Secrets and Spies(33)

The bitterness disappeared from her voice, though, as she leaned forwards. ‘Yes, of course. You’re the daughter of a vampire father . . . who broke an older, far more serious rule than I ever did.’

‘That’s right.’ Taking Carla’s hand, Ivy met her gaze full-on. ‘I know it’s not fair,’ she said, ‘and I’m here to help in any way I can.’

She opened her mouth to say more, then stopped, biting her lip. If she mentioned that her dad was planning to talk to his royal connections, she might get Carla’s hopes up . . . and if anything went wrong, Brendan’s aunt would be crushed.

Carla sighed, sliding her hand away. ‘I’m sorry for what I said before,’ she said. ‘This whole situation has just made me really emotional. Being so close to Franklin Grove, after so long away . . . well, I’m homesick.’

‘That’s OK.’ Ivy smiled reassuringly. ‘I know a little bit about how that feels.’ Just the memory of her time at the snooty Wallachia Academy, so far away from her family and friends, made her wince.

Carla caught the movement. ‘Oh?’ She cocked her head. ‘When were you sent away?’

‘It’s . . . a long story, for another time.’ Ivy looked over Carla’s head at the service door of the diner, which was just swinging open. ‘And look, here comes the waitress.’

All four vampires went silent as the smiling waitress approached. ‘How can I help you folks today?’

‘Ah,’ Carla picked up a menu. ‘I’ll have a steak, please. Extra rare.’

‘Sounds good, ma’am. Now, would you prefer that with potatoes or artichokes?’ The waitress waited expectantly, her pen hovering above her notepad.

As everyone else turned to look at her, Carla gave a tight smile. ‘Potatoes,’ she said. ‘Trust me. I’m allergic to artichokes.’

An hour and a half later, Ivy was walking hand-in-hand with Brendan down his street, heading towards the Daniels house without any hurry. As Brendan swung her hand in his, he looked more relaxed than she’d seen him in days.

‘Well, that went a lot better than I was expecting.’ He grinned, his dark hair falling over his forehead. ‘Although, I could definitely see in Aunt Carla the same stubbornness that I’ve seen in my dad this week. They are so related!’

‘Absolutely.’ Ivy sighed. ‘I hope we can figure things out for them soon. Ever since I got a sister of my own, I’ve never been able to understand how siblings could ever fall out. It must be miserable for both of them.’

‘Yeah.’ Brendan echoed her sigh as they came to a halt in front of his house. ‘Well . . . here goes.’

Ivy squeezed his hand. ‘Do you want me to come in with you? If your dad’s still angry, it might be good for you guys to have company, to give him some time to cool off.’

‘Ivy Vega, you are the best.’ Brendan pulled her in for a warm hug. ‘I would love for you to hang out for a bit,’ he whispered into her hair, ‘but you don’t have to worry about my dad. He seemed pretty calm this morning.’

But when they stepped inside a moment later, the house looked as if it had been turned inside-out. Uh-oh, Ivy thought, as she looked at the books and papers scattered around the living room. What’s going on?

Loud clattering noises sounded in the next room, along with the sound of a busy printer in the office. Brendan’s dad swept into the living room a minute later, his arms full of maps and guidebooks. ‘Brendan! Ivy!’ he said warmly. ‘What do you two know about a town called Pine Wood?’

‘Um . . .?’ Ivy shrugged. It rang a vague bell, but –

Brendan frowned. ‘Wasn’t there a girl from Franklin Grove who moved there over the summer? Debi something?’

‘That’s right!’ Ivy said. ‘She was a cheerleader – Olivia would know.’ Aha! Now she remembered. ‘Actually, Olivia’s going to do some filming there just before Thanksgiving!’

Brendan frowned. ‘But, Dad, why are you asking?’ As he looked at his dad, suspicion gathered on his face.

Before Marc Daniels could say a word, a loud ringing sounded from the computer in the study.

‘Here, take these!’ Mr Daniels bundled the maps and guidebooks into Brendan’s hands. ‘I have to answer this call!’

Juggling his armful, Brendan followed straight after his dad. Ivy followed Brendan into the small study, where even more maps were being printed as they entered.

A video-messaging programme was blinking in alert on the computer screen, and the ID on the caller read: Boss-Man.

Ivy raised her eyebrows at Brendan as the two of them stepped back, out of sight.

‘Dad’s boss,’ Brendan whispered.

Then they both went silent as the call clicked on.