06 Love Bites - My Sister the Vampire (4 page)

‘I know you’re not into the cheesy pink hearts stuff, but I wanted to get you something,’ Brendan said, looking embarrassed. ‘Especially because you’re gone the whole week of Valentine’s.’

Ivy felt her heart warm up. ‘Even though I made a complete bunny of myself in there, is the offer still open?’

Brendan nodded.

‘Because that lapis lazuli necklace was killer.’

Brendan grinned and let a bunch of daisy-shaped beads clatter into their slot. ‘Just promise me you’ll give up on the spy game,’ he said, smiling. ‘You’re not very good at it.’

Ivy nodded gratefully. ‘I promise.’

Maybe Valentine’s isn’t so cheesy after all,
Ivy thought.

Olivia was packing. Six casual outfits for the trip to Transylvania lay spread out on her four-poster bed, with her more formal outfits hanging from the antique full-length mirror in the corner.

‘Is that enough?’ she asked herself. ‘Or one more skirt?’

Something small and white flew through her bedroom door and landed on her baby-blue pea coat. Olivia picked up the papery globe. It was a clove of garlic.

Mrs Abbott poked her head through the doorway with a silly grin on her face. ‘You’ll need that to fight off all the vampires in Transylvania,’ she said.

Olivia forced herself to smile. ‘Ha ha!’ she replied weakly. Her adoptive mom and dad had no idea about her biological family’s unusual eating habits and preference for sleeping in coffins. That was the First Law of the Night:
no
one
could find out vampires really existed. Olivia was a rare human exception, and she was certain her mother wouldn’t let her get within a mile of Transylvania if she knew the truth.

‘Can I come in, honey?’ Mrs Abbott asked.

‘Sure,’ Olivia said, tossing back the clove of garlic and sorting through her accessories. ‘If you promise not to comment on the state of my room.’

‘I just wanted to say again that we’re so glad you’ve found your biological family.’ Olivia heard her mom’s voice crack. She glanced up and noticed that her mom had tears in her eyes. ‘Your dad and I are completely supportive of this trip you’re taking.’

Olivia gave her mom a big hug. ‘You and Dad are my parents, and Grammy and Pops are the best grandparents a girl could have.’ She didn’t want anyone in her family thinking she was
trying to replace them. She’d already figured out how to avoid the confusion of having two dads. Her dad, the one who’d raised her from a baby was ‘Dad’, while her biological dad was ‘Bio-dad’. ‘I just want to find out more about where I came from.’

‘I know, sweetie.’ Olivia’s mom sat on the bed. ‘Now, close your eyes.’

‘Um, OK.’ She closed her eyes and a moment later felt cool metal on her palm.

Olivia squinted from behind her eyelashes and squealed. It was a slim-line pink cell phone.
Super
pink.

‘You’re the best, Mom.’ Olivia hugged her again.

When they finally broke apart, Mrs Abbott said, ‘We bought international texting, so you can text us anytime you want to.’

‘I will every night,’ Olivia promised.

There was the sudden ring of an incoming
call. Olivia jumped with fright and the mobile phone flew up into the air. She only just managed to catch it before it hit the side of her vanity table.

Cheerleading agility 1, over-active imagination 0,
Olivia thought.

Olivia looked down at her shiny new present, amazed that anyone could have the new number already. But it was her bedroom phone that was ringing.

‘Hello?’ Olivia said, as her mom gave a little wave and left her to her privacy.

‘T-minus twelve hours,’ Ivy said.

‘I know,’ Olivia replied. ‘I’m almost done packing. How’s your, um, backside?’

After Olivia heard Ivy squealing on the phone at the mall, Ivy had called back. They’d arranged to meet up and as they’d walked to the Meat and Greet she’d explained the whole story about her
undercover espionage – and the unfortunate incident with the jewellery rack. Olivia had dropped the newly converted Valentine’s Day lovebirds at the diner while she’d come straight home for her packing session.

‘Still sore,’ Ivy confessed. ‘I just hope it doesn’t have little heart shapes imprinted on it forever.’

Olivia laughed. ‘So, are you packed?’ she asked.

‘I’m, um, making progress,’ Ivy said.

‘You mean, you’ve finally dragged your suitcase down from the closet and are calling me to drag your feet even more?’ Olivia guessed.

‘You know me too well,’ Ivy admitted. ‘But there is method in my madness. I just wanted to confess that you were right.’

Olivia pretended to gasp. ‘Me? Right?’

‘Ha ha,’ Ivy said. ‘You were right in saying that Valentine’s Day isn’t that bad and getting surprise presents is very nice.’

Olivia felt her stomach twist. ‘Getting surprise presents
is
nice,’ she replied quietly.
Jackson hasn’t even given me a
card.

‘Uh oh,’ Ivy said. ‘I can hear you not-smiling.’

Olivia stroked her soft silver cashmere-mix sweater and sighed.

‘I’m just worried about being homesick when we get to Transylvania,’ Olivia said, deciding that bringing up Jackson would only take away from Ivy’s happy Brendan feelings.

‘Don’t you worry,’ Ivy said. ‘We are bound to have an amazing time, and everyone is going to make us feel right at home.’

‘I’m sure
you’ll
be right at home,’ Olivia replied, imagining shadowy castles, fog and mist, vampires that might be old enough to remember what it was like to actually eat humans . . . gulp.

‘This is your family too, Olivia,’ Ivy insisted. ‘They are going to love us both equally. Just you
wait. Now, the black roll-neck sweater or the skull-design hooded top? Which do you think?’

Olivia laughed. ‘You’ll look perfect in either,’ she told her sister. As she put the phone down and put the last few items in her suitcase, she felt a jangle of nerves in her stomach.

Tomorrow, she would be in Transylvania.

Ivy stepped into the Arrivals lounge, bright and bustling with people chattering in Romanian. She felt as fresh as a daisy – or as a vampire who’d slept well in their coffin.

Poor Olivia, though, seemed frazzled beyond recognition. Her eyes were the same colour pink as her sweater and her normally healthy-looking skin looked almost as white as a vampire’s. She’d barely slept a wink.

‘I’ll take care of your passports, girls,’ said Mr Vega from behind her, wheeling his suitcase.

‘Oh my darkness, I can’t believe we’re finally
here,’ Ivy said, passing hers over.

‘How long until we get to the house?’ Olivia mumbled, her eyes drooping. She stumbled and her bag’s wheels clattered on the shiny tile floor.

‘You can sleep in the car, my dear,’ Mr Vega replied, putting his arm around Olivia’s shoulder and giving her a squeeze.

Ivy stopped short. An unusually tall man in an all-black uniform and an old-fashioned driving cap was holding a sign that said ‘Olivia + Ivy’.

She hurried over. ‘We’re Olivia plus Ivy!’ she announced.

The man tipped his hat. ‘I am honoured to be first to say
welcome
, beautiful Miss Ivy.’ He took Ivy’s suitcase out of her hand. ‘I’m Horatio, Lazar family butler for four generations. And this must be lovely Miss Olivia?’

‘You speak English!’ Ivy blurted, knowing straight away how rude she sounded. Her face
coloured. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘I wasn’t sure if anyone would be able to.’

Horatio smiled. ‘In our town everyone is taught English from a young age.’ He pulled his shoulders back as he beamed with pride. ‘We have an excellent education system here.’

‘I can see that,’ Ivy said, wondering how long it would take her to learn Romanian.

‘You aren’t wearing a cowboy hat,’ Horatio said, peering at Olivia and frowning.

‘Um . . .’ Olivia looked as confused as Ivy felt.

‘Oh ho ho!’ Horatio chuckled deeply, like Santa Claus. ‘I’m joking! All Americans on TV wear cowboy hats.’

Ivy realised he was trying to be friendly and grinned when Horatio shook their hands gravely.

Horatio turned to their dad. ‘Welcome home, Mr Lazar.’ He picked up both the girls’ fully packed suitcases with one arm.

‘Please, Horatio, call me Charles, Charles
Vega.’
Ivy could see her dad was feeling uncomfortable. He kept running a hand through his hair. Her dad hadn’t spoken to his family in years and he’d changed his identity entirely just to avoid them. Ivy hoped this trip wasn’t going to be too awkward for him.

‘It’s great to meet you, Mr Horatio,’ Ivy said. ‘I hope you’ll tell us stories about when Dad was our age and getting into trouble.’

Horatio’s face broke into a grin, revealing teeth as crooked as abandoned gravestones. ‘Once, on a visit to the palace, I caught him smuggling one of Queen’s pet ferrets –’

‘That is enough of that story, Horatio!’

Ivy grinned as her normally composed dad actually
blushed.
‘I think we are all keen to bring this journey to an end,’ she said.

Horatio tipped his hat again and resumed his
serious expression. But while her dad was putting their passports into his briefcase, Horatio leant down and whispered, ‘I’ll tell you the rest later.’

Ivy smiled and slipped her arm through Horatio’s. He led her out into the chilly Romanian afternoon. She could just make out the tops of mountains in the distance, well beyond the airport.

Waiting outside, being ignored by the attendant shooing away other parked cars, was a sleek grey four-by-four with black-tinted windows. Horatio opened the door and Ivy saw soft leather seats and two velvety blankets for her and Olivia to stay warm under.

‘Ooh,’ Olivia said appreciatively and climbed inside.

It was a little bit more . . . formal . . . than Ivy was expecting, but she followed her sister.

Once they were tucked in, Horatio poured
them both a cup of hot tea from a Thermos. Ivy shifted in her seat and banged her hand against the side of the door, leaving a little line where the metal claw of her ring scratched the leather.

Ivy gulped. As her dad got into the front seat, she sat stiffly, trying not to move so she wouldn’t ruin anything else.
I’m not used to this luxurious lifestyle,
she thought.
And it’s not used to me.

Five minutes later, Olivia was snoring lightly. As they drove, the city buildings turned into lush countryside. Ivy had never seen anything so beautiful. Deep green grass stretched for miles into the distance, where the sharp, snow-covered mountains loomed. The car followed a sparkling, slow-moving river and then drove through a village where the closely-packed houses were painted bright red, yellow and blue. They glided past stone mansions and rustic inns. Ivy felt
like she had been whisked into a magical fairytale land.

But I’m no princess,
she thought. She tried to reassure herself:
I suppose I’ll adjust.

After an hour and a half, they turned on to a road that cut through a thick forest. Trees towered over the car like the vaulted ceiling of a cathedral. They blocked out the sun and it was almost as if it were already night.

Olivia woke up as the road narrowed and got bumpy.

Mr Vega twisted in his seat and gave them a tense smile. ‘We do not have far to go now, my daughters.’

Ivy hadn’t been worried before, but with the butler and the fancy car, she was feeling like she wasn’t really prepared to meet her family. What if she kept making a mess? Or she said the wrong thing? She hadn’t really thought what being
related to a Count and Countess meant.

Olivia reached out for her sister’s hand and Ivy was glad for the millionth time that she had her twin by her side.

When we left I was trying to perk up Olivia,
Ivy thought.
Now I’m the one feeling jumpy.

‘Before we arrive,’ Mr Vega said, ‘I want to say something. The three of us are a family and I will never let anything come between us again.’

Ivy saw Horatio glance over at her dad.

Maybe the same goes for the Count and Countess?
Ivy hoped. She’d love it if her dad and his parents were able to put their differences behind them.

Moments later, Horatio turned the car down a tree-lined lane and paused at tall iron gates that swung open automatically. They then rolled up the long, sloping drive.

‘That is the vineyard, dormant for winter.’ Horatio pointed out of the left window at
neat rows of wooden frames with brown vines clinging to them. ‘And the stables are on the right. I’m afraid the lake house at the back of the property is closed but you might get a chance to skate on the frozen lake.’

The lake house!
Ivy mouthed to her sister.

Then, the house came into view.

‘How old is this place?’ Ivy asked, staring up at the six towers casting imposing shadows across the lawn.

‘Only three hundred years old,’ Horatio said dismissively.

It was even bigger than the gothic building that housed the entire Franklin Grove Middle School. The dozens of windows along the long facade were dark and uninviting. As they came to a stop, Ivy could see gargoyles on the rooftop. They seemed to stare down disapprovingly. Normally, Ivy would be all about the gargoyles,
but she was feeling so out of place.