Hunting Daylight (9781101619032)

by Maitland, Piper

  “Two months, maybe three. I know that sounds protracted, but just think how long it takes to learn a foreign language.”

  “I’m not sure we can stay in Paris that long. Especially if we’re visiting you every day. Someone might notice.”

  “Vivi will live with me for the duration of her training.”

  A burning pain spread around my breastbone, as if I’d swallowed hot coffee. I turned away from the view. “Please don’t take this the wrong way. But I barely know you. We met fifteen minutes ago.”

  “I understand your concerns.”

  I heard a scritching noise and looked at the terrace door. The orange cat was raking her claws over the glass. Sabine gave the animal an adoring look. “I’ll be with you in a moment, Marie-Therese,” she told the cat.

  Normally I trusted people who talked to animals, but I honestly didn’t know what to think about Sabine. And I couldn’t be too careful with my child.

  “Vivi has never been away from me,” I said. “Not even one night.”

  Sabine placed a stumpy hand against her chest. “I could never leave Marie-Therese with a stranger.”

  Was she telling the truth? Or patronizing me? “I’m sorry we wasted your time,” I said.

  “I’m not worried about my time,” she said. “I’m worried that Vivi won’t harness her powers.”

  “She won’t hurt me.”

  “She already has.”

  “I’m not scared. Vivi is coming home with me, and that’s the end of it.” I started walking toward the door.

  “No, it’s not the end,” she said.

  I heard a grinding noise, the kind an old car makes when a dog races across the road and the driver stomps the brake. I felt the tug of gravity, and my chin tipped back. Suddenly I was looking up at the night sky.

  “Please listen to me, Caro,” Sabine said.

  Inside my head, a thought took shape and hardened. The truth lay inside me, the truth of me and Vivi, everything we were and everything we would become. But my logic was skewed and selfish. I was protecting my child for the wrong reasons. If she had diabetes, would I refuse to give her insulin because the needle might cause too much pain? No, of course not. If I delayed Vivi’s treatment, I was thinking of myself, not her.

  The gravity retreated, and my head snapped back. She’s Inducing me.

  Sabine’s gaze met mine, and it seemed to move through me, as if she’d looked all the way to my childhood, back to the night I’d hidden behind the waterfall.

  “Your mother protected you,” she said. “Now you must protect Vivi.”

  “Don’t you dare look in my thoughts,” I whispered.

  “I understand why you don’t like me. I’m brash and pushy. I say the wrong thing at the wrong time. But I am the only person who can help your daughter—without betraying her. My blood is the same as yours.”

  “You may be a hybrid, but we’re not alike.”

  “Your father was Philippe Grimaldi. My mother was his cousin—Aimée d’Aigreville. She and her sister Esmé turned Raphael into a vampire.”

  “That happened in the eighth century. Aimée couldn’t possibly be your mother.”

  “She was.”

  I studied Sabine’s face. Her complexion was smooth. A few wrinkles fanned away from her eyes. Small lines were etched on her upper lip. I’d assumed that she was in her early fifties. “Just how old are you?”

  “I was born in 1928.” She smiled. “You’ll age slowly and gracefully, too. So will Vivi. I know what it means to be caught between two worlds, human and vampire. We don’t fit into either place. Maybe you’ve made peace with this sense of dislocation. But Vivi hasn’t If she doesn’t learn the parameters of Induction, she will put herself and others at risk.”

  “Your scare tactics aren’t working.”

  “One day Vivi might walk into a coffee shop and order a latte,” Sabine said. “The waitress could be having a horrible day. Let’s say that she brings Vivi a double espresso. If Vivi complains, the waitress might smart off. Maybe Vivi’s had a worse day. Or the waitress reminds her of the girl who stole her boyfriend. So Vivi blasts her—Bring me a latte—and the waitress starts to bleed. After a series of these incidents, whoever is tracking Vivi will be able to pinpoint her location. She’ll attract others, too. People who will wish to exploit her.”

  My throat felt raw, and it hurt to breathe. “But you said Vivi was a weapon. She could kill the trackers.”

  “Not unless she knows how.” Sabine paused. “There’s more, and you’re not going to like it. Vivi must learn how to resist the allure of Induction. The more one uses it, the more one enjoys it. It can become a harmful coping mechanism, a way to blow off anger. She might become dangerous. And that will attract dangerous people.”

  “I understand what you’re saying, Sabine. But I’m not leaving my daughter with you. You are welcome to live with us. We’re always moving around, but—”

  “No.”

  “I’m sorry. She can’t stay here.”

  “Oh, yes I can,” Vivi said from the doorway.

  I turned. She was holding the cat.

  Sabine’s eyes flicked from Vivi to Marie-Therese.

  Vivi walked up to me, the wind lifting her fake curls. “Mom, it’s okay. Let the doctor help me. I won’t mind being here.”

  I shook my head.

  “I’m scared to be around you and Raphael. Just go home and let me get better. It’ll be like summer camp. I always wanted to go, and you wouldn’t let me. Please, Mom. I made you and Raphael bleed—and I wasn’t even really mad.”

  “We don’t know anything about this doctor,” I whispered.

  “Raphael can vouch for me,” Sabine said.

  “He can also vouch for supermodels,” I said.

  Sabine smiled. “You’ll have trouble finding a woman he can’t endorse.”

  “Look, Mom,” Vivi said. “I’m the one with Induction. I get to make the decision. You’ve got to trust the doctor.”

  “It’s too soon.”

  “I’ve got an idea. What if you exchange prisoners?” Vivi put the cat in my arms. “Sabine keeps me. And you keep Marie-Therese.”

  When Raphael and I left Sabine’s apartment, the stretch Hummer was gone, replaced by a white BMW with tinted windows. Instead of returning to Place des Victoires, we turned into an underground parking garage. It was a well-lit space, full of echoes. I got out of the BMW, carrying the Sherpa, and moved toward a navy blue Mercedes, wincing each time Arrapato barked.

  Minutes later, we were safely inside the house. Raphael walked ahead with the cat. I followed him to the kitchen. It was a large room with white cabinets, black granite counters, and stainless appliances.

  “You look exhausted, mia cara.” Raphael put Marie-Therese on the counter.

  “I am.” I unzipped the Sherpa, and Arrapato gazed up at the cat, a growl caught in his throat.

  Raphael opened the refrigerator door, and light spilled across his face. He lifted a jar of cream, poured a dab into a bowl, and set it in front of the cat. She tiptoed across the counter, her reflection gliding in the black granite. Arrapato dropped into a play bow, front paws on the floor, tail in the air. The cat ignored him and placidly lapped cream.

  “Can Sabine really help Vivi?” I asked.

  “Yes. That’s why I brought her to Paris.”

  “Is Sabine capable of taking care of a teenager?”

  “She’s a professional.” He lifted Marie-Therese into his arms and led me to the ground-floor salon. Arrapato shot ahead of us, ears perked, tail whipping back and forth. The cat sprang out of Raphael’s arm and leaped onto the ice-blue curtains.

  “Oh, go ahead, kitty. Rip them to pieces,” he told the cat, then sank down on a Louis XIV sofa that matched the draperies. I walked over to Marie-Therese, gently extracted her claws from the silk, and set her on a gilt table. Arrapato parked himself beneath it and whined. I stared down at him. “Will you hurt her?”

  “He’d drain that cat in two minutes.
” Raphael snapped his fingers.

  “We’d better keep them apart.” I sat down beside him and cupped my hands around my elbows. “The last time I visited you, this room was mint green. Now it’s blue. It’s pretty.”

  He pressed two fingers against his temple. “An unfortunate accident.”

  The edge in his voice caught my attention. “What kind? Water damage?”

  He snorted. “I wish.”

  “What happened?”

  “I hired an interior designer. She did what she wanted.” Two red patches appeared on his cheeks. “With the design, I mean.”

  “Oh.” As I stared at him, I caught the tail end of his thought, Merda.

  His mouth drew into a tight line. After a moment, he said, “Would you like a drink?”

  “It won’t help.” I knew he was leading me away from the rest of his thoughts—probably his disagreeable affair with the interior designer—but I was too heartsick over Vivi to care. My hands fell away from my elbows, and I slumped against the sofa.

  “Don’t be pessimistic, mia cara.”

  “I just left my daughter with a half vampire.”

  “Sabine has a medical degree from Harvard.”

  “Why does that feel like a non sequitur?”

  He took my hand and rubbed the back of my knuckles. “How can I make you feel better?”

  “You can’t.” Not with words, anyway.

  “Let me try. History always relaxes you. Open your mind.”

  “Okay.” I shut my eyes and leaned my head against the back of the sofa. The room fell away, and images from Raphael’s mind whirled around me. The bleak tramontana wind, scraping over the Italian Alps. Holy water poured over a sleeping infant’s forehead. A dark rush of espresso into a white cup. Marzipan lambs at Easter, nestled in a straw basket. A dark-eyed monk cutting his hair on Maundy Thursday, blond strands falling to a stone floor. I saw lavender light pouring onto the Tuscan hills. I smelled ripe grapes and coriander and damp earth. I heard a coin fall into an Etruscan well. Before it hit the bottom, I was calm. I thanked Raphael, then Marie-Therese and I went to my bedroom.

  CHAPTER 23

  Vivi

  CHAMPS ÉLYSÉES

  PARIS, FRANCE

  Vivi stood next to the living room window, watching traffic move down the Champs Élysées, headlights sweeping around the Arc de Triomphe. This night had lasted forever and ever. And she was beginning to regret her decision to stay in this penthouse. It was too white. She turned back to the doctor, who sat placidly in a white chair. “Why were you at Chez Georges tonight?”

  “It was part of the examination. I cleared it with Raphael, of course.”

  Traitor. Vivi could feel her apple dessert creeping up the back of her throat. “So you Nancy Drewed me?”

  “I’m sorry if I offended you.”

  “I’ll get over it.” Vivi sighed. “Are you angry because I gave your cat to Mom?”

  “No, I thought it was clever.”

  Vivi smiled. “What should I call you? Doctor? Teacher?”

  “Sabine is fine. Would you like a cup of hot chocolate before we begin the test?”

  “How many are there?”

  “Tonight? Just one,” Sabine said. “You look thirsty.”

  A cup of hot cocoa did sound nice. Vivi nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

  “The kitchen is just beyond those doors.” Sabine pointed to the other end of the room.

  Vivi took a step, then turned. “Aren’t you coming, too?”

  “No.” Sabine looked amused. “Why?”

  “I don’t know how to make cocoa.”

  “Did I say you had to make it?” She made a shooing motion with her hand. “Lesson one. Don’t be too quick to make assumptions.”

  Vivi chewed her lip. Could Sabine whip up food in her mind? For real? Vivi had to see this. She walked into a bone-white kitchen. Mismatched dishes, also white, were crammed into a rack. A tall, raw-boned woman with muddy eyes stood next to the stove, stirring a copper pot. Her skin was the color of melted Godiva chocolate. She wore an orange cotton dress, and a crucifix dangled from a gold necklace. She looked at Vivi and snickered.

  “You’re drink is almost ready, Heidi.”

  “Heidi had short brown hair.” Vivi yanked off the wig and fluffed her bangs.

  The woman’s gaze swept over her. “You ain’t gone make me bleed, are you?”

  “No.”

  “I’ll whip your ass if you do.” The woman tipped the copper pan over a mug. A few dark drops hit the counter, and she wiped it up with her finger. “What you looking at, Heidi?”

  Was something wrong with that lady’s hearing? “My name is Vivi.”

  “I know who you are.” The woman set the mug in front of Vivi. “Not that you asked, but my name is Lena.”

  Vivi reached for the mug and took a sip. “It’s good.”

  “I learned how to cook when I was just yay big. I grew up in Memphis. Big ole family. My grandmama owned a café. First thing she taught me was how to make cocoa.”

  “Are you a vampire?” Vivi asked.

  “No.” Lena snorted. “Are you?”

  “One-quarter,” Vivi said, watching the woman’s face.

  Lena laughed. Her voice was throaty, strung up with barbed wire, the way Maleficent might have laughed when she’d plotted to kill Sleeping Beauty.

  “What’s so funny?” Vivi asked, starting to get peeved.

  “Laughing is better than crying, ain’t it?” Lena grinned, showing a gap between her front teeth. “What you keep staring at, girl?”

  “I’m a very observant person.” Vivi took another sip, and the warm chocolate tumbled through her chest. She lowered the mug. “Why is Sabine’s house so white?”

  “Dr. Sabine would say that she likes the color. But if you ask me, she feels dirty.”

  “She’s afraid of germs? Or is she a neat freak?”

  “Naw, not that kind of dirty. She thinks her blood is tainted. See, her mother was a vampire. She married another vampire, that d’Orsay scoundrel. They belonged to the Occitaine Cabal. Big shots. Her daddy still lives in that mansion near Saint Germain des Prés.”

  “Wait, I thought Sabine was a half vampire.”

  “She is. Her mama went and had a love snarl with a human. Got herself knocked up with Dr. Sabine. It caused a shitstorm in the d’Orsay household.”

  Vivi blinked and sat up a little straighter.

  “What’s wrong now, Heidi? Ain’t you never heard cussing?”

  “Sure. But I’m confused. I thought Sabine’s last name was d’Aigreville.”

  “It is. Mr. d’Orsay is Sabine’s legal dad. He treated his wife poorly. Mrs. d’Orsay’s maiden name was d’Aigreville.” Lena walked back to the stove, grabbed the copper pot, and set it in the sink. “After Dr. Sabine was born, Mr. d’Orsay wouldn’t give the child his name. She took her mama’s. That’s why the doctor call herelf d’Aigreville. Poor girl got banished from Paris when she was six weeks old. She was sent to the d’Orsay house in Aix-en-Provence. Her family forgot she existed.”

  “Wow, that’s cold.”

  “Ice cold. Dr. Sabine grew up with cats and nannies. She don’t have nothing to do with the d’Orsays. She wanted to, but they’d cast her out.”

  “Why didn’t her mama keep her?”

  “She died.”

  “But how? I thought you said Mrs. d’Orsay was a vampire. They don’t up and die.”

  “They say she cut her wrists and bled to death. But personally, I think Mr. d’Orsay had his wife put down. Just like she was a dog.”

  “Seriously? He snuffed her?”

  “I don’t know for sure. I’m just guessing.” Lena opened the cabinet and took out the copper polish. “If you ask me, Dr. Sabine was lucky. She gets along just fine without them Occitaine assholes. She took after her human daddy. She’s kind and smart like him. He’s a doctor, and she was determined to make him proud. She went to medical school in America. Did training in England and Lord knows where else
. A rich vampire paid for everything—I ain’t saying who.”

  “Raphael?”

  “Maybe.” Lena smiled. “Finish your chocolate. Dr. Sabine’s waiting for you in the library. First door on the right.”

  Vivi drank the rest of the cocoa and wiped her mouth. Why had Lena told her these private things? Was she a gossip? Or had she been instructed to brief Vivi? To distract her so Sabine could eavesdrop on Vivi’s real thoughts?

  She stared down into her mug, willing her mind to be just as empty, then looked up. “Can Sabine help me?”

  “Sure.” Lena nodded. “But you asking the wrong question. Ask yourself if you can help you.”

  Vivi wandered to the library. The white shelves were lined with books, each one wrapped in thick, creamy paper and tied with twine, as if colorful jackets needed to be hidden.

  Sabine sat behind a carved desk, writing in a notebook. She glanced up, and her reading glasses skated to the end of her nose. “I’ll be with you in a moment, Vivi.”

  “Take your time.” Vivi looked up at a picture of a tumble-down castle. It sat on a hill, the French Alps rising in the distance. It reminded her of something, but she couldn’t say what.

  Sabine rose from her chair and walked around the desk. “That’s an etching of Château of Peyrepertuse.”

  “I bet it was pretty at one time. How did it get ruined?”

  “It sits on a craggy hill. Time and wind whittled it. Peyrepertuse means ‘pointy hill,’ by the way.” Sabine tilted her head. “You and your mother have been on the run for a while, haven’t you?”

  “All my life.”

  “Tell me about your education. How many schools have you attended?”

  Vivi shrugged. “My mom homeschools me. See, I went to a school in Australia, but it didn’t work out.”

  Sabine didn’t look surprised. “Why not?”

  “I got picked on. A guy kicked my shins. I shoved him. Blood squirted out of his mouth. I didn’t think I pushed him that hard.” She shrugged again. “Maybe I Induced him.”

  “Is that the first time you suspected you could do this?”