having another vampire in their city, and having him inside the Palace made them anxious – old prejudices died hard. Callida had expressed a desire to have Warren housed outside the Palace, but Vivek Mehra had strongly disagreed and insisted that keeping him inside the Palace was safer for the celestial populous. Besides, he could be better monitored there too.

Dismissive of Callida’s concerns, Karou encouraged Warren to make himself at home in the Palace. There was just one problem; his guest room certainly didn’t feel like a space that belonged to him. Warren had decided that he’d require a place of his own if he were going to stay. Although it was a thought that only cropped up sporadically in his mind since the sisters had mentioned the topic. His options were still very open, as far as he was concerned.

During the days Karou had spent hunkered down in her office, working, Warren had been doing much the same. He’d quickly gotten to work via his cell phone, and the laptop Cassandra had smuggled to his room - he had a lot of loose ends to tie up. Although he knew he was perhaps being hasty, it seemed best to leave things on good terms if it were possible that he might end up staying in Enoch. The custodian of his Florentine Villa had to be informed of his possible prolonged absence at the very least.

Although REDford more or less ran itself these days, his chief secretary was very surprised and relieved to hear from him. Many of his staff and clients had heard of his arrest by the International Vamperic Government and assumed him dead. The reconnaissance REDford had sent to Blue Ash to gather detail on Warren’s demise had only brought back news of its fall and the disbandment of the Davikov Coven. They were all too pleased to hear that their employer was alive and well. However, they weren’t all too welcoming of the idea that their new business venture might be on hold for a period. Still, he ordered the laboratories to continue production so that their supply chain didn’t grind to a halt unnecessarily. Gods forbid that the supply of grown blood should run out and the worldwide vamperic population all go hunting; chaos would ensue.

With business matters settled, Warren planned to make one more phone call on that Sunday night when another call came instead – it was Karou. She asked for his company as she had every night since his arrival, and he couldn’t refuse.

Once the call had ended, Warren showered and then made his journey to Karou’s room.

About the time Warren was due to arrive, Karou had situated herself in the middle of her bed to wait for him. Although she had planned to wind down, she had more work spread out over the comforter all around her. When she’d arrived back at her room, Alice had posted a large manila envelope under her door. It contained documents regarding potential renovations to the Palace for the Autumn. It was something that she’d allocated to Alice because it involved painstaking revisions and masses of research to aid the architect and treasury. It was the sort of tedious task Karou hated, and Alice excelled in… But it was only three-quarters finished. A note in Alice's impeccable handwriting was paperclipped to the front page, where she asked for assistance in completing the final plans and apologised profusely for not meeting her deadline. Karou felt bad leaving it for her daughter to sort out once she got back to work properly, so she surrounded herself with papers from that particular file and casually went about reviewing them. It wouldn’t be difficult to pick up where Alice had left off because she always made such detailed notes. Reading over any of Alice’s work made Karou incredibly proud as her mother.

Sat there with her legs crisscrossed, wearing more comfortable clothes; an oversized white shirt, lazily and messily buttoned, and a pair of purple pyjama shorts. She’d pulled her hair up into a bun and kept it secure with a pencil which she'd stabbed through it.

She held a glass of wine in one hand and a sheet of paper in her other, but between two of her fingers was a lit cigarette; a small clay ashtray had been balanced carefully on one of her knees. She didn’t smoke often, but occasionally, she felt like it, though she made sure to take care of hiding any evidence of her habit.

Across the room, Karou had made sure to leave her door open just a crack since the old door furniture tended to lock on her at the most inopportune moments.

When Warren made his way up the narrow staircase, first, he heard the quiet music she had playing coming from her room. It was a calming acoustic sort of song, one that she occasionally mouthed the words to. Standing in the doorway and peering into the room, he watched Karou sifting her paperwork and sipping at her wine.

When she brought the cigarette to her lips for a short drag, he announced his arrival by saying, “That’s a bad habit to keep, you know?” and shaking his head in disapproval.

Startled, Karou even jumped at the sudden sound of Warren’s voice. The papers on her lap were scattered in her flustered state.

“Uh, uh, well…” She stuttered. When she hurriedly went to stub out the cigarette, her eyes widened in alarm because the ashtray on her knee wobbled as if it might tip, and she didn’t have a free hand to stabilise it because she was still holding her wineglass, too. “Whoa! Oops. Ah, got it…”

He chuckled; her clumsiness was adorable, but he recalled a time that it used to irritate him - that was back when he wasn’t in love with her, though. He was glad that his annoyance had faded quickly as his fondness for her grew.

With her wineglass and ashtray set down elsewhere, the ordeal was over, much to Karou’s relief. It showed on her face when her head whipped around in his direction. She smiled, having regained her composure. “Well, if I recall correctly, you also share the same bad habit.”

Sauntering into the room, Warren sunk onto the sofa he’d previously spent the night on, and made himself at home while answering her calmly. “I do, but it isn’t necessarily a habit I want you to share with me...”

Although he hadn’t sounded stern like he was scolding her, Karou couldn’t help how her shoulders dropped or how she reacted apologetically; call it Fledgeling instinct. “I don’t do it very often…” She reasoned.

“You don’t owe me an explanation, Karou. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad about it.” Warren assured her. Stretching his arms down to his feet, he proceeded to remove his dress shoes and socks so as to further relax. Eager to change the subject, he’d already noticed the paperwork surrounding her and asked, “What’re you doing there? You look busy.”

“Just looking over potential renovations plans for the Palace. An extension of the guest wing was proposed last year.” Karou crawled to the foot of the bed and lay on her stomach to see and talk to him better, and continued, “I hadn’t done anything with it, so I gave it to Alice to run with; she’s good at this sort of thing. She’s done a really great job! But I’ve put her on lighter duties since her fall, so she’s given it back to me to add the finishing touches before submission to the architects.”

Leaning back against the sofa's arm, he focused on Karou as she shifted her position and replied, “The Palace doesn’t look like it needs any renovating to me,” Honestly, Warren had never seen such a magnificent place, and he’d been to some very high-end establishments. Of course, he expected a Palace to go above and beyond anything he’d seen before, but Morningstar Palace did, and then some.

“Yeah, I know. Me neither, but it’s a whole “big budgeting thing”. It’s a headache inflicted on me by the treasury…” Karou agreed in a bored tone as her eyes rolled.

That was when Warren noticed how thirsty she was. Her eyes; they’d lost their brightness and dwelled in the shade of Persian blue.

“Y’see, everything in the City gets a budget, and if it isn’t used for whatever it’s allocated to, for whatever reason, then the Court moves the money on to fund something else that’s deemed “urgent”, and somehow the money never seems to make it’s way back to where it was meant to be in the first place. So, the architect's board are keen to spend their budget for the sake of retaining it for when the Palace may actually require a genuine repair.” Karou explained in one long ramble.

Warren nodded along in understanding, but he was still a little distracted by her eyes.

“Anyway, how’re you this fine evening?”

His brow rose, having suddenly been asked a question when he’d only been half-listening. It wasn’t that he wasn’t interested in Karou’s work; it was just that how the shirt she was wearing had positioned itself revealed her rear, and in the tiny purple shorts she wore, he couldn’t get his eyes to look anywhere else. He cleared his throat to talk as his brain fumbled to find an answer. “I- I’m very well. I’ve spent the last few days tying things up in Florence, and with work, so I have some peace of mind that nothing will fall apart while I’m absent. Yourself?”

“Honestly? Stressed,” Karou sighed, with a pout for added effect. “I came back from my office feeling so… accomplished for getting done everything that’d stacked up there, but there’s always more! And there’s just too much to do right now! I should be going over the numbers from this last trading season, but in all seriousness, I think I might be sick if I have to look at another chart.” She rolled over onto her back, so her shoulders hung upside down off the bed. The pencil holding her bun secure came loose and fell to the floor just below her, and with it, her hair came free. It was long enough to touch the floor when she was lying like so.

“What is it you’ve got to look over? Some numbers?” Warren asked casually enough - Math and finance being one of his fortes, he figured he could help.

“Yeah, but I don’t want to waste our time together doing work…” Karou whined.

“Alright, what would you rather do instead to take your mind off of all that work then?” Sitting up to rest his folded forearms on the back of the sofa, Warren set his chin onto them, grinning down at her as he eyed her hair which his fingers itched to touch.

“I don’t know,” she said with a yawn. “Just hang out and talk, like we used to?”

It left Warren contented to know they could sit and talk again as they used to, even some fifty years from their last encounter.

“Or… did you have something else in mind?” Karou asked suggestively and rolled off the bed. Prowling toward him and the couch, she toyed with the hem of her shirt and nibbled at her lower lip while her hair hung in messy tresses over one shoulder. Not all dressed up for work; she looked more like herself, which Warren couldn’t help finding equally nostalgic and irresistible.

He swallowed the well he’d salivated while watching her. Given his mood, he was more inclined to give in to her tonight. He’d missed her while she was busy working. Still, until his situation was all figured out, he didn’t want to rush into rekindling their romance hastily by giving into lust.

“Karou…” He muttered her name the moment she came to be stood up against the back of the couch. He wanted to take a pause so that they could remain rational about their interaction.

“Yes, Warren?” She asked, whispering back at him, sultry and looking down into his eyes intensely. He could see her intentions clearly, and she had no interest in reigning in her emotions nor how they made her act.

He said nothing else but simply rested his head against her in resignation - his forehead was placed just beneath her breasts as he breathed in her scent from the soft cotton fabric of her shirt.

Sighing out his deep breath, Warren decided he couldn’t keep his hands off her any longer. Knelt, with his hips pressed into the back of the couch, Warren grasped ahold of Karou. He slid his hands up over her hips to her waist beneath her shirt. Karou’s skin was as silky smooth as ever, and he couldn’t help but knead at her flesh to imply how much he enjoyed touching her.

In reply, Karou arched her back and shifted her chest closer to him with a happy sigh. Now, her arms reached for him and rested on his shoulders while she combed her fingers into his hair. He liked that; it showed in the content look on his face and how he tilted his head into her hands.

Face to face, he met her eyes and held her gaze with so much yearning.

“How many of these moments will it take for you to let go, Warren?” Karou asked, combing her fingers through the slightly greying hair at his temples. “I don’t want to ruin our chance at being together this time by repeating our mistakes from last time.”

“You mean my mistakes?” He asked guiltily.

“You always made me work so hard before you let me get close to you. Does it have to be like that now too?”

“You think I’m being overcautious? I just don’t want there to be any repercussions for you, Karou.”

“Please, just let me love you as fearlessly as I feel it inside?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be as brave as you,” Warren admitted. He admired that trait of hers so much. “- and I’ll never deserve you.”

“Yes, you do, you silly old man.” Karou chuckled lightly and held his face in his hands. “You deserve love as much as anyone else, and I love no one as much as I love you. I never have, and never will.”

Warren took her hands from his face and closed the gap between them when he pressed his lips to hers. There was no more hesitation. He kissed her like his life depended on it.

Consuming each other in that lustful way felt so natural, and Karou submitted to it entirely. She hummed happily into his lips when she returned his kiss.

There has never been anyone else who I’ve felt so much for. Warren thought, lending his consciousness to Karou.

I love you. Oh, God's, I’ve missed you. Karou thought back. She wanted to cry in happiness.

The gradually building tempo of the music that played in the background encouraged them toward their desired conclusion. Their breathing grew more rapid and heavy in their excitement. Their lips met one another’s lustily and frantic in their movement. Moans and soft hums of pleasure rumbled from lip to lip. Their hands greedily sought the naked skin of the other. Without breaking the contact of their lips, Karou climbed, aided by Warren, to sit on the back of the sofa. As his fingers unbuttoned her shirt, she mimicked his actions so that they could be shirtless together. Warren shrugged the fabric from his shoulders first, and Karou’s hands were quick to feel out the landscape of his torso, from his shoulders, over his chest and down his abdomen, all the way to his hips. She hadn’t touched him in such a familiar way in so long, yet it was just as thrilling as the first time. Regardless of the obvious aesthetic appeal, he, all of himself, was everything she wanted, still.

When, at last, Warren had Karou's shirt peeled off her shoulders - he'd been bust kissing her neck - her fingertips had already reached for the button fastening of his pants.

A shrill ring cut through the music.

Their surprise paused their 'moment', and the mutual realisation that Karou’s bedroom phone was ringing threatened to kill their passion.

Both their heads turned. Their eyes glared at the landline telephone that sat on Karou’s desk.

“Just ignore it?” Karou asked, hopeful that he’d agree and she could go right back to loving on him.

“Who would call so late?”

“The girls…” Karou answered reluctantly, ashamed that she’d considered ignoring either of her daughters for the sake of screwing around with Warren.

“Then you should answer it,” Warren suggested without question.

“Alright.” Karou peeled herself away and dashed over to the phone.

With the receiver held to her ear, she hadn’t even the chance to greet her caller when a panicked Alice exclaimed; “Cass and Samir are fighting -”

Karou and Warren flit through the Palace and out into the City, tracking the scent of Cassandra and Samir until they came upon the frantic scene. The air was hot and thick; it disturbed the peace of the late hour as the two pyromancers faced off against one another. Their hands were ablaze and swinging at each other's bodies, intending to land hard blows. It looked like some had already been received - both combatants wore blood upon their faces. Though their flames would have scorched neither, they burned ferociously regardless. Overcome by rage, the pyrotechnics illustrated how they’d chosen to vent that emotion.

On the sidelines, Alice sat on the entry steps of a house, with her forehead pressed against her knees. Her body rocked back and forth in an attempt to soothe itself. Her hands cupped her ears to block out as much of the traumatic audible information as possible, though she found it difficult not to drink in their anger through her empathy.

The end of a night out at Alsham’s notorious nightclub, Brimstone, had been thoroughly ruined by the outbreak of the fight. War had been waged over a small comment taken as a slight because their senses were blurred by the substances they’d each consumed - Samir was drunk, and Cassandra was high on some Faeish stimulant.

Fortunately, they’d gotten to THE ROCK before things had gone south, which meant there wasn’t a crowd to watch them. However, the neighbourhood people had opened windows and shutters to yell down into the street, complaints about the commotion.

When Karou and Warren arrived, he’d commanded Karou, “Go to Alessandra,”

She hadn’t given doing what he’d told her a second thought until she had Alice safely in her arms and watched her Sire march toward the flaming forms of her other daughter and Samir undaunted.

“Warren, wait! The flames…” She feared they’d burn him.

He held out his hand in a silent request for her to be quiet, calm down and have no fear.

Cassandra had just elbowed Samir in the cheek. Now, she was ready to have him in a headlock so she could send her knee into his diaphragm. Samir’s hands reached to yank at her hair in a petty move to fight his way free. Neither noticed the vampire approaching their quarrel.

“That’s enough.” Warren bellowed, having come to be stood several feet from the pair. Their flames warmed his face, the heat making his skin feel tight and uncomfortable across his cheekbones.

Cassandra’s eyes met his first, and although she didn’t let go of Samir, the slight distraction gave Samir enough of an out to regain some dominance.

Free of Cass’s arms, he glared at Warren and silently questioned the vampire’s authority via the cocky expression on his face. His rage redirected in a split second. Samir took off across the cobblestones and left Cassandra’s arms, reaching out in a futile attempt at stopping him from charging at full-pelt toward her mother’s Sire.

Who does the Sired vampire think he is to interfere, huh? Samir thought.

“Warren!” Karou cried, fearing the worse.

“No…” Alice whispered in resignation and hid her face in her mother’s shoulder. She couldn’t bear to look.

Warren stood firm, calmly awaiting his collision with the nephilim racing toward him, ablaze from head to toe. A few feet nearer, but still a few away; Warren rose his hands from his side. Palms facing skyward, with only his forearms extended from his body. Then, he clenched his fingers into beckoning fists, summoning air to him. To onlookers, the reaction was strange but simple and effective.

First, a great gust of wind came down the street; the air rallied toward Warren as an ally. It blew Karou and Alessandra’s hair back from their faces as they clung to each other and closed their eyes against the wave of dust and sand that swept toward them off the pavement.

Then there came darkness. Cassandra looked down at her hands; her flames had been blown out or rather starved of the oxygen required for their combustion. The exact same thing had happened to the pyromancer pursuing Warren too.

With the air at his command, Warren relaxed his fists in a sudden flourish that forced a gale back at Samir. Taken off his feet, blown backwards, and winded, Samir eventually landed hard against the stone sidewalk. He barely had the time to realise what had happened in fullness, and his eyes showed his confusion.

Silently and in shock, Samir looked up at Warren, who came to be standing over him while he caught his breath. He stumbled for his footing, but Warren uttered a simple command. “Please, don’t get up.”