9
DRAYNOR
The day dawns with a brilliant sun that warms the hair atop my head and soaks my flesh in heat — the motorcycle glints between my legs. The stones on the driveway gleam.
“You can be out in the daylight?” she asks, glancing over her shoulder as Silas follows her from the house.
Humans. “Of course,” Silas says.
I have no idea where that notion came from. Every other apex predator from the big cats in the forest to the soaring birds of prey have no issue with sunshine. What sense would it make for evolution to choose sunshine as the mode for our destruction? But humans need to believe there is an easy way to destroy us — it makes them feel less afraid. I have often gotten the sense that when they look at us, they see things they would rather ignore. The possibility of death wit
