Blood Exposed Read online

  “Plus it will mean we can branch out into more events like this convention,” I added.

  “Loving the ‘we’ in that sentence. You’re thinking like one of us already.”

  “The convention is only a fortnight away,” I said, returning to the practicalities and not wanting to dwell on whether I was, or was not, going to turn into a vampire. “Even if we buy all the stuff online tonight, will it get here in time?”

  “It will if I use the Guild’s express delivery service. I’ll find everything we need, email the list to the Rev and he and Aiden can make a quick trip around Europe to collect it all, load it in the plane and fly over here. We’ll need them anyway, if we’re going to work all three rooms at once.”

  My mind jumped back a couple of sentences. “What is the Guild’s proper name? It’s obviously not the Traveller Technicians and it can’t be anything as obvious as the Ancient Guild of Hungry Vampires, so what is it? I should know if I’m going to join it.”

  “I don’t know if it’s got a name,” Severn replied. “The monastery’s got a name, the Mountain of Angels, but I think the word ‘guild’ has always been more of a description than a title. I think the Rev coined it as a term to include all the vampires, even when they’re not at the monastery. I think he just liked it as a term, thought it sounded better than, I don’t know, pack or horde.”

  “It needs a name. We can’t be a guild without a name. I’m going to think of one.”

  “And a logo. We’ll need a logo that we can all get tattooed on our shoulders.”

  “Can vampires get tattoos? Doesn’t the ink just heal over and disappear?”

  “I don’t know, I’ve never thought about getting one. Finn’s got one that he got before he was changed, and it’s still there. I guess we won’t know until we try.”

  “But you were joking, about tattooing a logo?”

  “Was I?” Severn gave me one of his annoyingly sly grins as he turned out of Opawa into Aldwins Road.

  We drove back to the unassuming motel room that Severn and the others had hired when they rushed from France to help me out after the Mad Hatters Theatre Company had dumped their entire sound department on me for a show and expected me to know what I was doing. When it finished, the Reverend and Aiden had flown back to the monastery in the south of France so the Rev could hand over his unwanted title of Grand Master of the vampire guild and Aiden could bury his sister, but Severn had stayed with me in Christchurch, desperate for some solitude. For the first time in over a hundred years, he wasn’t bound to do what the other vampires wanted him to do and he was enjoying the freedom to walk the streets at night, making his own decisions about his future. Our future, if my decisions coincided with his.

  The motel room was much tidier than when Aiden had been there. That was another tick in Mum’s box of approval for Severn as my boyfriend, even though she knew about his fangs and wings. He was tidy and that was good enough. The small dining table beside the tiny kitchenette now contained a flash new laptop – the first thing Severn had bought when the others had gone. As I made us both coffee that tasted like coffee, not the lethal concoction Ngaire had served us, Severn tapped his phone to turn on its wifi hotspot and began shopping.

  I wrapped my arms around him and watched over his shoulder while he clicked through several websites, copying photos, specifications and prices onto a spreadsheet. When he was satisfied he had everything we could possibly need, right down to cable adaptors and rolls of gaffer tape, he emailed the spreadsheet to the Rev accompanied by a lengthy explanation and an exhortation to make it fast.

  “I don’t expect he’ll see that for a few hours yet – it will be late morning over there so they’ll still be asleep. Any suggestions of what we can do while we wait?” He spun in his chair and pulled me close, kissing me softly along the side of my neck.

  I straddled his legs to sit on his lap with my arms still clasped around him and tilted my head to the side, exposing my neck. He touched my face, his fingers slowly pushing back my long hair. His tongue flicked over my skin. I moved my hands to push his head back so I could watch the transformation as his eyes brightened and his fangs descended.

  “Bite me.”

  Severn leant forwards, his fangs running along my skin, searching for the vein. I arched my neck. Severn’s phone rang. He uttered an animal growl and pulled away, his fangs still out as he yanked the phone from his pocket and answered. I could tell by his replies that the caller was the Reverend, so I kissed Severn on his forehead and moved away, letting him spin his chair back to his computer. So much for the vampires in France still being asleep.

  Severn switched the phone to speaker so I could be included, but they got technical about the equipment Sev wanted the Rev to buy and, even though I knew I needed to learn this stuff, I quickly lost track of what they were talking about, until I realised the Rev was convincing Sev to set up a completely new business, separate from the Guild.

  “The business would need a name,” I said as Severn ended the call.

  We thought for moment.

  “What about VAMP,” Severn suggested.

  “For vampire?”

  “Capital letters - V.A.M.P. Vampires from Angel Mountain ... hang on, I’m stuck on P ... partnership? Professionals?”

  “Pathetic? I know, drop the V. Call it AMP – everyone will assume it’s for amplifier but it’s really Angel Mountain Professionals.”

  “I like that. AMP it is.” Severn swivelled around in his chair and held out his hand. I took it and we gave each other a formal handshake. “Angel Mountain Professionals, we are in business.”

  “Angel Mountain Professionals?” Mum repeated when I told her the news over a late breakfast the next morning. “You should get crew shirts with that embroidered on them to wear when you are doing this medieval event.”

  “Yeah, we should. Not the whole name though, just the initials, AMP.”

  “Put a halo on top of the A, so it looks like an angel.”

  “And make the two peaks of the M different heights so they look a bit like a mountain. I’ll suggest it.”

  “Sounds good to me.” Severn’s voice came from the front door. “Sorry, I heard you as I was coming up the path. I bring offerings.” He placed a bag on the table and ripped it open to display a variety of fresh donuts. “I like the logo idea. I’ll send some instructions to Brother Bertrand in the monastery printing press and see what he can do with it.”

  “A monk? To design a business logo?” Mum said, “Are you sure he’s the right person?”

  “You’d be surprised,” Severn replied. “Brother Bertrand started off as a cleric, illuminating manuscripts in the monastery library. After six hundred years going from quill pens and homemade inks to his latest offset printer, the man has acquired some serious skills. His passports have fooled every immigration officer in all the countries we’ve been to and his money was pretty good until they started imprinting holograms. He’s working on that.”

  “I’ll help spend any money he prints,” Mum said.

  “Mother!” I was genuinely shocked. My mother was that easily tempted into crime?

  “I like spending money. It’s fun and it’s good for stress relief.”

  I didn’t want to know where this conversation was heading. I needed to change the subject, fast.

  “Why are you up this early in the day, anyway? I asked. “Why am I guessing you’ve been up all night, hunting? Is that safe by yourself?”

  “Yeah, safe enough. I’m the skilled one of the group, remember? But yes and no. Yes, I have been up all night but no, I haven’t been hunting. I called the Rev back and we finished organising all the gear we will need for Ngaire’s event, then I did all the online paperwork to register Angel Mountain Professionals as a limited liability company.”

  “That was fast. Will the company make you completely separate from the Guild?”

  “Yes, for business anyway. We will be completely on our own. Except for the plane. We still get use of the G
uild’s jet whenever we need it. A registered company is going to make it a lot easier for all the day-to-day stuff. People ask fewer questions if they think you are just a hired hand working your day job. We’re all stuck looking too young to be working for ourselves. The company name will be a good protection from questions we don’t want to answer.”

  “All you need now is the logo,” Mum said.

  “Yeah,” Severn yawned as he spoke, then apologised. “Sorry, I need to get some sleep. I hope you didn’t need me for anything today. I think I’ll go back to the motel, lock my door, pull the curtains and hope the cleaner doesn’t let herself in while I’m asleep.”

  I threw Mum a quizzical glance and she nodded her agreement without me having to explain.

  “Stay here,” I told Severn. “Use my room. We won’t disturb you. I’m going out anyway. I want to catch up with Anita. There’s more to this stolen money than Ngaire told us. She and Caleb were trading glances yesterday while you were calculating what gear we would need. I’m sure they know who took the money and I’m betting Caleb wanted to tell us but Ngaire wouldn’t let him. I’m going to talk to them on their own and see what I can find out.”

  “Okay, thanks. You’re right, there is something going on but just remember, it’s not our problem. We don’t have to fix it. It’s not in our job description.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know that. I’m just being nosy.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Severn was already asleep in my bed as I dragged my bicycle out of the garage and pedalled over to Anita’s house. With every push of the pedals against the head wind, I was imagining the day I could sit my restricted driver’s licence, ditch my bike and drive anywhere I liked without Mum beside me. Only a few more weeks to wait. At least the wind was an easterly, cool enough to stop me melting under the summer sun.

  Anita was sitting on her bed, surrounded by her usual assortment of toy rabbits, sewing tiny pearl beads onto her velvet dress with meticulous precision and patience I would never have. I would have used a hot glue gun.

  “That’s looking good,” I said as I dumped my bike helmet and jacket on her floor and climbed onto the bed beside her.

  “Mmm,” she answered, her concentration on the minute stitches.

  “I’ve come for the goss.” I got straight to the point. “What’s the buzz behind the stolen money? I could see Caleb wanted to tell us more but Ngaire shut him down. What is she not telling us?”

  Anita finished the stitch, tucked the needle safely into the fabric and put her sewing aside.

  “I don’t know if I should tell you. Ngaire’s trying to keep it under wraps for as long as possible.”

  “But you know, don’t you?” Anita nodded. “Come on, you know I won’t tell anyone, except Severn maybe, and it does affect us. That was the money we were supposed to be getting paid with. Have you got any idea how much money we are losing by doing this gig for free?”

  “A couple of hundred dollars?”

  “Yeah, right! Add another zero. And that’s if we keep it simple. I know Sev won’t say this, he’s too polite, but he’s spending a shedload of his own money doing this for free. I think it’s only fair we should know what’s going on. Has the money even been stolen? Or is that just a story to cover the fact that they haven’t got any to start with?”

  “Oh no, they had the money. I can guarantee that. It’s a long story.” Anita rearranged the pillows behind her, wriggling until she was comfortable. “They’ve been planning this event for a couple of years so they’ve been saving up. They’ve done all the usual fund-raising stuff - sausage sizzles, quiz nights, musical evenings – and they applied for help from some community funding places. It’s the funding money that’s been stolen.”

  “How did that happen? Wasn’t it in their bank account?” I asked.

  “That’s the whole problem. No, it wasn’t. Well. It was until a couple of weeks ago. The society’s bank account has got three signatories and two of them are needed for every transaction. That works fine most of the time but, so Ngaire says, it gets too hard when they have an event because so many little things have to be bought and paid for at the last minute and it’s too hard for them to keep running around to get signatures. Also, if you write a cheque, a lot of places either won’t accept it or they charge extra to process it. It was easier for them to withdraw money in cash in the last few weeks before a big event.”

  “So who held the cash? Surely it’s just as much hassle, and no quicker, to go to someone to collect cash as to go and collect a signature?”

  “That’s what I said. But Ngaire was quick to correct me. She insisted it was all well organised. The treasurer would get the money out of the bank then they would have a meeting and each committee member would sign for their share. At each meeting, each person had to present a report and the receipts for what they had bought and at the end of the event, all the receipts had to tally and any remaining cash went back into the bank.”

  “I’m still not seeing how they lost any, then.” I picked up a toy rabbit and stroked its long, purple ears. “If everyone had to sign for their share, they must know who had the missing money.” I wound the rabbit’s floppy ear around my finger, trying to remember what Ngaire had said that didn’t fit with what I was hearing. I replayed Ngaire’s words in my head and had wound the poor rabbit’s ear right down to its head when it clicked. “Hang on, Ngaire said they are missing ten thousand dollars. That’s not petty cash for last-minute purchases. That’s huge.”

  “Yeah. You’re right.” Anita picked up a rabbit of her own and fiddled with the polka-dotted bow that hung around its neck. “From what I’ve gathered, they took out a lot more than they usually would because the event is so big. It was something to do with the stables and the horses for the jousting. I don’t go to their meetings and neither does Caleb, but they hold them at Caleb’s place and he said he heard them arguing about it. A couple of them wanted to wait for the invoices and write cheques but some of the others got really angry. Caleb said there was a lot of shouting.”

  “Why would they get angry? I know from our theatre group that you can’t spend company money without an invoice, and you have to get a receipt too or the treasurer throws a hissy fit.”

  “And Caleb’s dad is the treasurer so he was throwing a hissy fit. Trouble is, more than one of them threw bigger ones. For all Ngaire is pretending it’s a big, happy family having a fantastic time, Caleb says the committee meetings have just been giant arguments for the last few weeks. The stress is getting to all of them.”

  “I’m still not getting it though. Even if they were silly enough to take ten thousand dollars out of the bank in cash, they must know who had it last. Did it get stolen from someone’s house?”

  “Unfortunately, it’s not that simple, and this is why Ngaire doesn’t want to talk about it. In a way, it’s her fault. Like I said, the committee meetings are at their house but they hire a local hall for the club’s monthly meetings. It’s a whole afternoon of craft stuff inside and mock fighting out in the carpark, then in the evening they have a meal and music. At the last one they decided to hold a committee meeting as well. Ngaire thought that was the perfect time to allocate the money so she persuaded Gerald, Caleb’s dad, to take the cash box, with the whole ten thousand dollars inside it.”

  “And it got stolen,” I finished Anita’s sentence for her.

  “From Gerald’s bag.”

  “Did they call the police?”

  “Huh!” Anita blew out a snort crossed with a laugh. “Don’t let Caleb hear you ask that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because Ngaire refused to. And the others backed her. Only one of them voted to call the police.” Anita wriggled herself more upright against her pillow and swapped her rabbit for a bigger one. “Apparently it was all about not ruining the convention.”

  “Not ruining the convention?” My mother shook her head in disbelief when I told her and Severn the story over a late-night supper when Severn had finally w
oken up and emerged from my room.

  “Yep. They figured the thief had to be one of the club members, as no-one else came into the hall. If they called the police, everyone would start accusing everyone else and their big convention would be ruined, so they collectively decided to shut up.”

  “And let someone get away with ten thousand dollars. That’s the most illogical logic I’ve ever heard. Doesn’t it bother them that one of their members stole from them? I know I would want to find out who it was and get them out of my theatre group, quick smart, if that happened to us. I would be dragging the police in and standing over them until they arrested someone.”

  “I can see why the committee would vote to keep the police out.” Severn twisted his coffee mug in his hands and waited to see which of us would react first. I fell for it.

  “Why? I can see why you wouldn’t want the police but none of them have wings.”

  “You tell me why,” he said, the top lip on one side of his mouth lifting into a tiny self-satisfied grin. “Who is not going to want the police involved?”

  “The thief,” Mum answered.

  “That’s my bet,” Severn nodded. “If all but one of the committee voted to keep the police out, then all but one of the committee might be guilty.”

  “Even Ngaire?” I asked.

  “Even Ngaire. If I were the police, she’d be suspect number one. She’s the one who suggested taking the money that day. They could have held a private meeting at their house. There didn’t seem to be any good reason to take that much money to an insecure place with so many people around. Sorry, but she’s at the top of my suspect list.”

  “Who else is on the list?” Mum asked me. “How many are on the committee?”

  “I’m not sure. Anita didn’t say. I only know about Ngaire and Caleb’s dad, Gerald. She’s the president and he’s the treasurer, although they don’t call themselves that, they have some fancy medieval titles.”

  “I guess we’ll find out when we meet them at the convention,” Severn said. “Then we can find out which one of them stole the money, get it back and get paid for the gig.”