Blood in the Wings Read online

  He seemed surprised when I started putting on my jacket.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To the theatre. I want to have a look round.”

  “Are you sure that’s safe?”

  “No, but I’m going to do it anyway.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I want to look at something.”

  “Ok, I’ll come with you.”

  “No you won’t. You are wanted by the police, remember? If I get caught I’m just being nosy, if you get caught, we’re both history. Anyway, you said you were tired. You stay here, I’ll be back in about an hour.”

  I checked my pockets - I had my maglight and Grant’s theatre key that I had borrowed from its hook in the kitchen - then I let myself quietly out of the back door, expressing thanks that the neighbour’s usually noisy dog was safely tucked away inside, grabbed my bike and pedalled furiously towards the city centre.

  There is one thing I don’t like about the theatre our company uses for its big shows - the area of town it is in, especially at night. It’s on a street full of takeaway shops and right next door to the theatre is the biggest of the city’s games arcades. It’s not so bad during the day but as soon as it gets dark anybody human disappears fast and the block is taken over by rival gangs and the tarty girls who hang out with them. The theatre crew sometimes get hassled by the gangs because they think that anyone in black clothes must be a skinhead. We usually have the show’s logo on our t-shirts but I guess gang members don’t read too well. They can’t be too smart, either, because most of the guys on the crew have muscles and you’d have to be really dumb to pick on someone who’s just hoisted several tonnes of equipment into place with his bare hands.

  But right now I was on my own with no hefty crew guys to save me, so I wasn’t taking any chances. I biked quickly into the alley and hid my bike behind the rubbish skip, then I walked as quietly as I could back down the alley till I found the special little door that only Grant and the Theatre Manager had a key to. Feeling a bit like an actress in a spy movie, I checked up and down the alley guiltily before turning the key in the lock and gently opening the door.

  I stepped onto the plush carpet of the richly curtained corridor that funnels audience from the foyer into the theatre itself, turned and carefully closed the door behind me.

  Listening for any sounds of police, I felt my way through the darkened theatre and up onto the stage. Once I was backstage I felt safer and switched on my tiny torch. My first stop was Tasha’s dressing room. She shared it with about ten others so I certainly didn’t expect to find anything like a note from the killer written in lipstick on the mirror, but that wasn’t what I was after. I sat on one of the hard wooden make-up stools for a while getting my bearings then wandered through to the communal bathroom. I was right. The fire exit door was where I expected it to be but by the powdery marks on it, the police forensic team had got there before me. I guessed what they had found. I wandered through the dressing rooms, rummaged through racks of costumes, pocketed a piece of paper I found in one of them and left.

  My next stop was the other side of the stage. I shone my torch down into the hole in the floor where Tasha’s body had been found. The ropes and pulleys were stained red with dried blood and flecks of what I suspected were, but sincerely hoped were not, pieces of flesh. I noted with a strange detachment that I didn’t feel sick or even emotional at the sight.

  My final stop was the fly tower itself. It’s a long haul up the huge ladder and it is strictly out of bounds for anyone except the flymen. Once or twice the stage manager or the mechanist has caught an actor climbing the ladder but the humiliation of having the stage manager screaming at them in front of their friends is usually enough to ensure they never do it a second time. I had never been up there and, in all honesty, I hadn’t wanted to. Looking up from the bottom is enough to put me off. I hated to think what it would be like at the top. I was about to find out.

  Gripping my torch in my teeth, I climbed slowly and determinedly, trying not to think about how far it was to the ground, till after what seemed like an eternity, I reached the relative safety of the tiny wooden platform. Grateful for the meagre handrail, I edged my way carefully along the platform till I had a full view of the stage. It was amazing. Down below, with my eyes now accustomed to the dark, I could see the set like a tiny dollshouse below me. The twin tanks of the rain truck stared up at me like giant unseeing eyes and all around me was a plethora of hemp and wire ropes. It was like being in the rigging of a sailing ship and all of a sudden the mechanist’s stories of how early theatres used sailors on shore leave as riggers made perfect sense. The fear of being so high up eased away and I started to enjoy myself. Maybe I’ll talk to the mechanist about working flys in the next show - if they would let a girl have a try.

  Still thinking about that, I scurried easily back down the ladder and hurried back through the theatre to the little door. I was just in time. As I approached, I froze as the main stage door opened and the distinct sound of a male voice echoed in the empty building.

  “The lavender, third from the right. The bulb’s blown, we’ll replace it and refocus the side spots.”

  Seth!

  I remembered Severn wanted to get a message to the Reverend. Maybe this would be my chance. I decided to hide and watch.

  The heavy velvet curtains that marked the theatre entrances pleated themselves into huge folds where they met the aisles so it wasn’t hard to sink onto my hands and knees and crawl through the pleats into the back row of seats and then along to the gap in the centre where seats had been removed to make room for Severn’s large sound desk. From there I could peek through the seats and see what was happening. I didn’t expect what I saw.

  Seth was directing operations from the centre of the stage but it was Aiden and the Reverend who had my attention. I wathced mesmerised as both men stripped to the waist, dropping their clothes in untidy piles on the stage floor. In a few seconds they were high up in the lighting grid directly above Seth, Aiden holding the gel frame of a light and the Reverend replacing its bulb, but they were not on the wooden fly floor and they were not on the huge A-frame ladder. They were hanging in mid-air, suspended in place by the rhythmic flapping of their huge wings.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  I couldn’t describe the feelings that held me riveted in place. I wasn’t terrified, I wasn’t revolted, to be honest I wasn’t even surprised. It felt unreal, like I was watching a video. I half expected Buffy the Vampire Slayer to leap down from the flys at any minute and jab one of the props walking sticks through Seth’s ribcage. Come to think of it, that wouldn’t be such a bad idea. I wasn’t scared. I wasn’t panicking. I was surprisingly calm, all things considered.

  When a sudden, overwhelming urge to breathe made me realise that for the last minute or so, I hadn’t, I gave in and admitted to myself that I was scared stiff. I was crouched as small as I could make myself behind the seats, peering through a gap between two chairs, my hands clamped tightly over my mouth to smother what I recognised was an overpowering desire to scream and I really needed to breathe. I let the air out as slowly as I could, in case my breath would be enough to give myself away, or in case once I started I wouldn’t be able to control myself and the scream would just happen, then just as carefully, dragged in a fresh lung-full. I realised I was shaking all over. I had to get out of there.

  Timing my movements to the beats of their wings to mask any sound, I crawled slowly back along the row of seats and under the velvet curtain. Once I was safely out of their sight, I stood up and tip-toed my way to the door, thanking with every step whoever had chosen the thick, soundproof carpet. Opening the door was terrifying. Outside was freedom, escape, but between me and it was an ancient door that was bound to creak just at the wrong moment and give me away. I turned the handle as slowly as I could, waiting for the ominous loud click I was certain it was going to make. But it didn’t. The door began to swing open, the alleyway beckoned. I pushed the door
just wide enough to squeeze through then closed it slowly and carefully after me, locking it with Grant’s key which I quickly stuffed into my pocket before leaning against the wall to get control of my breathing and my shaking body.

  I still had to retrieve my bike from behind the rubbish skip, which meant I had to walk back down the alley towards the stage door. What if they came out? What if they found me? My heart was racing. As I walked as quietly as possible towards my bike, I hatched my escape plan. In order to find me they had to come through the stage door, I reasoned to myself. If they did that, I would hear it begin to open. At that stage, I could quickly turn around and pretend I was walking away from my bike, not to it, and I could say I had just arrived. Yeah, if I am caught, play it cool. I breathed deeply, trying to convince myself that I wasn’t as scared as I felt. The alley had never seemed so long. My legs felt like jelly but finally, after an eternity of terror, I reached my bike, hauled it from its hiding place, mounted and, giving up completely on silence in favour of speed, pedalled away as fast as I could.

  I raced down Gloucester Street towards Linwood Avenue, my mind racing even faster. Vampires! The cute guy hiding in my bedroom was a vampire! Tasha had been axe-murdered. Someone had cut off her head. Vampires suck blood. Not in any of the movies had I heard of one cutting off someone’s head. But there was always a first time. I cycled, exhausted, into our cul-de-sac and up our driveway, leaned my bike against the garage wall and hurried round to the back of the house. The lights were off in Mum and Grant’s bedroom so my absence, and Severn’s presence, obviously hadn’t been discovered. Heaving huge sighs of relief I let myself in the back door and tip-toed down the passage to my room, stopping with my hand on the door handle. Did I want to go in?

  Severn looked normal. He was asleep, curled up into a ball, completely covered by the duvet. I wasn’t sure whether this was his usual sleeping style or whether he had hidden so that if Mum came in she would think it was me and not fuss. I pulled back the duvet and stared down at him. He looked peaceful. It was the first time I had seen him without a haunted, serious expression and my heart skipped a beat. His eyelashes curled delicately over his cheeks, the corners of his mouth softened in sleep. Damn, he was cute!

  Get a grip, Riley, that is not the issue. Check him out. Is he a vampire or not?

  Very slowly so as not to wake him, I lifted the duvet back then, just as carefully, I lifted the edge of his t-shirt. I was right. Along the length of his spine lay what I had taken to be muscles but which were, in fact, two tight rolls of what looked like creamy leather. I couldn’t resist myself. I stretched out my hand and touched one of the rolls. The reaction was instantaneous.

  Severn’s eye’s shot open, his body twisted to face me and his hand shot out, grasping my hand in a vice-like grip. I gasped with pain. He stared at me for a few seconds as sleep turned into recognition, then slowly let me go. His previous innocent expression had vanished, replaced by a look of sheer hatred.

  “I know your secret,” I whispered desperately. “I saw them fly.”

  Severn sank back onto the bed, the hatred changing to defeat.

  “What did you see?” he asked quietly

  I took off my jacket, dumped it in the corner and settled myself on the edge of the bed facing him.

  “They were at the theatre,” I began.

  “Did they see you?”

  “No. I was leaving when they arrived and I managed to hide. I was going to catch the Reverend and pass on your message but I didn’t get a chance. When I saw them take off their shirts and fly I just freaked and ran.”

  “Who did you see?”

  “Seth was there, but he stayed on the ground. It was the Reverend and Aiden who were flying.”

  “How do you know they weren’t on wires?” Severn was grasping at straws.

  “Huh! Yeah right! And those wings are fake. So how are they strapped on then? Come on! You’ve got them too, you know I’ve seen them. Time to tell all. Talk, Mr Jura, cut the bullshit and give me some real answers!”

  Severn sat quietly, his head down, for several seconds before replying.

  “Ok. What does it matter now? You’ve seen us so you know, but you can’t tell anyone because who’s going to believe you? So you may as well hear it all. Yes, there really are vampires and yes, we really are some of them. We’re vampires, all of us, that’s why we stick together even though, as you have probably noticed, we don’t necessarily like each other. It’s not like we’ve got a lot of other options.”

  “Surely there are. Why can’t you just get a normal job and live in a normal house. Who’s going to know? You don’t look any different, well, apart from the wings. I mean, it’s not like you wear cloaks and have pointy fangs.”

  He looked at me as if I was stupid.

  “Normal! Yes, for a few months, even a few years, we may look normal.” he paused as if thinking how to explain, then continued, “How old do you think I am?”

  I shrugged. “Eighteen, nineteen?”

  “Exactly my point,” he laughed. “I’ve looked eighteen, nineteen, for one hundred and eleven years. I’m one hundred and twenty nine.”

  “Oh.” I began to see his point.

  “For a while, we can stay in one place, but for no more than five years at a time or people start to notice that we don’t get any older and it’s harder for David and myself because we look young. At least Seth and the others look like adults! David’s been seventeen for over six hundred years now! No, believe me, we discovered a long time ago that the only safe thing to do is to keep moving, especially when the girls have been hunting.” He added the last bit almost under his breath but I caught it.

  “Hunting? You mean killing people? Drinking their blood like vampires do in the movies?”

  He nodded.

  “That’s what you were doing the other night, wasn’t it?” The image of the scene in the alley swam before me. “Did you kill that guy?”

  “What?” Severn looked genuinely puzzled.

  “By the nightclub, on Monday.” I told him what I had seen.

  “Yes.” He admitted when I had finished. “But I didn’t kill him. I don’t kill, that’s why I hunt.”

  “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “Doesn’t it? Figure it out! We need to keep moving but we can’t afford to leave a trail of dead bodies behind us. How long to you reckon it would take before the cops started to get suspicious? The way I hunt we get what we need and nobody gets hurt, well, not seriously anyway.”

  “Not seriously? What does that mean? Just a few days in intensive care?”

  “No, just a bit dizzy and very hungover, which they think explains why they feel dizzy. I meant it, nothing serious.”

  I realised that Severn was genuinely worried that I didn’t believe him. A nice vampire? Nah! I was about to tell myself that nice vampires didn’t exist, then I realised how stupid an assumption that would be. Most people would tell you all vampires don’t exist, nice or nasty, but I was sitting on my bed talking to one, fancying him actually, so maybe I should stop making assumptions and listen.

  “I go to bars and nightclubs,” Severn was explaining. “The targets are easy to pick. There’s always someone sitting on their own. I watch and if they’re still on their own after half an hour or so I move in. Buy them a drink, talk about them, find out if they are really alone or not, if they are buy them more drinks then, when they are too drunk to notice too much, take them back to the others. The next morning they’ll wake up in a park or a gutter with a hell of a hangover and some vague memories of a kinky party.”

  “But...” I couldn’t quite formulate the question.

  “They’re okay,” Severn reiterated. “Humans have nearly five litres of blood in their bodies, even if we all drink, we don’t take more than one. Sure they’ll feel rotten for a few days. Most of them will go to a doctor who will give them iron tablets and tell them to lay off the alcohol. It’s not a problem.”

  “Unless there’s a body,” I quizz
ed. “Like the one at New Brighton the other day? Or one in Dunedin forty years ago? You killed that one, didn’t you?”

  “No!” Severn was adamant. “The girls did. But Seth will kill me because of it.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  None of it was making any sense. It was four in the morning and I was sharing my bedroom with a guy with wings who was lecturing me on the safe ways to hunt humans and suck out their blood. It was all too weird.

  “Enough!” I held up my hands to stop him talking. “I don’t want to know any more. At least, not right now. Let’s just get some sleep. I’m going to get into my bed and you can hang by your toes from the wardrobe rail or whatever you vampires do. We just have to make sure that Mum doesn’t find you.”

  The solution turned out to be remarkable easy. There was always a huge pile of spare blankets, discarded clothes and other junk in the corner of my room and Mum had given up nagging me about it so it was easy to hide Severn under the pile. To anyone looking in from the door he’d never be noticed, which was just as well as I had forgotten to reset my alarm and only woke up when Mum stuck her head in the door and called loudly. I made a half-hearted attempt at getting up but it didn’t take much acting to convince Mum that I should stay home another day. After all, she told Grant, it was Friday, I did look very pale and we did all have to face the trauma of going back into the theatre that night. Mum and Grant had both decided to go to work as normal, which was exactly what I was hoping they would do. Now I had a whole day free to sort out a vampire.

  Severn came out of hiding as soon as Mum and Grant drove away.

  “It’s safe,” I assured him. “I’ve pulled all the curtains. If Mum asks I’ll tell her it was because I didn’t want reporters staring in. She’ll buy that.”