10 Date with Destiny - My Sister the Vampire (7 page)

Petra looked around. ‘Where is Tessa, anyway?’ she asked the other guests at the table, but nobody bothered to answer. The new girls’ presence had done nothing to thaw their ice-queen acts.

‘We’re not sure,’ Olivia chimed in, shifting in her seat. ‘I’m starting to get worr–’

‘I’m here! I’m here!’ Tessa rushed into the Banquet Hall before Horatio could properly announce her arrival. She skidded to a stop at the head of the dining table where the snooty vamp girls were staring open-mouthed.

She looked beautiful, but a little ragged. Her navy-blue dress hung unevenly and her up-do wasn’t as sleek as it could be.
Whoa
, thought Ivy,
where did that come from? Since when was I a serving member of the Fashion Police?
 
Clearly, Olivia had been rubbing off on her.

‘I’m late. Oh goodness, I know, I’m so late.’ Tessa smoothed her hair, tucking a hairgrip back into place.

Horatio nodded to the waiting servants and they swooped in with shiny platters of bite-sized appetisers: blood-sausage links wrapped in crescent rolls; miniature slivers of toast with pâté; and small vials of blood smoothie.

Tessa stood apart from the group and looked like she didn’t know how to proceed. Gone were the confidence and movie-star poise Ivy had seen earlier that day. In fact, she looked like the same shy serving girl Ivy had first met. She should have been commanding the room, not cowering in it. After all, it wouldn’t be long until she was
Princess
 
Tessa.

All eyes were on the bride-to-be, the silence more awkward than any Ivy had ever experienced. Tessa parted her lips and then seemed to think better of saying anything more. She even looked uncertain about whether or not she should take a seat!

‘Perhaps we should kick things off with a game,’ suggested Petra.

‘Great idea!’ Olivia clapped.

Ivy grinned to herself – not just at the sight of her twin’s excitement about party games, but because it was a Wallachia girl who had come to the rescue! She was starting to warm to Petra already. Maybe the famous school was not going to be full of stuck-up vamp girls, after all.

‘How about Secrets and Lies?’ A sly smile formed on Petra’s lips.

‘What’s that?’ asked Ivy and Olivia at the same time. They immediately both cringed. It was a little too creepily twin-tastic when they did the whole talk-in-unison thing. ‘Sorry,’ they both said.
Not again!

Petra just giggled. ‘It’s this cool vampire game where one person is asked a series of very direct, very personal questions.’ She drummed her fingertips together mischievously. ‘And the person being asked is supposed to tell the truth. It’s almost impossible to lie, since vampire sensitivity and super-hearing make us experts at knowing when people are lying. We can catch all the giveaways like subtleties in voice, tone – even the most minor change in heartbeat. One teensy untruth and we’ll call the liar out!’

Ivy glanced nervously at Olivia. She didn’t want her to feel left out since she was the only non-vampire in the room, but Olivia was leaning in, her elbows propped on the table. ‘Really?’ she asked excitedly. ‘You can tell just from listening to people talk?’

‘Sure can,’ said Petra, lifting her chin.

‘You know, you guys would make killer spies!’ Olivia’s eyes were wide.

‘The game?’ reminded Ivy before Olivia went too far off-track.

‘Right,’ said Petra. ‘Maybe Tessa can start, since it’s her ceremony and all.’

Tessa backed away, waving her hands in front of her. ‘No, that’s all right. Actually, I have to excuse myself. One moment.’ She held up a finger and Ivy noticed not only the sparkly engagement ring, but the way Tessa was trembling. ‘I’ll be right back.’

Ivy watched her leave the room, her navy gown swirling behind her. Something was definitely up with Tessa, but what could it be?

Ivana shook her head slowly. ‘Tsk, tsk. How rude. And
she’s
 
supposed to be a
princess
 
?’ She jutted her chin and stared down her nose. ‘But that’s probably just an indication of her upbringing.’

Arabella the Glamazon murmured her agreement.

Ivy opened her mouth to speak, but Petra beat her to it. ‘Sorry, Ivana. Let me get this straight.
You
 
think
Tessa
 
is rude? Not so long ago she would have been waiting on the people in this room and now she’s supposed to be sitting at the head of the table. Of course she’s going to be nervous. And people like you judging her upbringing isn’t going to help. Give her a break.’ Petra leaned back in her chair, folding her arms.

Ivy caught Petra’s eye and smiled. At least someone in this social circle was a little less uptight.

I
s it morning already?

Shards of light shot through the blinds like laser beams on to Olivia’s face. She buried her head in the crook of her arm, still sleepy. Maybe she wasn’t cut out to be a jet-setter. These changes in time zone were killing her!

Just as she was about to roll out of bed, Olivia stopped herself, feet dangling in mid air. In her exhausted state she had completely forgotten that she was on the top bunk of the custom-made bunk bed-and-coffin in their Transylvania bed chamber. She was
so
 
not in Franklin Grove any more.

This time, more carefully, Olivia slid her toes to where she could rest them on Ivy’s closed coffin lid and stepped softly down. Their grandparents had imported a top-of-the-line Interna-3 coffin just like Ivy used at home. They really did want the girls to feel comfortable in Transylvania.

Olivia rapped her knuckles on Ivy’s vampy version of a bed. ‘Hello? Anybody home?’ She cracked open the lid, but there was no Ivy. Was her sister up and about already? That was strange; Ivy loathed mornings. She always claimed to be allergic to ‘Before 9 a.m.’.

Olivia pulled on a denim skirt and a pale-pink V-neck. With any luck, Horatio would have a giant stack of pancakes ready and waiting. But just as her mouth was starting to water at the thought of melted butter and rich maple syrup, Olivia noticed the flickering yellow light of the desktop computer.

Ivy had left it in sleep mode.

She chewed her lip. It would be so easy to log on to the internet and check her emails. It would only take two minutes, tops. What could it hurt? Perhaps Jackson had sent her a message?
I know we promised not to get in touch but
 
. . . She couldn’t ignore the niggling ache in her heart whenever she imagined not speaking to him again.
Who knew that love and romance would turn out to be so painful?
 
Perhaps he’d been struggling too. After all, he found time to blog – wouldn’t he even be tempted to send her a message whilst he was on the computer? Or would it just make her all the more unhappy to find her inbox empty?

That settled it. She shoved a tube of lipgloss in her pocket and marched to the door. It was time to quit obsessing.
I have a life, you know!
 
But at the doorway she stopped short, a worm of curiosity wiggling into her brain.
OK, maybe for just a couple of minutes . . . max
.

Olivia sat down and tapped the keyboard, lighting up the screen. She held her breath as she logged on to her email. Her inbox popped up. There was an email from Camilla, one from Sophia and even one from her classmate Jenny, asking if she had any decorating tips for her cousin’s birthday party.

But there was nothing from Jackson.

She checked her junk mail – just in case. Still nothing. Her heart slid all the way down to her pink-varnished toes.

Olivia drummed her fingertips on the desk.
No biggie
. He had been practically living on movie sets. What could she expect? Olivia knew what making films was like – she knew it was crazily busy and that Jackson was probably not getting a moment to himself.
It’s not like I need him to check in every ten seconds, right?

Olivia typed the web address to
Jackson’s Journal
, the online blog he kept as a continuation of his bestselling book from earlier that year. He had probably only had time to jot a couple of lines of updates:
Such-and-such city is great! The movie’s good! I’m too exhausted to move!

The page loaded and, instead, Olivia was greeted with high-res photos of European landmarks. And not just any landmarks –
romantic
 
landmarks. There he was at the Eiffel Tower; and here he was lounging in the grass in front of the Leaning Tower of Pisa. He must have been taking a trip around Europe. Below each picture, he’d written long passages of text describing the sights and his thoughts about them.

Bonjour from the Tour d’Eiffel! Here I am in the City of Light and Love and may I just say: I’m totally digging it! Nicknamed the ‘Iron Lady’, the Eiffel Tower is even cooler up close than it is in pictures . . .

Olivia’s jaw dropped. These blog posts had
obviously
 
taken a long time to put together – but he couldn’t come up with a few minutes to write her one measly email! She felt her chest throb.

She shook herself. Where were these feelings coming from? And why was it that she almost didn’t want him to have a good time? She knew it was silly, but she’d somehow feel better if she knew he was missing her at least a little.
But noooo . . .
 
She did a mental eye-roll.
He’s off being Mr Big Movie Star and probably can’t even remember if I spell my last name with one ‘b’ or two.

She punched the power button and the screen went black. ‘
I
 
can be busy as well,
Jackson
,’ Olivia said as the tears began to well up in her eyes and clog her throat. She shoved back from the desk and marched to the door, pulling it open and colliding with Charles, who was passing on the landing. She stumbled backwards, starting to fall, but Charles snatched out a hand with vampire quickness to stop her.

‘That was a close one,’ he said, patting her shoulder.

‘It was a little painful.’ Olivia rubbed her forehead whilst trying to smile. Bumping into a vampire was like walking into a brick wall.

Charles chuckled. ‘My apologies, Olivia.’

She felt her head. She didn’t want a big, fat bump messing up the hair style she had planned for the wedding. ‘Do you know where Ivy’s gone?’

Charles adjusted his thin red tie and brushed the lapel of his navy blazer. ‘She’s out with your grandmother this morning.’ Olivia didn’t need to be told any more. It had to be Wallachia stuff – one more thing to give her a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.

It was starting to feel . . .
real
. Ivy might not be coming back to Franklin Grove with her. First Jackson and now her twin. It seemed like
everyone
 
was leaving her.

‘You’re welcome to join Lillian and me for breakfast out on the terrace,’ her bio-dad offered.

Olivia rubbed her temples, trying to erase the sad thoughts. ‘Thanks, but I think I’m going to skip breakfast and get some work done while Ivy’s away.’

Charles frowned. ‘It’s first thing in the morning. What is there to be done for your article?’

Olivia laughed at his bewilderment. ‘There is a wedding happening
tomorrow
 
in
this
 
house. And that means that somewhere in this ginormous mansion, there is some craziness happening; some task that needs some organising.’

Charles looked thoughtful. ‘You’re right. Weddings can take a lot of organising. The outfits, the wedding favours, the music for the first dance . . .’

Olivia shook her head.
Since when has he been thinking about all this sort of stuff?