Blood Exposed: The Severn Series, #4

By J.L. O'Rourke

Riley's best friend, Anita, has convinced Riley and Severn to provide the technicals for a medieval re-enactment and fantasy convention run by the grandparent's of Anita's unborn baby, but they won't be paid because one of the committee has stolen the society's funds. Riley's attempts to find out who took the money are complicated when one of the committee is killed during the jousting tournament. Can Riley work out the committee's secrets and how will the real vampires cope with two steampunk goths who want to be bitten? Is a fantasy convention the one place they can show their true colours?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Millwheel Press
• Release date: Oct 1, 2018
• ISBN: 9780473457334

Book preview

ISBN Softcover 978-0-473-45732-7

Epub 978-0-473-45733-4

Kindle 978-0-473-45734-1

Discover other titles by J. L. O’Rourke

Blood in the Wings: The First of Severn

Chains of Blood: The Second of Severn

Out for Blood: The Third of Severn

Power Ride: An Avi Livingstone murder mystery

Deep in the Shallows: A Lake Waihola Mystery

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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. The hotel, too, is fictional. While there are hotels opposite Hagley Park, this one is not based on any of them and is purely a fictional, generic hotel from my imagination.

Thanks, too, to my cover model, Skip.

Cover photo by Bethany Nehoff.

CHAPTER ONE

Welcome to the Guild.

I didn’t know whether to kiss the delicate, long-fingered hand that was extended in greeting or shake it. What was the protocol? Why hadn’t I been given some instructions? From beside me, someone much better schooled in old-fashioned manners than I was stepped forwards, took the proffered hand gently and bowed from the waist.

We are most honoured to be in your presence, M’Lady, Severn said, straightening from his bow and releasing her hand. Master Severn Jura of the Guild of Traveller Technicians at your service. May I present my apprentice, Mistress Lowe.

Apprentice? Well, I suppose I was, in way, but that sounded a little bit demeaning. He could have found a better word.

The woman in the intricately embroidered, brocade gown bowed her head slightly in my direction but did not extend her hand again. I gathered I was too low in the social order to be allowed any sort of bodily contact, so I tucked one leg behind the other, bobbed down and up, and muttered a polite Ma’am. Thank heavens for those childhood ballet classes. I danced like a hippopotamus but at least I could still remember how to stumble through a curtsy.

The elegant woman turned to her left and ushered forwards a younger woman whose pale blue gown rippled in gentle folds of soft velvet over the small bump of her pregnant belly.

Lady Ambrosia, please see our distinguished guests to the inner sanctum. I will join you forthwith.

Yes, M’Lady, the younger woman said, beckoning us to follow her. Still showing his impeccable manners, Severn beckoned me to go first as the younger woman led us down a wide hallway. It took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the darkness before I could take in the hall’s magnificence; the overwhelming wood grain of its antique floor to ceiling panelling alleviated by a rich blue and gold patterned carpet, its colours accentuated in the vibrant hand-sewn tapestries, depicting scenes of medieval life, that hung from the walls. We passed under a wooden archway intricately carved with delicate flowers and birds and through a heavy panelled door that opened surprisingly smoothly on its oversized brass hinges. I was not expecting the room we were shown into.

Before us a large living room spanned the width of the house, an aluminium sliding door in the far wall opening out to a timber deck. A modern lounge suite in white leather and chrome shared the vast central space with a Steinway grand piano while a side alcove, cordoned off by an overflowing bookcase, contained a glass-topped dining table surrounded by six black vinyl-covered chairs, and led through into a spacious kitchen in black and marble. I shook my head in disbelief, but not at the furniture.

Ambrosia? I asked. Seriously? What is it with my friends? Why do you all have this penchant for alcoholic pseudonyms. He’s been Benedictine and Bailey and now you’re Ambrosia? Just call me Stella Artois Speights from now on.

My best friend, Anita, laughed as she perched herself on the end of the massive couch and waved at us to sit beside her.

You should so do that – at least as your persona for here. Stella Speights. That’s so you. I am so glad you guys came. I really appreciate it.

The door opened and Severn rose from his seat as the grand lady swept in. She motioned Severn to sit and plonked herself rather ungraciously into the armchair opposite us.

Hi guys. Thanks for coming. My name isn’t really Lady Justinia. I’m Ngaire, Caleb’s mum. We didn’t intend to meet you looking quite so formal, but Anita and I were trying on our costumes when you arrived and we couldn’t resist. Now, Anita here tells me you might be just the guys to sort out our mess. She says you’re the experts.

Experts? Severn laughed. I don’t know if I would go that far, but if it’s theatre technicals you’re after, we are pretty good at what we do. What’s your problem?

Can I offer you a coffee while we talk? This may take some time. Anita, can you please ask Caleb to bring us coffee? Or would you two prefer a glass of mead?

Coffee would be fine, thanks, Severn said. Both of us take it black, no sugar. He grinned at the looks of distaste on both their faces. We’re theatre crew. We like black.

So, you two are actually professionals in the industry, not just keen amateurs like the ones we usually have to rely on to help us for our events? she asked.

I was automatically going to answer no, I was just an amateur, but Severn spoke first and, with a newfound sense of pride, I realised he was right.

Yes. We’re a professional itinerant crew. There are a few more of us but they are currently in France, taking a well-earned rest break. Riley is our newest member. She’s still in training but we hope she will be joining us permanently at the end of this year.

Joining permanently. Ngaire had no idea just how permanent that could be. A few years permanent or an undead, immortal, blood-sucking-vampire, eternal permanent. I hadn’t decided which yet.

Ngaire continued to make small talk while we waited for Anita to return with Caleb and the coffee, which came in handmade pottery mugs festooned with dancing pukekos. Anita had done a quick costume change and was back to the track pants and hoody that had become her usual pregnancy-disguising clothes since her bump had begun to show. Severn sipped his coffee then leant forwards on the couch and got down to business.

What is it you need us to do for you? he asked.

We are planning a big event, Ngaire explained, and we have, to be completely frank and honest, completely messed up organising the microphones and stuff we will need for our panel discussions.

We can fix that.

Let me explain. It’s not as simple as you may think. Ngaire reached forwards and opened a file that was lying on the coffee table between us, spreading out papers that included a list of workshops and a map of Hagley Park. As Anita had probably explained, my husband and I are on the committee of the MFR, the Medieval and Fantasy Recreationists. We’re actually two of the founding members. The society is a lovely mix of historical research and a lot of fun but, unlike other similar groups, we cater for the fans of fantasy as well as the historical re-enactors. Most of us are fans of speculative fiction so there are just as many toy dragons at our events as there are hand-hewn suits of chain mail.

I’m working on a robotic werewolf, Caleb said from the armchair beside his mother.

That doesn’t surprise me, Severn replied as Ngaire threw Caleb a motherly ‘don’t interrupt’ glare, sipped her coffee and continued as if he hadn’t spoken.

We normally hold at least three one-day events every year but a couple of years ago we decided, as a committee, to hold a big event this year. We tied it into Valentine’s Day and the city council’s summer programme to hook into their advertising. It was a good opportunity to hold a full weekend of activities before the weather got too cold.

Valentine’s Day’s only a couple of weeks away, Severn pointed out.

Yes, that’s why we are now in such a panic. Here’s the plan. She pushed the paperwork towards us. The event has two streams, one in the hotel and one on Hagley Park. We’ve booked the hotel and its conference rooms. Most of the attendees will be staying there and we will be using all three conference rooms for panel discussions, guest speaker talks and workshops. Directly opposite, over the road in the park, we’ve got council permission to erect a gigantic marquee and rope off an area for the outdoor stuff. The public will be allowed in, at a small charge of course, to see demonstrations of medieval crafts but the big drawcard will be the jousting tournament. Men in real armour on real horses.

The Reverend and Brother Martin would enjoy that, Severn said in an aside to me. That would be right up their alley.

If there’s a competition for fighting with staves, we should get Martin to enter, I laughed. He reckons he’s an expert.

He is. I’ve seen him sparring with the Rev. I wouldn’t want to go against either of them.

And Finn if there’s archery, I added.

Are your friends medieval re-enactors too? Ngaire asked.

You could say that, Severn said.

True, you could say that but it would be more correct to say they were the originals, all dating from a few hundred years ago when these quaint sports were actual survival skills.

Severn pulled the hotel’s room plan towards him and studied it.

Are we needed in both the hotel and the marquee? he asked.

Just the hotel. I have to confess we have stuffed up badly, Ngaire said with a sigh, When we booked the hotel, the information sheet said each conference room came with provision for a projector and a microphone connection. We thought that meant everything was provided in the hire. But last week one of our committee members was there for a work event and realised there is only one microphone and the connector in the wall goes to an in-house speaker that is really hard to work.

Severn nodded, pulled a notebook and pen from the hip pocket of his jeans and started making a list while Ngaire continued.

This is the bit where I get down on my knees and beg. We raced all over town and got quotes from as many companies as we could but either they were booked out already that weekend or their prices were so high, we couldn’t afford them. That’s our other problem. We thought we had some funding to cover emergencies but housing the horses for the jousting has used that up. I was just going to tell everyone that all the panellists and comperes will simply have to speak loudly but Anita said we should ask you first.

How much have you got in your budget? Severn asked, blunt and business-like.

Ngaire hesitated, lowered her head and cleared her throat.

Just tell them, Mum, Caleb said. If they’re going to help us, they need to know the truth.

Ngaire looked up, her shame and embarrassment showing in a blush that reddened her neck and crept slowly up her cheeks. I just told you a lie. We did have money for emergencies. We had ten thousand dollars, but it’s gone. Someone stole it. Our current budget is absolutely zero.

She raised her hand to stop Caleb from telling us more and a look of agreement passed between them. I wondered if they knew the identity of the thief but didn’t want us to know. I would get the rest of the story out of Anita later.

While I was watching the unspoken conversation between Caleb and his mother, Severn glanced through several different sheets of paper, did some calculations then sat back and looked squarely at Ngaire.

Ignoring the money for the moment, here’s what we need. There are three conference rooms but, if your programme is correct, only one of them needs more than two microphones and the busy periods don’t clash with each other. He paused to check his calculations and pushed them towards me. Look at this, Riley. I reckon we can do it with six, maybe eight, microphones, two small four-channel mixers and one eight-channel. I’m thinking we can save on speakers, too. If we use powered ones, we won’t have to worry about amplifiers, which will keep the cost down, and if those rooms are as small as they look, we’ll only need a pair for the bigger room and we can split a second pair between the smaller conference rooms, one speaker each. They don’t need surround sound for one person talking. He shifted his attention to Ngaire. What about the park? Are you sure you won’t need anything over there because that would mean running power, which would need a generator.

No, the whole point of the park is that it’s all as historic as we can make it. So it’s just the conference rooms in the hotel.

Don’t forget the lights, Anita reminded her.

Lights? What lights? Severn asked.

Oh yes. Thanks for reminding me. For the masquerade.

We both gave her blank looks of incomprehension.

On Sunday night. It’s a costume parade. We will be opening the folding wall between the large conference room and the one next to it, then moving the chairs so there is a runway down the middle of the room. Anyone who wants to can parade their costumes. There will be prizes for both historic and fantasy and, if it’s anything like the ones at the science fiction conventions we’ve been to, it could get quite competitive. There should be some spectacular creations on display.

And you will need the runway lit up, Severn said, writing some more notes on his list. I’m guessing the room has a smooth ceiling so we’d better add in a couple of portable lighting trees to hang the lights on.

He did more rapid calculations then pushed the notebook to me so I could see what he had done. I nodded my appreciation and he winked back at me before turning his head to beam at Ngaire.

If I call in some favours, we can make this work. I wouldn’t normally offer to work with a zero budget but, hey, for friends of Riley I can make an exception. If you find who stole your money and get it back, we can talk about money then, but right now, you can stop panicking and leave it in the capable hands of the Guild of Traveller Technicians.

CHAPTER TWO

It’s going to cost heaps, I said as I clicked my seatbelt into position in the rental car Severn had kept when we had finished the show in Mona Vale and the other vampires had left. And where are we going to find all the gear if the hire places are already booked out?

We’re going shopping, Severn grinned. He started the engine and pulled away before he explained. I am about to go online and spend a whole heap of Guild money.

The Guild of Traveller Technicians? I laughed. Do they have any money?

"Hey, that was a