Hunting Daylight (9781101619032) (28 page)

BOOK: Hunting Daylight (9781101619032)
5.26Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

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?”

“No. I didn’t figure it out until I was in Norway. See, people have always bled around me. I figured it was their problem. But it felt different when my mom’s nose started to gush in that coffee shop.”

“Why was it different?” Sabine asked. “Was it your mother’s first nosebleed?”

“No.” Vivi swallowed. “Something felt different inside me. I felt this whoosh behind my nose, like I was getting ready to blow out a humongous sneeze. Mom’s head snapped back, like she’d felt it, too. When I saw the blood,
I was so freaked. I knew I’d done it. I don’t know how I knew.”

“How did you feel when you made Raphael’s ear bleed?”

“I just wanted him to leave me alone. I was mad. But I didn’t want to sneeze. I’m sorry I hurt him. He’s like a dad to me.”

Sabine began to walk in a circle around Vivi.

“What?” Vivi asked, turning with her.

“You’re hungry, aren’t you?” Sabine asked.

“No, I’m—” Vivi hesitated. Well, maybe she could eat a chocolate croissant. “I guess.”

Sabine grinned, showing a row of small, crooked teeth.

“What’s so funny?” Vivi asked.

“You’ll see.”

Sabine was still smiling when Lena walked into the room, holding a white tray. She set it on a table in front of the sofa. “Eat up, girl. And don’t you leave no crumbs.”

Vivi stared at the tray. Two croissants oozed dark chocolate onto a white plate. There was also a glass of milk.

Sabine glanced up at Lena. “Are you bleeding from any orifice?”

“Like hell.” Lena snorted.

Vivi folded her arms. She studied Lena’s nose and ears but didn’t see any blood. She had the feeling she’d missed a private joke between the women.

Other books

Troll Blood by Katherine Langrish
Arc D'X by Steve Erickson
Pallas by L. Neil Smith
Leaning Land by Rex Burns
Writing Movies For Fun And Profit! by Lennon, Thomas, Garant, Robert B