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.
Chapter Three
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.