The Thrill of Anarchy

Chapter Nine

"My place." The voice came from a mezzanine level above our heads. I cursed myself for being so unobservant, but the individual had been standing so quietly, just out of my line of sight, that I didn't see him. The man from earlier walked down a spiral metal staircase and into the living room. He held a glass of milk in one hand and a newspaper in the other. He looked like a university professor, or at least what I assumed one would look like.

"And you are?" I questioned; my tone was cool. He'd clearly been eavesdropping on our conversation and I'd still not forgiven him for punching me in the face.

"Stephan Foley," he replied in an equally cool tone as if he didn't appreciate me throwing up in his bathroom sink.

"Well, Stephan Foley, could you give me and Cain some privacy for a moment?"

"I don't take orders from you," Stephan replied simply. He took a sip from his glass of milk. What kind of person drinks milk from the glass? I thought, curling my lip in disgust. This man was weird.

"I would," Cain answered for me, "she's scary when she's angry."

I could tell that Cain was teasing me, but he was also right. I was scary when I was angry. I smirked coldly at Stephan, daring him to test me. He sighed and moved towards the door, whispering something to Cain on the way past. I couldn't hear what. Cain snorted and looked directly at me. I decided not to let it bother me.

Once Stephan was gone, Cain turned to me with an annoying grin on his face. I smiled back and watched his grin begin to falter. Just as it was about to disappear entirely, I slapped him. Hard.

"Ow! Bitch! What the fuck was that for?" Cain yelled indignantly as he cradled his cheek, "I've just been really kind to you."

"That's for putting vampire blood into my system," I said, ignoring his mutterings about how I would've died without it. I slapped him again, this time on the other cheek. "And that's for forgetting to mention that the Council thinks you murdered your brother. The last thing I need is to get on the wrong side of the Council."

I glared at Cain as his facial expression went from confusion to understanding, to regret. My shoulder began to ache, and I felt wobbly again. I realised slapping him probably wasn't the best idea, but it had made me feel slightly better.

"Ah," Cain muttered, "about that."

He paused, and I looked at him expectantly.

"Firstly, I was only a suspect and they let me go. Secondly, not all hunters think I killed him. Stephan doesn't think I did," Cain said defensively. "And I didn't think it mattered since you're 'not a hunter'. Finally, I didn't kill him. I don't know why the Council would send Alexander Lance, of all people, to hunt us. The guy's the biggest coward I've ever met."

"Well, you fucked that prediction up," I said sarcastically.

"You don't..." Cain began and then trailed off.

I looked at him. He was staring determinedly at the floor, so I had a perfect view of his black hair. I wondered very briefly, how he managed to find time to slick it back before going out and hunting vampires. I knew exactly what question Cain was trying to ask me, but being the kind of person I am, I decided to make him squirm.

"I don't what?" I asked innocently.

"You don't," Cain said again, shifting uncomfortably. "You don't think I did it, do you?"

"Did what?" I asked.

"You don't think I actually killed Rueben, do you?"

I let my silence torture him for a while. Alexander had said something strange the previous night: 'Wade Cain is responsible for the murder of Rueben Harmon and the abduction and murder of Tamara Ferguson'. Cain and I had been the ones to discover Tammy's body. Besides the phone call that Cain had made, we were the only ones who knew. There was no way the Council could've investigated the murder and determined that Cain was the murderer in such a short amount of time. That meant that the only other person to know about Tammy's death, was the murderer himself.