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  “No, we’ll both go. It needs to come directly from me,” the Rev said.

  “In that case, you don’t need us,” Severn said. “I’ll stay here with Riley, then get her home. Keep me posted via text, okay?”

  “Okay,” they said in unison.

  “Good luck with the girls and try to keep them grounded.”

  The Rev and Aiden left us, their exit shadowed by the guard who followed them out the door.

  “Did we jump the gun calling Finn?” I asked when they were out of hearing range. “Have we dragged them all this way for nothing?”

  “Maybe. I will feel pretty bad if we have. The Rev is going to be really angry with me because he’s the boss and I have completely distrusted him and undermined his authority. I think Seven has just dropped himself back to the bottom of the kicking pile.”

  “When I get out of here, should we drive out to the airport and meet Finn and Martin?”

  “Hmm. I should take you home but yeah, why not. If we are stuck here much longer, they will have touched down. But only if you’re up to it and the doctor says it’s okay. You wouldn’t rather go home and get some sleep?”

  “Compromise. You drive to the airport, I’ll sleep in the car. You can wake me when they arrive.”

  Chapter 24

  The doctor had other ideas. When I was finally seen, I was run through a series of tests, asked lots of questions and sent for an x-ray. After another long wait, I was wheeled into a different room and told I had to stay there for several hours until they were sure I wasn't concussed. Severn wanted to stay but I told him to call Mum then sent him away. Meeting Finn and Brother Martin was more important. A nurse had given me painkillers and all I wanted to do was sleep, so Severn agreed to collect me in a few hours, if Mum didn’t get there first.

  When they finally released me and I walked out the hospital door, the dawn was breaking. I had spent the last few hours trying to sleep but being woken at regular intervals by nurses asking me what was my name, who was the Prime Minister – dumb but necessary questions to make sure my brain was functioning. Mum must have arrived at some stage as she was sitting beside me, but I must have been asleep as I didn’t see her arrive.

  Eventually the doctor reappeared, declared me not concussed and signed my release papers, freeing Mum and I to go home and find some decent coffee.

  “Where did Severn go?” Mum asked as we drove eastwards. “I expected him to be glued to your bedside.”

  “He needed to go to the airport,” I said. “Finn and Brother Martin should be here by now.”

  “I imagine they have a lot to discuss, so let’s leave them to it and just worry about you. What happened?”

  I spent the rest of the drive home filling Mum in on the evening, starting with the dramatic arrest of the cricketer. My description of Mic Ten’s attack on the policewoman got a typical Mum reaction – she was more concerned about who would sing the woman’s high soprano notes in tonight’s show than about the fate or condition of Mic Ten.

  “But how did you get injured? Were you in the middle of it all?” she asked.

  I explained about the rally becoming a panic and how I had been crushed against the wall as the crowd surged forwards, then hit in the face by a crazy woman. When I told her the policeman had thought we were National Front, she laughed but I could see she was horrified at the same time and that amused me. Her daughter dabbling in extreme politics was a shocking thought, but hanging out with vampires was okay.

  As soon as we arrived home I headed for the shower to wash away the blood that was sticking to my hair in matted clumps. I looked at myself in the mirror and immediately understood why the policeman had been so insistent I go to the hospital. I looked like a zombie. My blood-soaked hair was sticking out in bloodied dreads around the large bandage a nurse had applied, and more blood had trickled in rivers down my neck and over my face onto my clothes. My left eye was swollen shut, the surrounds dark and purple. A tentative feel of my head where the bandage was told me it hurt. How was I going to wash off the blood without opening the wound again? I called Mum for help.

  Mum found a stool and sat me in the shower, gently washing my hair with warm water, then applied a new dressing and bandage and bundled me into my pyjamas. I was snuggled on the couch in a rug, listening to Mum scrubbing the blood off my blacks, when Severn arrived, by himself.

  “Did you meet Finn and Martin?” I asked after I had assured him I didn’t feel as bad as I looked.

  “Yes. We had a long talk. About a lot of stuff.”

  “Where are they? Have they gone to the motel?”

  “No. We found a quiet corner at the airport and talked there. I showed them the video of the girls and Aiden flying over the cathedral and they were not impressed. I told them everything that happened last night at the rally and I stressed that Aiden had done a good job keeping the girls from doing anything stupid. Aiden might be an idiot, and he doesn’t always think things through, but under all that bravado there’s a good guy. I mean, anyone who would willingly turn into a vampire to help his sister must have a good heart.”

  “Did you tell them about the offer the Rev was going to make to the girls?”

  “Yes, and I apologised if I had overstepped the Rev’s authority and brought them here needlessly if the Rev had it under control. Brother Martin made a rather derogatory comment about the Rev’s ability to control anything and told me some news he is planning on delivering to the Rev later today. David might own the monastery, but he’s about to be demoted as Grand Master. They think they were hasty in offering him the position and Brother Martin is carrying a warrant officially relinquishing him of the title.”

  “Why did they make him Grand Master in the first place?” Mum had overheard the last part of our conversation. “Was it just because he owns the land?”

  “I asked the same question,” Severn replied. “It’s because he’s a father, not just a brother.”

  “What’s the difference?” I asked.

  “The monks who joined the order to be monks are brothers but if they are actually ordained as a priest, they are a father, and apparently that’s the way the Guild has always run. The Grand Master has always been an ordained priest. David was the only one who hadn’t had a turn at being Grand Master, so they gave him the job because none of the others wanted it back.”

  “Is he really an ordained priest?” Mum asked. “Seriously? I thought that Rev thing was just a joke.”

  “Nope. No joke. He is really the Reverend Father David Rochester. Well, actually, the Reverend Father Daveed – to pronounce it correctly – Rocheforte, the Rochester is his anglicised version for outside the monastery.”

  “When are they going to tell him?” I asked.

  “Tonight. They’re vampires. Unlike me, they’ve never got the hang of daylight. They’re going to hole up somewhere and sleep all day. Finn said they are going to come to the show tonight and watch, because Finn loves theatre and is missing being backstage, but without being seen as they don’t want Aiden or the Rev to know they’re here until afterwards. I have to get us all together after everyone else has left, then they will get all formal and Brother Martin will take over and start giving orders.”

  “How are they going to deal with the girls? They’re not going to be at the show.”

  “They were the other night, creeping around in the bushes. Fortunately, dealing with them is not going to be my problem. I am more than happy to let Brother Martin and Finn handle them. I’m more worried about you. And I’m being completely selfish when I say that. If you’re not okay, I’m going to have to handle both desks by myself, so you’d better be up and raring to go by show time. I don’t want to have to deal with the musicians. I hate musicians.”

  “Don’t say that around Anita and Caleb,” I said. “He’s just been accepted into the Youth Orchestra with his violin. And Anita plays the flute.”

  “Okay, I’ll modify that. I only hate musicians who bump my microphones and who want their vol
ume turned up. I don’t hate all musicians. Flutes are okay. I like flutes. And bagpipes. I love bagpipes. I’ve been tempted to get a set and play them from the monastery roof. A haunting piobaireachd or two would stir up the locals on a full moon.”

  “What’s a peebrock ? Can you really play the bagpipes?”

  “A sad tune and yes, believe it or not, I can. I’m from Scotland, remember?”

  “Pity you can’t fly and play the bagpipes at the same time,” Mum said. “Imagine what the demon hunters would make of that.”

  Severn laughed. “It’s hard enough to co-ordinate breathing, pumping and fingering all at the same time without adding wing flapping and staying airborne. I think I’ll pass on trying that.”

  Mum got serious. “Severn, if Riley is going to make it to the show tonight, she needs some rest. Much as we love your company, you need to disappear and let her have a few hours’ sleep. Off to bed, young lady.”

  Severn kissed me goodbye and I did as Mum ordered, drifting off to sleep almost immediately. When I woke up again, it was mid-afternoon. My head still ached but I felt strong and energetic, ready and willing to handle my share of the show’s workload. I dressed in the freshly laundered blacks that Mum had laid on the end of my bed, brushed my hair carefully around the glaring white bandage and stared at my garish reflection in the mirror. At least I didn’t have to go on stage.

  In the kitchen, Mum handed me a coffee and pointed to the newspaper on the table. The famous cricketer was now infamous, his arrest in handcuffs making banner headlines. The accompanying photograph was a slightly burred shot from someone’s phone but a note under it directed us to page three which held a montage of other photos showing the preaching, the praying and the panic in glorious technicolour. There were no vampires in any of the pictures.

  Chapter 25

  My pack-in at the show was a lot slower than normal as I had to pause every few minutes to repeat the explanation for my black eye. At least the bandage was hidden under my beanie. I kept my answers simple, only giving a full explanation to the stage manager who wanted to be sure I was well enough to be on the crew. When I told her what had happened she slapped me lightly on the back.

  “Good on you, I like your attitude. The show must go an and all that. You’ll be right. Worse things happen at crew parties.”

  Mic Ten Wearer had made it to the show too. When I had survived the men’s barrage of questions about my black eye, I found the women’s dressing room about to erupt into an argument. Mic Ten was holding court about her treatment in the cells overnight and how despicable the police were to arrest her when she was attending a peaceful prayer meeting, while her friends were still raving about the demons and saying how brave she had been to stand up for the rights of her church group. Mum, Heidi McCormack and some of the other ladies were desperately trying to carry on with their usual backstage routines and ignore them, but I could feel the rising tension as I entered with their microphones.

  I have a lower garbage tolerance than my mother. I had tucked microphone ten into the ranting woman’s belt pack and was running the wire up her back when yet another comment about the evil demons, combined with the raspy tone of her voice that did not help my nagging headache, flicked my anger switch.

  “At least the demons didn’t punch anyone in the face, attack any police or carry a bag full of petrol bombs. That was all you lot. Peace, love, prayer and petrol bombs. Praise the Lord!”

  A round of applause started by Heidi followed me as I turned and walked away, holding my head as high as I could. In the stunned silence, I heard Mum and Heidi take over, ordering the trouble-makers to be quiet and cajoling the others to ignore them.

  “How are they back there?” the stage manager asked as I passed her station.

  “Still in demon mode,” I said. “But I either just shut it down or made it worse. Hope it wasn’t the latter.”

  With a smile that was anything but benign, the stage manager put down her headphones and stood up.

  “I’d better go and give them my nightly get-your-act-together talk, then. Fifteen minutes to beginners.”

  I got back to my tower and climbed to my desk to find it covered in a bunch of flowers and three bars of chocolate. The flowers were obviously stolen from the nearby gardens and had been tied together by gaffer tape. The note taped to it had a large hand-drawn heart and was signed by Danny and Cameron. I could see them watching me from the top of their tower so I waved and blew them a kiss.

  “The chocolate is from Aiden,” Severn told me when he arrived a few minutes later. “He feels bad that you got hurt because of something his sister started.”

  “Thanks, Aiden,” I said, knowing he would hear me.

  I picked up my pen and wrote ‘any sign of Finn?’ on the corner of my script. Severn shook his head. I shrugged – an unspoken gesture to show I was willing to accept that I didn’t know what was going on - and we settled in to wait for the call to start the show. My headphones did not help my headache. They were the kind we preferred, with only one ear covered by a padded cushion, but I couldn’t swap the cushion to my other ear, on the side of my head that hadn’t connected with a wall, as that put the attached microphone at the wrong angle, and having the unpadded piece of band that held the headphones on digging into the injured side of my head was just as painful. I fiddled with the placing of the cushion and finally slid my left hand underneath it to hold it away from my ear, hoping I could work the board with just my right hand.

  By the end of the show, I was exhausted, aching, and a bit nauseous. Mum wanted to scoop me up and take me home to bed, but she knew what was going to happen and understood that I wanted to be there, no matter how bad I was feeling. With a warning to be careful, she left me packing up the equipment and went home with Grant. I thanked Danny and Cameron again for the flowers, kissed them both on the cheek, which made Cameron blush, and waved as they drove away. Now it was just us, just me and a pack of vampires, alone in the dark.

  “Did you manage to put your offer to Meredith and Olivia?” Severn asked the Reverend.

  “Yes, I did. We caught up with them. They were still at the nightclub. I made my offer and they countered by asking for two houses, one in Paris and one in New York, and a larger allowance than I had anticipated. I agreed to both and they agreed to consider it. In fact, they said they would meet us here tonight to let me know their decision.”

  “I didn’t trust them,” Aiden said. “They agreed too easily. While you were speaking, Rev, I was watching the looks they were giving each other. I don’t know. My twin vibe was picking up something from Meredith. I just don’t know what.”

  “As long as they agree to pack up and get out of here, I don’t care what else is on their agenda,” the Rev said.

  “Two houses and an allowance, which will go on forever?” Severn asked. “Can the Guild afford that? Don’t you have to get that approved?

  “I’m not asking the Guild to afford it,” the Rev replied. “I’m funding this myself, out of my own pocket. I already own property in both cities and I can afford their lifestyle as I don’t spend much on my own. I figure it’s the least I could do. If I had done better with Seth, none of this would have happened.”

  “That’s dead right.” Finn’s voice came from behind the trees.

  Aiden rushed forwards to hug his father as the two newcomers emerged but the Rev stood his ground, folding his arms tightly against his chest, his body language defensive.

  “Brother Martin,” he said, his clipped speech reflecting his suspicion. “What brings you here. Or rather, who brought you here?” He glared at Severn who remained impassively poker-faced.

  “I brought us here, at Finn’s request,” Brother Martin replied, his delicate French accent softening the authority behind his voice. “He watches the news while you are here. He knows the girls have come here also. He sees the pictures. He asks my advice. So we come. This is not a good thing that is happening. We cannot allow it.”

  I was relieved
to hear them cover for Severn. No mention at all of our desperate phone call. The Reverend blustered.

  “It’s under control. It was unfortunate but I’ve got it sorted. We’ve only got two more days here anyway. Riley’s show finishes tomorrow night. You’ve had a wasted trip.”

  “No, I do not think so,” Brother Martin said. “It is not under control and nothing has been under control for quite some time. We have much to discuss. The council has already been in discussion as they are full of concern. It is good that you have made an offer to control the two girls and we hope that they will accept it, but whether they do or they do not, there is more we need to address.”

  Severn put his arm around me and drew me back a couple of paces away from the group. I could feel his muscles twitching as his protective hunting mode kicked in. I looked across at Finn and Aiden, standing side by side. Finn had his arm around Aiden’s shoulder offering fatherly support but his straight back suggested he, too, was on the alert as Brother Martin pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to the Rev. I held my breath.

  The Rev read the document, held it up to show us and burst into a raucous cackle of laughter.

  “I’ve been demoted,” he said, a wide grin stretching across his face. “Brother Martin, that is the best news I have had for a long time.”

  “You are not disappointed? You are not angry?” Brother Martin asked, incredulous.

  “No, not at all, quite the contrary,” the Rev replied. “I hate the job. I am hopeless at it. There are at least six other men far better suited to it than I am. This is such a huge relief. I was wondering how I could give it up. I was going to call an emergency meeting next week, when I’m back at the monastery, and beg you guys to let me quit. Oh, thank you, thank you, a thousand times thank you.”