Blood Exposed Read online

  “I feel a bit mean leaving Anita. She’s going to be worked off her feet,” I said as Severn swung the van towards Riccarton.

  “Don’t worry, tomorrow she’ll be the one wandering around enjoying herself and you’ll be the one running everywhere,” Severn replied. “You’re going to be the gofer. I’m taking the main conference room, the Rev’s handling room two where the smaller historic panels and the scratch-modelling are going to be, and Aiden’s in charge of room three with the gaming stream, the writers, and the musicians. You’ll be stationed with me in the main room but if any of us need anything, you’ll be the one racing between venues or running upstairs to fetch it. Okay?”

  “Okay, boss. Anything you say, boss.” I threw him a salute with just a touch of raised middle finger.

  “They’re an odd bunch of people, aren’t they,” Aiden said from the passenger seat behind Severn. “I thought some of the theatre people we’ve dealt with have been strange but this lot remind me of the travelling circus we were working in when you first joined us, Severn.”

  “What? Bearded ladies and two-headed midgets?”

  “Hey, that midget was a cool dude, when he wasn’t arguing with himself. But no, not that weird. But there are definitely some ... unique ... characters booking into the hotel. I wouldn’t want to be working the reception desk. I heard a few people bitching about other people and one woman was complaining loudly about everything.”

  “What about the ones who are already in costume?” the Rev added. “If those fashions are as uncomfortable as they used to be, I wouldn’t want to sit in an aeroplane seat for a few hours wearing any of them.”

  “Imagine coming through the metal detectors and scanners,” I said. “Their corsets must have set off every alarm.”

  Severn pulled the van into the mall’s rooftop carpark. We rode the escalator to the bottom where we separated – the Rev and Aiden going with Severn to buy the radios while I went in search of hot chips or a blueberry muffin. When I couldn’t decide, I bought both, plus two extra muffins as emergency food for later. Wishing I did have their extreme hearing and could catch their response, I muttered “meet you at the escalator” and made my way back through the lunchtime crowds. Would they have heard me among all the other noises? I wondered what the range on the radios would be. Would we even hear each other in the mall if we had those?

  I got to the escalator before the vampires and had finished my chips and started on my muffin before they arrived, Severn clutching a large bag and grinning the same happy-shopper grin my mother has when she’s been spending money. Severn and Aiden filled the drive back to the motel with an interminable conversation about the specifications of the radios but I needed some peace and quiet so, against his objections, I persuaded Severn to drop me at home where I drank coffee, relaxed, freshened up, drank more coffee and ate some real food that Mum pushed in front of me before I was picked up again a few hours later.

  “Ngaire wants us in the convention office suite by five thirty to meet the rest of the organising committee,” Severn said as I hoisted myself into the van. “At six, we should be in the main conference room just to keep an eye on the gear as the event kicks off with a cocktail hour. We shouldn’t have to do anything for that but there will always be someone who thinks they’re an expert and wants to play with the microphones or the desk, so hover in the corners and keep your eyes open. The actual grand opening starts at seven. Rev, I’m thinking we should put the spotlights on for that.”

  At the hotel, Severn nosed the van into a park at the far end of the staff area, under the shade of a huge oak tree. We checked our new radios and clipped them to our belts, then I double-checked my belt and looked at the others, trying to figure out what was missing. My maglight was attached to a belt loop by its retractable coiled cord, the Leatherman multi-tool that Severn had given me for my birthday was clipped behind my hip, and my radio hung between the two. It wasn’t until the Rev patted his own pockets I realised what was wrong – no ankle-length black coats, no spare cans of coke, no bars of chocolate. Well, no coats anyway as Aiden held up a supermarket bag.

  “Essentials supplies in here,” he said with a wide grin. “Chocolate is rationed.”

  The hotel foyer was crowded with people still arriving and others collecting their registration packs from a harassed-looking Anita seated behind the folding table they had set up earlier. Caleb was with her, rummaging through the boxes stacked behind them to find registration packs and handing them out as Anita crossed their names off a long list. Neither of them was in costume yet so I guessed they had been working hard all afternoon. I gave Anita a wave as I passed and got rolled eyes and a sigh as a response. Feeling sorry for her, I stopped Aiden, grabbed a chocolate bar out of his bag of supplies, wormed my way through the crowd at the table and slid the bar to Anita.

  “Feed the baby,” I said. “See you when you’re not busy.”

  I followed the others up the stairs, catching up with them as they paused outside Ngaire’s suite of rooms. We automatically configured ourselves in order of the new seniority – Severn at the front of the group instead of the back where he was when Seth led the vampires. I was the newbie at the back now. Severn lifted his hand to knock on the door then twisted his hand towards us to signal us to wait. I didn’t need to have vampire senses – even I could hear we were about to walk into an argument.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “Let it go!” a deep male voice shouted. “You’ll just have to put up with whatever you get. I can’t run backwards and forwards every hour just to sort you out.”

  “I need you to carry it,” a female voice pleaded.

  “Well, I’m not bloody going to. So tough luck!”

  Severn took a deep breath, grinned at us for encouragement, and knocked firmly on the door. With a small movement of his hand like he was conducting an orchestra, he counted two pulse beats to give those inside time to compose themselves, then opened the door. Five pairs of eyes turned to stare at us as we waited to be invited in, all showing a different emotional response to our arrival. I detected curiosity, flirtation, hostility, genuine welcome, and relief. The relief was Ngaire who rushed forwards to clasp Severn’s hand and lead us to the table they were gathered around.

  “Good evening,” Severn said, a slight bow of his head creating a subtle change in the body language of the committee. If first impressions do count, Severn’s old-fashioned manners had made him, and by association us, an instant hit.

  “Let me introduce you,” Ngaire gushed. “I’ll tell you our real names but for most of the weekend we will be using our re-enactment personae so I’ll tell you those as well. This is my husband, Gerald,” she indicated a tall, thin man with strikingly red hair sitting behind the table. As he stood up to hold out his hand to Severn, I tried not to stare but it was hard not to fixate on his beard – long, wiry, bright red and plaited with a multitude of coloured, wooden beads.

  “Harald Redbeard, Jarl of the Orkney Isles,” he said in what sounded to me like a real Scottish accent, although from the slight hint of a grin I saw Severn trying to conceal, I guessed maybe it wasn’t as authentic as Caleb’s dad hoped it was. “Lady Justinia, my lovely wife, says you are our saviours. I, for one, am very happy to have you here as my only skill with electrics is blowing things up and electrocuting myself. Welcome aboard.”

  Ngaire carried on clockwise around the table to indicate a slim woman in her thirties with brown hair that cascaded in flowing waves almost to her waist.

  “This is Abigail, Lady Gloria d’Arbanville.”

  Abigail Lady Gloria’s curtsy may have been demure but the simpering smile she swept across the men was voracious. Aiden showed a hungry touch of fang as he grinned an unspoken response. Severn merely nodded but I stepped closer to him to assert my possession. My boyfriend. Back off.

  Some of the hostility we had heard before we entered the room had faded from Rhys’s eyes by the time Ngaire introduced Madoc the Smith. He took Severn’s outstretched hand
but he still bristled, grunting with annoyance as Ngaire introduced the older, grey-haired woman seated beside him, a pair of modern hospital-supplied crutches looking out of place against her green and brown medieval tunic.

  “This is Rachel, Mistress Hildegarde of Thuringen. There is one other committee member, Rhys’s wife Donna, but she is busy with their children, so she won’t be here until their babysitter arrives.” Ngaire swung her arm to encompass us. “Guys, this is our technical team.”

  Severn gave another slight bow of acknowledgment to Ngaire. “Thank you, Lady Justinia. Allow me to introduce my team. My name is Severn Jura, that’s s. e. v. e. R. n, with a R like the river, not the number.” He turned to indicate us one at a time. “This is Aiden Wigmore, the Reverend Father David Rochester, and Riley Lowe. Riley will be our floating gofer, Aiden will be in convention room three, Father David in convention room two, and I will be in the main room. Lady Justinia explained to us about the personae, so collectively this weekend we are the Monks from Angel Mountain Monastery. If you need us and we’re not dressed like this, we will be the ones in the brown habits. If it’s to do with sound, or data projection, or needs plugging into electricity, we are here to make it run smoothly for you.”

  “I have a question about my workshops.” The older woman with the crutches spoke abruptly as if she was expecting the interruption that followed.

  “Let it go, Rachel!” Rhys thrust himself away from the table, paced to the window and returned to loom over her. She refused to back away, sitting straighter in her chair and defying him with a hostile glare.”

  “What’s your question?” Severn asked, his soft voice the perfect counter to Rhys’s barely-controlled anger.

  “My sewing machine,” Rachel replied. “I have two workshops tomorrow and two more on Sunday and, as you can see by these,” she held up a crutch, “I won’t be able to carry my sewing machine or set it up and I can’t leave it in the room between workshops or it will be in the road, or get stolen and I couldn’t bear that.” Her voice began to crack. “I don’t know what to do. I’ve put so much work into preparing for my workshops and now I don’t know how I’m going to manage.” She sniffed away an impending tear.

  “Oh, for f... heaven’s sake,” Rhys blustered. “You’re not the only one with valuable equipment and I’m not leaving my gear unattended just to run over here to carry your bloody sewing machine. You’re such a drama queen. Stop creating problems for everyone else.”

  Before she could reply, the Reverend moved to Rachel and rested a hand on her shoulder in a gesture of comfort.

  “Your workshops are in conference room two, aren’t they?” he asked. She nodded. The Rev looked straight at Rhys. “Then there isn’t a problem. You haven’t created a problem for anyone.” He paused, keeping eye contact with Rhys until the bigger man snorted in defeat and looked away. The Rev turned back to Rachel. “Your machine will be safe. I will be there all the time, or the room will be locked. Now, why don’t you and I meet after the opening ceremony, when things are less busy, and you can show me exactly what you need, We can figure out the best place to put your machine for your workshops and where we can put it when other talks are happening.”

  “There’s only one power point,” she said. “Rhys says it has to go there, even though it’s away from the window and the good light. He says running an extension cord is too dangerous, that someone will trip over it.”

  “No, it’s not a hazard if I tape it down.” The Rev directed his gaze to Rhys who stood, arms crossed and sulking, by the window. “This is what Severn meant when he said we are here to make things run smoothly. If a workshop needs anything from a sewing machine to a laptop, we will make it happen. If it needs to be plugged in, we will plug it in. If it needs to be moved, we will move it, If it’s really heavy, Aiden will move it.”

  The Rev’s weak joke made the committee laugh and the tension evaporated. Rachel reached out to clasp her hands over the Rev’s then raised one hand to genuflect the sign of the cross as she gazed at him with adoration.

  “Bless you, Father,” she said.

  Ngaire’s voice cut off the Rev’s automatic religious response.

  “Righto, guys. They will be opening the room soon for the cocktail hour, so we need to let our technicians go and do their job. And we need to finish getting our costumes on for our grand entrance. Riley, on your way down, could you please tell Caleb and Anita to join us up here.”

  With an imperious flick of her hand, we were dismissed like servants – Ngaire’s body language transforming her into Lady Justinia as she ushered us to the door, her abrupt change of manner compelling Aiden to tug a lock of hair on his forehead and mutter a sarcastic “thank-ee ma’am,” as she closed the door firmly behind us.

  “Well, that put us firmly in our place.” He made a rude gesture at the closed door. “The peasants are dismissed.”

  Severn put his hand on Aiden’s shoulder and led him away. “Calm your farm. She’s right. It’s time we were downstairs.”

  “Yeah, it was just her version of a beginners’ call. You wouldn’t dare give the fingers to a stage manager,” I said.

  “Yeah, true,” Aiden reluctantly agreed. “There are some weird vibes bouncing around between that lot, though. Did you guys pick them up?”

  “No,” I admitted. “Rhys is grumpy but that seems to be normal for him. He was grumpy when I met him this afternoon, too.”

  The Rev slapped Aiden on the back as they walked towards the stairs. “I can’t say I noticed but if Aiden says there were vibes then I’ll go with his judgment. He’s the one with the gift in that department.”

  “Keep your vibe radar tuned in, it could be useful,” Severn agreed.

  At the staircase I ran ahead of the others to find Anita and Caleb and deliver their summons to appear before Lady Justinia, warning them she had morphed into full ladyship mode and laughing at the looks of resigned horror on their faces, so I missed the rest of the vampire’s conversation as they descended, but I assumed it was about the committee by the Rev’s comment as I rejoined them outside the main conference room door.

  “So which one of those nut-bars stole the money?” the Rev was asking as he swiped the key card to let us in.

  “Rhys,” Aiden said at exactly the same time I said, “Abigail.”

  “My money’s still on Ngaire and Gerald.” I hoped Severn was just stirring and didn’t really believe what he was saying.

  “I’m just betting it wasn’t Rachel.” The Rev said. “She’s probably the one who wanted to call in the police. Miss Honesty, that one.”

  “If she was guilty, she’d tell you if you asked her to confess her sins,” Severn laughed.

  “I might try that later, when I show her the room and sort out her sewing machine, just to see what she says. In the meantime, brothers and sister, it is time to put away worldly thoughts and take upon ourselves the mantle of our religious forebears. In other words,” he pulled our monks robes from under the table that held our equipment and threw them at us, “get your gear on. It’s show time.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The cocktail hour bored me silly. When I heard ‘cocktails’ I expected a classy affair where people in designer clothes held champagne glasses with jewellery-laden fingers. The reality was a hundred people, a few in costume but most in jeans and dragon-emblazoned t-shirts, slurping cheap wine or fruit juice from plastic cups.

  The vampires were finding it difficult. So many people packed into one room, so many hearts beating at once. They should have fed first. Although I didn’t want to think about them going hunting later, I was bored standing in a corner, my monk’s hood pulled low over my eyes, my arms folded inside the wide sleeves, and guessing who their meal might be was a good way to pass the time. From her reaction upstairs, I figured Abigail would be a willing victim for Aiden but I also figured the Rev would stop him as she knew his name and that was dangerous. Severn would get an easy meal from the day manager who had lusted after him when we first a
rrived, but his shift had finished so he was safe for the night.

  The obvious victims were a pair of steampunk, goth computer geeks. I couldn’t work out their relationship to each other – they draped themselves over each other like a loved-up couple but looked so alike they could have been brother and sister. But that could have been the make-up – identical long, straight, black hair, whitened faces, black lips and eyes and multiple piercings. They each clutched a cup of white wine as they approached our corner, both full of questions about our sound desk and speakers. While Severn learnt that they were drama students, Aiden winked at the Rev behind their backs and licked his lips. They were definitely going to be supper.

  If they wanted to admire our little sound desk, I wanted to drool over their costumes. In his buckled and studded knee-high, black, leather boots over skin-tight, black, leather trousers, Kyle out-vamped the vampires. A black, silk shirt fell in graceful folds over a wide belt, a red, silk cravat round his neck matching the blood-red braiding on his military-cut jacket, its high-cut front unbuttoned to show off his shirt, its longer back nestling against the back of his thighs.

  A black, velvet top hat with customary steampunk goggles matched the identical one his partner – sister? girlfriend? – wore to complete her creation of black taffeta and silk. The lining of her heavily ruffled, can-can style skirt flashed red with every step – her chunky boots a perfect match for Kyle’s. Her jacket was soft, black velvet, covering a heavily boned corset that I didn’t envy at all – it might give her a ridiculously tiny waist and upthrust her bosom into the stratosphere but I preferred breathing and being able to slouch when I sat down. She said her name was Kristi, with a K, and showed us their matching interlocking-K tattoos on their necks. Just above her blood-red, fake vampire bites. I resisted the urge to show her my real ones.