Not-Cain gave me a look. “You’re not actually going to murder your mother, are you? Because I really don’t fancy going down as an accessory. And you’re too good-looking to go to jail, although at least you wouldn’t be wearing those jeans.”
“What’s wrong with the jeans?” I asked, hurt. I mean, I’d accepted they didn’t work their usual wonders on him, but did he have to diss them as well?
“Nothing’s wrong with the jeans. That’s the point. Now, do we ring the bell, or have you got a key?”
“We ring the bell,” I said firmly. “I had enough of walking in on my mother in flagrante while I was still living with her.” I rang it, loudly.
Lilith actually looked a bit harried when she opened the door. “Finally! Where on earth have you been all morning?” She stepped back. “Come in, come in. Cain, it
