Out for Blood: The Third of Severn

By J.L. O'Rourke

The body on New Brighton beach has made headline news, the Reverend and Aiden are keeping secrets from Severn, and Riley believes someone is following her. When a video of Aiden flying goes viral, religious panic puts the vampires’ identify and secrets under threat. As they try to solve the mystery of the body, Riley and Severn discover connections with the past and take their human and vampire relationships to new levels, but can they find a solution to present events before the Guild is exposed? Out for Blood is the third in the Severn series of paranormal mysteries set backstage in Christchurch, New Zealand, where Riley Lowe, aged 16, discovers her boyfriend and his fellow crew members who work in the dark are vampires.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J.L. O'Rourke
• Release date: Jun 7, 2018
• ISBN: 9780473439903

J.L. O'Rourke

J. L. O'Rourke has worked as a journalist, sub-editor, free-lance writer and office administrator. When not writing, she enjoys being in a theatre, either onstage as a singer or backstage where she has been everything from floor crew to stage-manager. She lives in Christchurch, New Zealand, with an assortment of hairless dogs, fluffy cats and grumpy guinea pigs.You can email her at [e-mail]

Book preview

Out for Blood

The Third of Severn

J. L. O’Rourke

Copyright 2018

Published by Millwheel Press Limited

ISBN Softcover 978-0-473-43989-7

Epub 978-0-473-43990-3

Kindle 978-0-473-43991-0

Discover other titles by J. L. O’Rourke

Blood in the Wings: The First of Severn

Chains of Blood: The Second of Severn

Power Ride: An Avi Livingstone murder mystery

Deep in the Shallows: A Lake Waihola Mystery

www.millwheelpress.co.nz

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Acknowledgements:

While the majority of the characters in the Severn series are fictional inventions of my imagination and are not based on any real person, my thanks to the two real theatre crew who gave their permission to allow me to exaggerate their personalities and reinvent them into vampires, which have now developed their own truly fictional personalities. Those people know who they are – thank you. If anyone else thinks that they recognise themselves in a character – I guarantee that it is purely unintentional.

Thanks, too, to my cover models, Skip and Michael.

Cover photo by Bethany Nehoff.

Chapter 1

I don’t make the same mistake twice. I didn’t kill her. Nothing is coming back to bite us.

But you bit her, Aiden? Didn’t you? After we left.

Well, yes, of course I did. And, yes, I may have drunk a bit more than I should have but I guarantee you her heart was still beating when I took off.

Severn stood up, leant across the table and slammed the newspaper down in front of Aiden, who glared back, arms folded in defiance.

So how did she wind up dead on New Brighton beach, Severn shouted, tapping the bold newspaper headline for emphasis.

I don’t know, Aiden shouted back, standing and leaning forwards until his forehead almost touched Severn’s. Maybe you went back for her. Or maybe he did. Aiden glared sideways at the smaller man seated between them. Or maybe she just got on her bicycle and biked there. I repeat. I. Don’t. Know!

Stop it, both of you! I reached out my hand and waved it between their faces to get their attention. Sit down. This is not helping. Maybe it’s not even her. I picked up the paper and scanned the article. It only says a woman’s body has been found on New Brighton beach. It doesn’t say it’s Sally Murchison.

That’s true, the Reverend agreed. Aiden, Severn, do as Riley says. Sit down and stop arguing. Just because Aiden has a bad habit of leaving bodies on beaches named Brighton, doesn’t make him guilty of all of them. Anyway, to be fair, in the other cases Aiden was usually covering up for his sister.

Other cases, plural? I chimed in. I know about the one a few months ago, last time you guys were here, but are you saying there were more?

Well, the Reverend rubbed his long fingers over his chin in an attempt to look nonchalant, there was that one in Dunedin forty years ago that Severn got mixed up in, although that was closer to Taieri Mouth than Brighton but I guess that’s splitting hairs, and there may have been one or two incidents in England’s Brighton but they were well spread out. It’s been at least seventy years since the last one. Anyway, back to today’s little revelation. Yes, we know we left Aiden with her when we rescued that ghastly child, Tommy. Yes, we did leave Aiden with instructions to sort her out. Yes, we know Aiden can get a bit … um … enthusiastic but I, for one, trust him and if he says she was alive when he left, I am going to believe him. I would suggest for now that we let this go and get on with the show. We have a matinee in two hours. Let’s just get to Mona Vale, get the gear rigged and worry about this when we find out who the woman is. If the police confirm it’s Sally Murchison, we can panic then.

I could see by the way his eyes narrowed behind his glasses that Severn did not agree but the tiny Reverend David Rochester was the boss and, even though the other two towered over him, they did as he ordered. But I wasn’t one of them, yet, and the Rev didn’t scare me. I grabbed my boyfriend by the arm.

Yeah, grab your stuff, Sev. We have to get Grant’s car back to him. They will be nearly ready to go too. Did I leave my torch in your room?

I didn’t give him a chance to answer my purposefully stupid question, I just hoped he would follow me into the motel bedroom he had claimed as his, which he did, a bemused expression on his face. Before he could say anything I put a finger to my lips as a sign to be quiet then both fingers to my ears followed by an index finger pointing to the room we had just left. He got the message. I had something to say but I didn’t want the others to hear it, which meant wait until we were a few blocks away in the car, well out of vampire hearing range. With a quick nod of his head, Severn picked up his long, black coat and motioned for us to leave.

See you guys at the show, I called out as cheerfully as I could fake while we bolted out of the motel. Severn drove four blocks before he asked me what I wanted to say.

Well, I hesitated, The Rev may trust Aiden but I’m not entirely sure I trust the Rev.

What? Why?

Thinking back. It’s Sunday now. We rescued Tommy from Sally Murchison on Friday night. I know we were all at the show yesterday but Aiden and the Rev were late. You were covering for them, saying that they were sleeping, but you walked to my place yesterday. If they had been at the motel sleeping, the car would have been there and you would have driven. I challenged you on that and you admitted that you only walked because they had gone out somewhere in the car, been out all night, hadn’t come back, and you had no idea where they were or what they were doing. Right?

Severn nodded.

Plus, I continued, when I asked Aiden what happened to Sally, had he paid her off like he was told to do, he just said she was gone. He said yes she’s gone and she won’t be back. When I asked him how he could be so sure, he said, and I quote, after he had finished with her, she would not be back. I asked what he had done to her and he said it was nothing I needed to worry about, he had just done what he was told to do. What he was good at. So what is it he is good at? From what I just heard, he is good at leaving bodies on Brighton beaches.

Severn fixed his eyes on the road so I couldn’t see his expression. Maybe the Rev is being completely truthful, he said. He told us he believed Aiden didn’t kill Sally. But what if he’s not telling the whole story?

What?

Think about it. They were together. Sally died. Aiden didn’t kill her. Who does that leave?

I looked at Severn in horror. He looked away from the road long enough to nod his head and flash me a weak smile.

The Reverend.

Chapter 2

For backstage crew, Severn and I were good actors, pretending we had nothing to worry about, smiling happily as we pulled into our driveway to collect Mum and my stepfather, Grant, and laughing at Grant’s weak jokes on the drive to Mona Vale. Severn even managed such a cheerful greeting for Cameron, the spunky boy-racer followspot operator, that nobody would have known how jealous they were of each other. Imagine that – plain, ordinary, boring Riley Lowe having two sexy guys competing for her. What a pity Tasha Moreland of the upthrust bra wasn’t around – that would have driven her nuts.

Sunday matinees are always a hard slog. The audience is always a mix of old people and family groups with young children, so the energy level is always low, and the crew and actors are all exhausted and a bit hung-over from the obligatory Saturday night after-show party so their energy level is non-existent. I didn’t envy the stage manager who had to rev everybody up to put on a decent performance. Especially as the stage was set on a large lawn with no shelter and the temperature was climbing before the show even started.

I had my usual argument with the musicians about the level of their instruments, which I won, as always, by nodding my head as if I was agreeing with them, twiddling the knobs and faders on the sound desk, then resetting them exactly as they had been at the beginning. Severn had his own dramas, deftly saving our desk from the hands of an audience member who thought he knew more about sound desks than we did. He was just about to start pulling out plugs when Severn appeared beside him, sliding between the man and the sound desk so they were so close the man’s breath was steaming up Severn’s glasses. Quietly but with menacing politeness, Severn threatened the man with bodily harm if he touched a single cable. The guy laughed as if Severn had cracked the funniest joke. Severn didn’t move. I guess the guy thought Severn looked young, inexperienced and in need of expert advice, as he started blustering about what experience he had and where the cables should be plugged but a hissed command to Sit…Down…Sir made him realise his mistake. With a mumbled comment about young upstarts, he submitted, climbed down off the scaffolding and scurried away to join his family on the grass.

Cameron wasn’t faring any better. One bank of parcan lights, the one at the very top of a tall scaffolding tower, wasn’t working. The head lighting guy, Danny, was checking the cables, running along the ground while Cameron was scampering up and down the scaffolding like a demented monkey. I noticed that Aiden and the Reverend were helping them – staying well out of the way of Severn and me. That was fine by us – we didn’t feel like talking to them until we had figured a few things out. Between the two of us, without their help, we laid out and connected the seemingly endless lengths of speaker cable, fitted batteries to the radio microphones, and checked them all.

I left Severn guarding the desk in case our helpful punter came back, and raced around the back of the stage to the dressing room tents, set up on a smaller lawn on the other side of a tiny creek. In the men’s dressing room I was subjected to the usual rubbish talk as I tucked microphone packs into men’s pants and taped the tiny wires up their bare backs and over their ears to their cheeks. Tommy, the brat child, stood quietly while I fixed his mic – too scared of me to object. In the women’s tent the talk was all about gardening and what colour decorations somebody’s daughter was having at their wedding. Nobody mentioned the body on the beach, not even Heidi McCormack, Tommy’s mother, so maybe it wasn’t Sally. Unless it was, and Heidi didn’t know yet.

With a quick wave to Mum who was braiding the hair of one of the chorus members, I raced back to my seat behind the sound desk. Severn was already in place and handed me my comms headphones as I slid into the chair beside him. As I heard the stage manager call five minutes to beginners through my comms, I heard Severn speaking quietly beside me but not into any microphone.

Aiden, David, where are you? Aiden, I need you backstage looking after the radio mics. Reverend, you’re on standby to troubleshoot. But I need to know where you are.

Even though I was sitting beside him, I could barely make out his quiet voice but I knew, with their incredible hearing, the vampires would hear every word. I didn’t hear their reply but by the grim tightening of his mouth and eyes, I gathered Severn wasn’t impressed and it probably wasn’t polite. Just as I was about to ask, a smiling Aiden joined us in the scaffolding tower.

Don’t get your knickers in a knot, he said. We’re all good to go. He turned to climb out of the tower then stopped. Holding on by one hand, he swung backwards from one of the bars until his face was at Severn’s shoulder. And get out of this mood the two of you are in. Rev and I know what you’re thinking and you’re wrong. I’ll prove it to you later.

Then he jumped. We were so high up the tower I almost expected to see him unfurl his wings and fly, which was impossible as he was fully dressed in his stage blacks. Instead he landed in a dive roll, picked himself up and lifted his hand to his head in a salute that turned into a single finger gesture that told us exactly what he thought of us. Severn muttered a curse under his breath that we both knew Aiden would hear. I gave him one of the fake I’m so happy today smiles I had been pretending since we left the motel. He growled back. I pulled a bar of chocolate from my pocket, took a bite and settled at the desk, my hands hovering over the sliders. Over the comms the stage manager called standby and I forgot about Sally Murchison. The show had begun.

The actors suffered in the heat of a summer Sunday afternoon, melting in their velvet costumes, but the audience didn’t seem to notice or care. I had a script in front of me so I knew when the guy playing Robin Hood forgot his lines and jumped into another scene, leaving Friar Tuck to pull the dialogue back to the scene they were actually in, and when Maid Marion called Robin Hood by his proper name, but the audience