‘What do you want,” she looked up, still trying to pinpoint my position. “Your note said you expected payment for silence. What’s your price?”
That was when I made my big mistake. I moved fractionally and the board under my foot creaked. Dilly heard it and immediately knew where I was. Before I had realised my mistake, she was running across the stage and climbing the ladder. I was trapped in the flys. If I could get to the top of the ladder before she did, maybe I kick her hands off the rungs. I was thinking too slowly. She was moving too fast. Before I had got half way back along the walkway, she was up the ladder and facing me. As soon as I saw the expression on her face, I knew the rest of the story. It was reality tv, Crime Watch. We were going to re-enact the mysterious killing of the showgirl, with Riley Lowe starring as Natasha Moreland.
“Great acting down there, Miss Davenport.” I was stalling for time, hoping Severn would get here quickly. “The story was quite believable and those tears were very authentic. It’s not what happened though, is it?”
That’s the great thing about actors, they can’t resist taking centre stage. Feed them the right cue and they’re off, on autopilot. Dilly was no exception. She wanted to talk, to brag, to be the star.
“Not completely, no. There never was a camera. But the little bitch did get here before me. When she found the letter in Jason’s pocket she confronted him and he lied. He told her that he had written it and was going to give it to her. He told her about the fire exit. Then he told me that he couldn’t make it by midnight and could we meet later, nearer to one o’clock. The bastard was going to meet her first. But I got here at twelve. When I arrived she and Jason were already hard at it. Up here in the fly tower. They were so busy they didn’t even hear me arrive. It was too simple. I just climbed up, hauled her off and shoved her.”
“And Jason let you?”
“Huh!” Dilly snorted her disgust. “There wasn’t much he could do with his pants around his ankles.”
‘Why didn’t he tell the police? Why is he acting like he doesn’t know anything?”
“Because, my dear Riley, he has just as much to lose as I do. If I go down, I take him with me.”
“He didn’t do anything.” I wasn’t following this.
“Tasha Moreland was under age. Her mother used to home school her. When she came to high school she was away ahead of her age group. In spite of those boobs and that attitude, she was only fourteen.”
“You’re joking!” I was genuinely shocked.
“How would that have looked on Jason’s file?” Dilly snorted. “He’s about to cut a million dollar movie deal. The last thing he can afford right now is a sex scandal. Trust me, Jason has every reason to shut up. You, on the other hand, strike me as just the sort of silly bitch who would rush off to the police and there is no way I am going to let that happen. It looks as if silly little Riley, school friend of the deceased, broke into the theatre late at night and was climbing around the fly tower in the dark when she had a dreadful accident – just like her friend Natasha. Or” Dilly paused for effect, “the police might just be forced to expand their search for her boyfriend who is obviously a serial killer.”
“Maybe I am.” Severn approached stealthily from behind her. “But maybe she’s not my next victim.”
Dilly spun around as she realised that she was trapped now, not me. She rushed at him, trying to push past him to reach the ladder. He grabbed her arm but she fought back like a cat, scratching at him with her long red nails and kicking randomly, hoping to connect. Severn kept his grip. She changed tactics, suddenly slumping down as if exhausted, then just as quickly, punching a tightly balled fist into his crotch. Severn collapsed instantly and Dilly shook herself free to turn on me. Launching herself from a crouching start like a sprinter in a running race, she sprang forwards. I stood my ground till the last second than stepped aside. Powered by her own momentum, Dilys Davenport sailed over the edge of the fly tower to the stage floor below.
CHAPTER THIRTY THREE
Severn pulled himself to his feet, wincing with pain, and joined me at the edge.
“She fell off,” I said obviously. He laughed.
“No shit! And I only got the first confession, the fake one, on tape. I stopped the cameras just before she rushed at you and I just got here as fast as I could, I didn’t think about turning the cameras back on. Sorry.”
“No, that’s fine. It doesn’t really matter much. Maybe it makes it easier. At least for Jason.”
“You give a toss about Jason?”
“No, not really. But living with it has to be punishment enough, doesn’t it?”
“Depends how long you live,” Severn replied enigmatically.
“Messy, messy!” A voice penetrated from the blackness offstage.
Looking like rejects from the Matrix, Seth, Olivia and Meredith sauntered onto the stage and looked down at the crumpled heap that used to be Dilys Davenport. Even from the flys I could see the spreading pool of blood. Meredith knelt down, dipped her finger in it and tasted it like it was chocolate.
“Go ahead girls,” Seth invited. “Shame to waste it.”
“Don’t be so disgusting,” I called out.
“Oh, tsk, tsk,” Seth relied sardonically. “Don’t be so squeamish. It’s not like she needs it any more. Care to join us Severn? You must be starving by now.”
I glanced at Severn and could tell by the quick way his tongue flicked over his lips that Seth was right. I had to keep reminding myself that Severn was still a vampire. It was easy to see Seth and the girls as B-grade movie nasties, especially in the black leathers they were currently sporting, but it was a lot harder to remember that Severn was one of them too. He looked so much ... well... nicer! But he was still a vampire – and one who hadn’t fed for nearly a week.
“She’d be much more fun. Can we have her instead?” Meredith inquired in her pretty little girly voice, pointing up at me. “Are you going to share your snack with us voluntarily, Sev darling, or do we have to come up and get her?”
“No!” I clung to Severn, genuinely scared.
“And just how do you expect your little superhero to save you then?” Seth laughed.
“He could gather her into his arms and fly off into the sunset,” Meredith chanted. “Oops! No he can’t. You haven’t learnt to fly yet, have you sweetie?”
“Pathetic, isn’t it?” Seth inquired. “Over a hundred years and he still can’t flap his wings. But he doesn’t need us to remind him how inadequate he is. He knows that. He also knows perfectly well that right at this very moment, we hold a full set of cards and he holds absolutely none at all. There are only two ways down out of that fly tower – the ladder, or the more direct route favoured by the late Miss Davenport here. Which way would you prefer to travel, Miss Lowe?”
With a growing sense of impending doom, I realised he was right. We were trapped. Either we climbed down the ladder or they would come up and get us. There had to be another way. Looking desperately for an alternate way out, I spotted something useful. High in the grid above us I could see a wooden pole, one of the type used to anchor the bottom of the backcloths, left behind by the riggers. If only we could reach it.
It was one of those rare flashes of mental clarity when the whole universe suddenly makes sense. Or at least your small part of it. All through the year at school they had been constantly reminding us that it was our final year. Come December we faced the big world of grown-ups. It was time to think about the future. Time to start making decisions about a future career. I had been studiously trying to avoid thinking about it. All of a sudden it was obvious. If I wanted a future that was longer than the next ten minutes.
Acting more scared than I felt, I snuggled closer into Severn, pressing my face into his chest. He fell into my plan and hugged me tight. He had forgotten about the scratches inflicted in his struggle with Dilly, still oozing blood. I put my mouth against one and sucked hard.
Severn gasped and jumped back but it was too late. I
felt the warm taste of blood in my mouth. A taste I was going to have to get used to. We both realised the enormity of what I had done. I wondered perversely how long it took to grow wings and whether Mum would notice.
“Now take him out,” I whispered.
“Oh yes, please do,” Seth replied. “Yes, I heard that, Miss Lowe. And I am all aquiver waiting to see how he’s going to do it.” He might have heard what I said, but with the stage lights blinding them, they hadn’t seen what I had just done. Advantage to us. Play on.
Knowing they couldn’t see me, but taking no chances, I turned my back to the stage and, using tiny movements masked by my body, gestured frantically. I pointed to the pole, pointed to Severn, made little flapping motions with my hands, pointed to Seth then pretended to stab myself in the chest. Severn got the message and nodded almost imperceptibly. He gestured back, pointing to me, to Seth and moving his hands like ducks quacking. I had to keep Seth talking, provide a distraction. I gave him the thumbs up.
While Severn stepped as far back into the shadows as possible and began to flex and unfurl his wings, I moved forwards, closer towards the ladder and the front of the stage, picking up the beltpack of the flyman’s comms as I passed.
“So Seth,” I called out cheerily, “If I do come down voluntarily, what are you offering? I’m good backstage and I know your secret. Can I join you? I’m sure Olivia and Meredith could teach me all sorts of fun things.”
I glanced back at Severn who gave me a nod, and I hurled the comms as hard as I could at the nearest stage light. As I expected, it exploded spectacularly, raining glass on those below. All three vampires spun around in surprise. It was enough. Severn jumped. I held my breath as he fell between the backcloths, his wings folded upwards. What if they wouldn’t work? Then they spread wide and flapped twice and he soared upwards into the grid.
By this time Seth had realised what was happening. He started tearing at his long leather coat, trying hurriedly to strip down and take to the air. It was too late. With deadly accuracy Severn speared the pole into Seth’s chest, the force of the throw pinning Seth to the stage floor. Meredith screamed.
I climbed down the ladder, giggling slightly as I watched Severn make a rather ungainly touchdown. I guess landing takes practice. While he advanced menacingly towards the two girls, who were rapidly backing up into a corner, I checked out the two bodies. Dilly was most definitely dead, her eyes staring blankly, her body twisted into a shape even a dancer would never achieve while alive. So much blood from one person. Seth was still twitching. I didn’t go too close. Still keeping an eye on the girls, Severn picked up Seth’s coat and rummaged in the pocket, pulling out a cell phone. He flicked through the numbers and speed dialled.
“David. Severn. Get your butt down to the theatre now! We have some cleaning up to do.”
“Don’t move!” he ordered Olivia and Meredith. Then with a flick of his wings, he flew upwards into the grid, returning with the two videos he had removed from the cameras, which he handed to me.
“Go,” he said. “We’ll leave Dilys here. Edit those films and get them to the police anonymously. They’ll think she confessed and committed suicide. That’ll get me off the hook and keep good old Jason in the clear.”
“What about Seth?”
Severn gave a cold, nasty laugh.
“I guess the plane will have some excess baggage. David and the girls can package him up neatly for travel, can’t you girls?”
They nodded in mute agreement.
“What about me?” I had to ask.
‘Yeah!” Severn took my hands in his. “What about you?” he asked quietly. “You have no idea what you’ve let yourself in for. I wish now that I could take you with me, but right now that isn’t possible. Too much has to be settled first. I promise I will email you as soon as I’m safe. We’ll take it from there. In the meantime, go! Get back to the office, phone Grant and get him to pick you up. Don’t mention any of this, just tell him David has taken me to the airport early. Stick to a simple story. You came to the theatre about nine o’clock, collected your jacket and left. There was no dead Dilys when you came, and none when you left. Okay?”
“No,” I disagreed. “I never came here at all. I changed my mind, it was too cold.”
I put my hands to my neck, fumbling for the gold chain that hung there. Shaking, I unclipped the tiny bluebird and, pulling Severn’s head down so I could reach, fastened it around his neck. Now both birds could fly.
We hugged and kissed one last time. Then I turned and ran, clutching the precious videos. I didn’t stop until I reached Grant’s office block and was safely behind the carpark gates. Panting hard, I punched in the security code to open the door and sank down onto the stairs. I had better get my breath back before phoning home.
In the quiet glow of the security lamp, I looked down and realised my hands were covered with Dilly’s blood. I should find the toilets and clean up. Still puffing, I climbed the stairs to the washroom and pushed my hands into the hot, gushing water.
The water ran red and Severn was gone.
###
Other Books by J.L. O’Rourke
Chains of Blood
The Second of Severn.
Riley Lowe is backstage at another show, but this time she is out of her depth, running equipment she doesn’t understand and faced with all sorts of problems including a boy actor who is a spoilt little brat. When her personal vampires arrive to help, Riley thinks everything has suddenly got better, until the boy disappears. Will the vampire's special skills be enough to find the boy and how long will it be before Riley turns into a vampire herself?
Read an excerpt:
I fished a hanky out of my pocket, dried my eyes and blew my nose. Crying was not going to help. But I still had no idea what to do. Maybe Mum and Grant could help. The sound operator from our own theatre company was out of town touring with a fashion show but if Grant could get hold of him, he could at least tell me what to do.
Then my cell phone vibrated in my pocket. I hauled it out and stared at it blankly. A message from a withheld number. Curious, I opened it.
“angels r us look up look left”
I looked up, peered through the darkness of the encroaching night. Looked left – towards the carpark. And they were there. Three figures emerged out of the gloom, striding side by side like the baddies in a b-grade western or the chorus-line for a musical version of the Matrix, long black coats flowing behind them. Before I could get out of my chair the one in the middle had broken into a run. I have never climbed down the scaffold as quickly, but I was still not at ground level when he reached me, picked me off the scaffold and pulled me into his arms.
When I came up for breath I could see Mum and Grant standing up from where they had been sitting on the grass and walking towards David and Aiden, hands outstretched in welcome.
“What? How? When?” I stuttered, wrapping my arms around Severn’s waist under his coat as we walked to join the others.
“Sounded like you needed help,” Severn smiled, his arm around my shoulders.
“And we needed sun,” Aiden added.
I gave him a quizzical look. “You? Needed sun? Umm...?” The “have you forgotten you’re a vampire?” question left unasked.
“Oh no, not in the want-to-hang-out-in-the-daylight way. We were just sick of snow. It is so cold in the mountains.”
“And we were bored,” the Reverend added. “Sounds like we got here just at the right time. We were in the carpark. We heard the director’s little request.”
Of course they did. A normal person sitting beside me wouldn’t have heard it unless they were wearing headphones but of course the vampires heard it. I wonder how long it takes for things like that to change – my hearing hadn’t changed at all yet and it had been three months since I had drunk Severn’s blood and started the change-over. I must ask them how long it takes and what the symptoms are.
“How did you get here so quickly? I only emailed you yesterday?”
/>
“We flew,” Severn replied with one of his pedantically correct and obvious answers, complete with raised eyebrow over his fine, tortoiseshell-rimmed glasses.
I gave him a similar look back. “Flew? Um, flew... as in...?”
“As in the Lear Jet,” Severn laughed. “You weren’t thinking...?” and he flexed his shoulders so I could feel his wings move under his t-shirt. “We are not that fast – or that fit.”
“Weren’t you worried about coming back so soon after ... what if they stopped you at the airport? Don’t the police still want to talk to you about the body at New Brighton?”
Severn smiled and pulled a passport out of his coat pocket. I looked at the name – Benedict Bailey. The passport was French.
“Benedict Bailey?” I whispered. “Is your passport guy an alcoholic or something? You left here as Father John Benedictine on a Vatican passport, now you’re named after two types of drink, not just one.” I shook my head in disbelief. Severn laughed.
“So who are you in public? Severn or Benny?”
“You could just yell, hey you. That could work.”
“Riley!” Danny came up behind us. “I’ve spoken to the stage manager, to the president and to the director but got no-where. We have to find all this extra gear tomorrow and make it work. Sorry. I am going to be struggling just to get my lighting stuff. I will ask around to see if anyone can help with the sound stuff, but I can’t promise anything.”
“Sorted.” The Reverend stepped forward. “I’m David Rochester. We’ve worked with Grant’s company before and we heard yesterday that Riley was struggling, so we’ve come to help.”
Danny tilted his head to the side quizzically and looked down at the diminutive figure in the enveloping ankle-length coat. I could tell what he was thinking. The Rev was even shorter than me with long hair pulled back in a pony tail. He looked like a doll. Danny gave Severn and Aiden an equally hard appraisal that seemed to last for ages before breaking into a wide smile. He grabbed the Rev’s hand and shook it firmly. “Welcome aboard. Any of you do lighting?”
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