For the first time since their falling out, Ivy voluntarily made eye contact with Olivia. She drew a finger across her throat and let her eyes roll back in her head.
Olivia felt her heartbeat speeding up. Vampires wouldn’t really go to such lengths to avenge themselves would they?
No, she thought. Of course they wouldn’t . . . right ?
She darted a glance at Charles and saw him staring hard at the floor, as if unable to meet her eyes.
Oh no, for real ?
‘Are you sure that isn’t a bit, um, excessive?’ she whispered.
‘Well, I don’t know, dear,’ the Count said, clearing his throat noisily. ‘We take these threats very seriously.’ Olivia noticed that his shoulders were shaking as he turned his face away from her.
Was the Countess actually wiping a tear from her eye? Olivia swivelled back to look at Ivy, who was biting her knuckles with the effort of holding back laughter. Finally, a huge snort erupted from Charles as his whole body trembled with repressed chuckles.
‘You’re all pranking me!’ Olivia was able to breathe again, a smile of relief spreading across her face. She grabbed a sofa cushion to swing at Ivy. ‘It’s not my fault! I don’t know what vampire tradition is when it comes to this sort of thing!’
‘Don’t apologise, my dear. We enjoyed the joke.’ The Countess patted Olivia’s hand, her eyes still gleaming with amusement. ‘But it is time to be serious once more. This intertrap – that is, this Internet person has drawn attention to Franklin Grove. Now the rumour is out about vampires living among humans in a normal American town – and do you know what that means?’
Charles let out a heartfelt groan. ‘The VITs.’
Moans of unhappy agreement filled the room. Lillian closed her eyes as if she were in pain.
‘Uh . . .’ Meekly, Olivia put up her hand. ‘What’s a VIT?’
‘A Vampire-Investigating Tourist.’ Lillian shuddered as if she were naming an exotic kind of cockroach. ‘Someone who gets wind of vampires’ existence and travels across the country to check it out.’
‘Oh.’ Olivia’s eyes widened. ‘And now that the blogger’s told everybody that Franklin Grove is a haven for vamps –’
‘We’re going to see many more strangers in town,’ Charles finished for her grimly. ‘And they’ll all be on the look-out.’
‘Which is why Franklin Grove vampires must go undercover, just like us.’ The Countess threw a pointed glance at Ivy’s vamptastic dark clothes. ‘Those will certainly have to be toned down!’
‘Fine.’ Ivy heaved a sigh. ‘I can wear some of Olivia’s clothes, I guess. No one will think I’m a vampire with all that pink!’
Olivia gave her a sympathetic smile. She knew how much Ivy would hate that disguise.
But the Countess was shaking her head. ‘Absolutely not,’ she declared. ‘You mustn’t change your appearance too drastically. Otherwise, the people who already know you well will start thinking something’s wrong. And if the same people read that dreadful blag –’
Horatio cleared his throat, and the Countess scowled.
‘Blog ! They may put two and two together.’ Clasping both hands around her glass of iced tea, she pinned Ivy with an eagle-like glare. ‘You must be very, very careful about how you tone down your image. You’re to become invisible.’
‘Sorry?’ Ivy choked on her iced tea. ‘Grandma, you and Grandpa and Horatio are hardly subtle and toned down with your image!’
‘Ah, but nobody really knows us in Franklin Grove. That means this isn’t an image change – anyone who sees us will simply assume this is our normal dress-sense.’ The Countess gestured with her iced tea at Horatio’s bright-pink checked shorts, which revealed the dignified butler to have surprisingly knobbly knees.
Olivia stifled a giggle. It was certainly a dress-sense . . . but ‘normal’ was not the first word that came to mind!
Ivy rolled her eyes. ‘Are you sure this is all really necessary? Making us all get bunnified just because of one blogger? Can’t we just –’
‘Ivy Vega.’ The Countess’s voice was suddenly as cold as ice, her hard gaze focused on her vampire granddaughter. ‘Don’t you think helping the local community is the least you can do after . . .?’
She let her last words drift off, but everyone knew what they would have been: after abandoning her studies in Transylvania. The Count and Countess obviously had not yet forgiven Ivy for leaving Wallachia.
Tradition meant everything to Olivia’s and Ivy’s grandparents, and as far as they were concerned, when Ivy had walked away from Wallachia, she had turned her back on tradition – and on them.
Olivia’s heart melted at the misery on her sister’s face. She put an arm around Ivy, hugging her close. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘We’ll find out who the blogger is in no time. Then you can go right back to doing what you do best – being a totally fangtastic vampire!’