Hunting Daylight (9781101619032) (5 page)

There’s one catch, though: Vamps and hybrids are allergic to each other.

Just to be clear, this is not a widely known fact. Jude says that many scientists haven’t made the connection,
mainly because hybrids are uncommon. A few years ago, a pharmaceutical company was doing research on this very subject, but its maniacal CEO, Harry Wilkerson, died in an Egyptian prison. His company went bankrupt. A fire wiped out his laboratory in Romania, and the research was scattered into the Carpathian Mountains.

I’m skimming over a lot of history, but I don’t allow myself to think about Wilkerson. Ever. As a result, few people know what lurks in a hybrid’s blood: an antigen.

A vampire will not have a physical reaction the first time he or she bites a hybrid; but the immortal’s super immune system will immediately start building antibodies to a hybrid’s antigen. The second bite will cause the vamp to suffer an allergic reaction. Small amounts of blood will cause respiratory distress, flushing, and hives. However, if the vampire drinks a lot of hybrid blood, it can cause a fatal anaphylactic reaction.

Conversely, vampires possess a neurotoxin that causes an allergic reaction in hybrids—if bitten, the hybrid will experience a fleeting numbness and paralysis. The vampy neurotoxin that causes trouble for hybrids is excreted in semen as well. Fortunately, when Jude was first transformed, his blood had zero toxins. It took a long time for them to build up in his system. That gave me time to develop a resistance to the neurotoxin. As Jude always said, “Hybrid-vampire immunity works on the same principle as allergy shots. But you were inoculated with a penis, not a needle.”

Now if I ever got attacked and bitten by a homicidal vampire—and they do exist—the vamp would turn blue and gasp for air, if, of course, he’d been exposed to my
antigens. Thanks to my resistance to the vamp neurotoxin, though, I wouldn’t go numb. It’s like a built-in defense system. Which would give me time to run.

However, the second time Jude bit me, I almost had to take him to the emergency room. We were so caught up in the moment that we forgot about the antigen in my blood or how it would affect him. At first, we didn’t know anything was wrong; after all, heavy breathing and flushed skin are symptoms of intense sexual arousal. But he was in mild anaphylactic shock. Until he developed antibodies to my blood, he took fifty milligrams of Benadryl prior to sex.

As the steamy water plunged into the tub, I rinsed the dried blood off my neck and gave silent thanks that Jude no longer required antihistamines.

Life is good
, I thought. But I wished he hadn’t taken that job.

Jude leaned back in the tub, and I rested against him. I traced my finger over his wedding band. We’d bought it when he was thinner. In recent years he’d filled out, and he couldn’t move the band over his knuckle. Not that he would try, but I missed seeing the inscription:
To J love the Lass.

“Do you remember the night we got married?” I asked.

“Every detail.” He put his arms around me. “We were in Monaco. Raphael must have bought a case of white rice. I think it’s still in my hair.”

“And mine.”

Jude wrapped my hair around his wrist. “I drove slowly down the road. Cars were honking and passing us.”

“But you had to drive carefully. The Moyenne Corniche is notoriously twisty. All those drop-offs.”

“It was a lovely night, wasn’t it?” Jude smiled. “Clear
and starry. You put a Sinatra CD into the player. A snappy tune—”

“‘Luck Be a Lady,’” I said, finishing his sentence, the way we so often did. “Perfect for romance on the Riviera, considering we’d just left the casino.”

“Until I tried to turn up the volume on the CD player,” he said. “But I accidentally pressed the wrong button and—”

“The sun roof zoomed open.”

He laughed. “Your veil flowed up and out of the car. It streamed through the darkness like an angel.”

“Or a tablecloth,” I said.

Jude hugged me closer. “Oh, Caro. I’m going to miss you.”

A trembly place moved in my chest. “Tell me about this expedition.”

“The Al-Dîn rep made me swear that I wouldn’t discuss it.” Jude’s mouth turned up at the edges, and I could tell that he was holding back a smile.

I traced my finger over his bottom lip. “But you’ll tell
me
everything, right?”

He playfully bit my finger. “It’s a scientific mission. Archaeologists, chiropterologists, a virologist, entomologist, microbiologist. Some of the scientists are already in the bush.”

I dropped my hand to his neck, feeling his pulse thump against my finger. “Doing what?”

“They’re looking for a way for vampires to walk in daylight.”

“Is that even possible?”

“Probably not. But Al-Dîn thinks so. Their archaeologists are studying the Lolutus—that’s an extinct tribe of day-walking vampires. I’ll be working with bats.”

“Seriously? You don’t have to leave home to study them.”

“Yes, but Al-Dîn isn’t paying me to analyze the DNA of loud, quarrelsome fruit bats. Apparently the team found a new species in Gabon, one that has the RH1 gene. Better known as the dim-light vision gene.”

“A what?”

“The bats we’re looking for aren’t nocturnal.”

“How can Al-Dîn afford to hire all of these experts?”

“Apparently, the corp owns diamond mines in South Africa. An expedition is spare change.”

I fell silent. The last few nights, I’d dreamed about bats, carnivorous fish, and flying wolves. Had those images also invaded Vivi’s dreams? Sometimes my dreams are laden with portents, but the imagery can be confusing. Jude usually talks me through them, but I didn’t want to worry him. He was leaving that night, facing God knew what in the bush.

I found the soap and began washing his chest, spreading bubbles along his black, glossy hairs. “What if I need to reach you?” I said. “Will your cell phone work in the jungle?”

“Al-Dîn advised me not to bring it. But they’ll issue a netbook. I’ll e-mail.”

I glanced away, hoping he hadn’t seen my quick frown, and put the soap in the dish. Our budget didn’t include wireless Internet, but the island’s motels and cafés offered
free Wi-Fi, so I could take our laptop to a hotel lobby or Café Companhia.

Jude splashed water over his chest. “Al-Dîn has your cell phone number if there’s a problem. I also gave them Father dos Santos’s number as a backup.”

“But he’s a local priest.” I turned back to him. “Shouldn’t you have given them Uncle Nigel’s number? Or Raphael’s?”

“Isn’t Nigel excavating relics in Ecuador? And Raphael would think I was mad. He’d arrive with a bucketful of money and ten thousand lawyers to get me out of this expedition.”

“You’re right.” I smiled, picturing Raphael. He was a charming blend of old-world ethics and modernity. No, he wouldn’t approve of Jude leaving me and Vivi for a day, much less a month.

“Nothing will go wrong.” Jude slid his palm over my midriff. “But if it does, don’t linger too long in São Tomé. Avoid seasonal places where vampires congregate. Don’t go to Peru in July. Spend the summer in Denmark. Raphael will help you. He understands the vampire culture better than both of us.”

My belly tightened as I remembered the toothed fish from my dream, and something else, something just beyond memory. I forced myself to smile. “Vivi’s already planning your welcome home party.”

“I won’t be late.” He pulled me on top of him, and we plunged under the water.

Jude spread his hands on the veranda railing and faced the ocean. Most of the time he couldn’t see the beach, but tonight it was illuminated by a full moon. A glittering wedge of light fanned across the water, and a tugboat moved across the horizon, leaving behind a foamy wake. Above it, frayed clouds spread across the sky like tire tracks.

He didn’t want to leave Caro and Vivi alone in São Tomé, but what else could he do?

He walked back inside the house and turned into his study. An old Tiffany lamp sat on his desk, and honeyed light spilled over heaps of books and papers. At the edge of his blotter he found a blue satin ribbon. It smelled like Caro, and a deep ache opened inside him. He tucked
the ribbon into his pocket, then opened his leather backpack. Caro had already added his rubber shoes, straight-leg pants, a drizzle-repellent jacket, insect spray, and moleskin strips for his heels. He squeezed in a map of the Birougou rain forest.

Then he sank down in his chair and cradled his head in his hands.

Too much to take
, he thought.
Too much to leave behind.

Footsteps pattered down the hall, and then Vivi appeared in the doorway, clutching a stuffed elephant. Her pink dress had been washed so many times, the pattern had faded. A trembly feeling caught the edges of Jude’s mouth, but he smiled around it.

“Hey, Meep,” he said.

Vivi put her finger in her mouth and grinned. She’d given herself that nickname when she was a year old and she started to imitate the noise. At first, Jude had thought she’d somehow seen reruns of Road Runner cartoons, but she had latched onto the
meep-meep
sound that emanates from electric carts in airports, the ones that transport ill and elderly passengers. Jude had begun calling her Meep, and the nickname had stuck.

She scooted to his desk, sliding her feet over the tile, and spread her arms, the elephant’s tusk dangling in her small hand. “Pick me up, Daddy.”

He lifted her—gosh, she was getting so big—and put her in his lap. She smelled like milk and buttered rice. As he smoothed her dark pigtails, she stared up at him. For a moment, he felt a curious sense of doubling, as if he’d looked into his own eyes—blue, with tiny brown chips in
the left iris.

“What’s up, Meep?” he asked.

“Bad dreams,” she said. “The awfulest ever. You got losted. Mommy was crying.” Her small hand flew away from the stuffed elephant and she clutched Jude’s arm, a surprising grip for a three-year-old.

“Remember what your mum and I told you? Dreams aren’t real.”

She let go of his arm and looked down at her knees, which poked up through the nightgown. Her long dark eyelashes fanned against her cheek like paintbrushes. “Why’re you going away?”

A sharp wire twisted in his stomach. “Don’t you want Daddy to work?” he said, keeping his voice light.

She glanced up, staring at him from under her eyebrows. “No. Don’t work.”

“I’ll be home soon.”

“Okay, Daddy.”

He exhaled, and the wire in his belly loosened. “Let me show you where I’m going.”

He shuffled through his bag, lifted a colorful map of Africa, and spread it across his desk. He put Vivi’s small finger on São Tomé Island. “You’re right here.”

“Uh-huh.” She nodded.

He slid her finger across the Gulf of Guinea, to the coast of Gabon, and angled down to the southeastern part of Gabon, near the Congo border. “And I’ll be here. In a rain forest.”

Vivi whispered the word to herself. “Will it have monkeys?”

“Sure. All kinds.” He turned back to the map and pointed to a mountain chain. “I’ll be in caves near the
Chaillu Massif. You know what caves are? They’re rocks—”

“Bad ones.” Vivi’s eyes widened. “Don’t go there.”

He was taken aback by the urgency in her voice. He lifted her stuffed animal and gave it a little squeak. “Do you want me to take pictures of real elephants?”

Vivi nodded. Then she sucked in air, pigtails trembling, and dove against his chest. Her shoulders shook violently, and a moment later, he felt a cool, wet place spread across his shirt.

“It’s all right, Meep,” he whispered, hugging her close. “It’s all right.”

She wrenched away, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her hand clamped down on his arm again, and a vein bulged on her forehead. “Don’t go.”

Jude’s head tipped back, as if someone had thrown an unripe guava in his face. A throbbing pain moved through his sinuses, and his ears popped.

A sick feeling washed over him. He turned sideways, put his elbows on the desk, and rested his face in his cupped hands.

“Daddy?” Vivi’s voice seemed to be coming from another room, yet he could feel her warm breath hitting his arm in sharp bursts.

Don’t worry, Meep. I’ll be fine in a minute
, he said, or thought he said.
Just a minute more, and I’ll be fine.

A drop of blood slid out of his nose and hit the map. He stared down incredulously.
What the hell.
He’d never had a nosebleed, not even when he’d been a kid. A second drop struck the map, then another and another, faster
and faster, as if dark red roses were blooming out of the paper.

Vivi slid off his lap, ran out of the room, and screeched for Caro. Jude pinched his nostrils, but the blood drummed onto the map. He was bleeding all over Africa.