The Lamia Hunt

Chapter Five: Memories

10:30 07/03/2015

Claire stood up, walking to the window and glaring out of it.
Why, in God's name, was she in charge of this? Of all of the people who could have interrogated Lucille Taite, why had it been her in particular they'd chosen?
She couldn't help but feel that this was the Gemini testing her. For what, she didn't really want to know.
"Hey," said Lucy, kneeling on the sofa, turned towards Claire. "What're you doing?"
She shrugged.
"You're not going to tell me anything useful, so there's no point in me asking, is there?"
Lucy shook her head.
"I guess not. But you know, I don't know why you even needed to ask me in the first place. I mean-"
"Records. It's for the records. Tabulae prefer us to have complete files."
"And leaving me alive is okay, so long as you get complete files for Lamiae who're already dead?"
"If you answer the questions."
Lucy didn't respond. They stood in silence for a moment that seemed like an eternity, and Claire tried to slow her own breathing until it was barely audible. She could feel Lucy's eyes on her, and glanced at her to make sure, watching her out of the corner of her eye.
Lucy noticed.
"Fine," she said. "Ask me a question. Or however many it takes for me to get out of here."
Claire turned, watching Lucy.
The Lamia returned her gaze, her face expressionless. "Come on," she said, spreading her hands in front of her. "I'm offering to give you information. Answer your questions. What's holding you back?"
Claire scowled at her.
"You're awfully full of yourself, Miss Taite. Do you really believe that you're that useful to us?"
Lucy raised her eyebrows, and shrugged.
"Well, yeah." She snorted. "I mean, literally everyone else involved in this is dead. I'm not the key witness, I'm the only witness. If it's actually important to you - and I don't see why it is, if Fidèle's already dead - then-"
"That's it, though," Claire smiled. "You're not really giving us any useful information, just information. This is only for records." She hesitated. Actually, none of what she was saying was true. Although they had managed to capture Lucy, the team of hunters that had raided Fidèle's lair had let Fidèle himself slip through their fingers. Telling Lucy that he was dead had seemed the only way to make her give them information, but Claire was unsure of whether it would work. With the way she was heading now, it probably wasn't going to go well. "You know," she continued, walking towards Lucy. "I could kill you right here and nobody would care. That's how worthless you are. Get off your high horse."
Lucy smiled.
"Very well, Miss Lu. Tell me, would you like me to grovel as I answer your questions, or may I continue to sit here?"
"There will be fine." Claire stalked back to her place next to the table, not looking at Lucy. It was easier not to. Her eyes raked over the files, searching for something she could ask her. She couldn't ask too much, not at the start. She'd seen enough of Lucy to know that that wasn't going to work. Nothing directly about Fidèle; Lucy was smart enough to realise that there was something off about asking questions about him, if it were simply for the purpose of filling out records.
"Well?" Lucy glared at her. "You're taking a while. Could you hurry up a bit?"
"Fine," Claire snapped. "Tell me about your experience of Theodore Taite, why don't you?"
"That doesn't seem very practical. He was a Praedatori hunter; you should have far more detailed information on him than I do. I mean, I was just-"
"What do you mean, "you were just"? He just raised you, just took you in off the streets when you were an infant! You can't deny that you knew him, so stop trying to avoid answering questions." Claire did not look at Lucy as she spoke.
Lucy shook her head.
"You're quite ridiculous, you know?" She let out a long, tired sigh. "You seem oddly keen to finish my sentences, and to rip opinions out of my throat. What I was going to say was that, despite the part Theodore Taite played in my early life, it was my early life, and that my testimonies to his character would be distorted by time, and by the fact that I was ten years old when I saw him last."
"I never said I expected what you said to be accurate. I told you to tell me what your experience of him was. You're good at deflecting, but it's not going to work."
Lucy shrugged.
"I don't know what you mean. Do you want me to say that he was a bad cook, or that he made me stop doing homework so that I could train for the Praedatori instead? What are you looking for when you ask for my experience of him? I'd like some more clarification, please." She spoke flatly, staring straight ahead of her.
Claire frowned.
"You don't seem to be showing a lot of remorse about what happened to him."
"Remorse?" Lucy laughed, hoarsely. "Remorse? What reason should I have to show remorse about Theodore Taite's death. First of all, it was fifteen years ago, and-"
"But it was your fault. You were to blame for it, and you claim that you shouldn't have to feel remorse." She paused, and glared at her. "You disgust me."
"Really?" Lucy didn't look at her. "I disgust you? For what? For not taking blame for the death of someone who was killed when I was ten years old?"
"For somebody who had raised you for nine of those years, and who would still be alive today if they hadn't."
Lucy snorted.
"Of course you'd say that. Of course you'd blame me for that. I was ten, for fuck's sake. There was nothing I could have done. Yes, perhaps Taite would have faired better, had he not taken me in, but there was nothing in my power to stop him. And either way, he was against Fidèle. Blaming his death on me when it was really due to nothing but his own incompetence is what's disgusting. Not being a defenceless child in a situation that they couldn't control." She slumped back on the sofa, and sighed. "And anyway, he didn't even get past Annabelle, let alone Fidèle himself. "
Claire tensed.
"Annabelle?"
Lucy nodded.
"Don't you know who she is?"
"Whether I do or not is, quite frankly, none of your business. What I want to know is what you know about her."
Lucy glared at her.
"She's dead." Having said this, she turned in on herself, wrapped her arms over her head, and leant down on the couch, pretending to fall asleep.
Claire didn't have the stamina to try and wake her.