Walking through Franklin Grove felt like exploring a completely different town from the one Ivy had known for so long. There were no dark-clothed vampires nodding at her companionably or heading towards the Blood Mart. Instead, they walked through near-empty streets. The only people Ivy and Brendan passed were occasional groups of bunnies, who obviously had no idea that anything was wrong.
Brendan let out a muffled snort as they passed one group of five bunnies wearing identical T-shirts. Lost in her own thoughts, Ivy hadn’t paid any attention to them, but after her boyfriend’s reaction, she took a look . . . and had to restrain herself from gasping out loud.
Hunt out the Franklin Grove vampires !
‘It’s a joke,’ Brendan whispered into Ivy’s ear as she stiffened with outrage. ‘Look, they’re all laughing. They think the blog’s funny, that’s all.’
‘Right. Hilarious,’ Ivy muttered. ‘I can’t stop laughing.’ Her hands clenched into fists.
If all those happy bunnies had any idea how many vampires were hiding at home – scared – tonight, while they all laughed about that blog . . .
‘They’re looking this way,’ Brendan hissed.
Ivy forced a smile as the group members waved and pointed at their shirts. She even managed to follow Brendan’s lead and give a hollow laugh at the slogan. But she was still shaking with frustration and anger when they turned off the street a minute later to walk through the tall, spike-tipped iron gates of Franklin Grove’s graveyard.
Tombs and headstones loomed in the darkness, while the night wind sighed around them, whispering through Ivy’s hair. An owl hooted in the distance, and there were scuttling noises in the undergrowth. As they moved forwards, a twig snapped under Brendan’s feet and Ivy almost jumped out of her skin.
Gritting her teeth, she stomped between the graves. I’m a vampire, not a bunny – I will not be creeped out by this place !
Gesturing to Brendan, she pressed herself against the side of an old stone tomb the size of a small hut. It was more than big enough to shield them from the sight of anyone arriving.
‘Good idea,’ Brendan whispered, as he took his place behind her. ‘Let’s hope the blogger doesn’t take too long to show up.’
‘If that stupid blogger keeps me waiting . . .’ Ivy began. Then she saw a hooded figure arrive at the other end of the graveyard, and she had to bite back a yelp.
Oops. She grimaced, glad that Brendan couldn’t see her face. I guess this place has creeped me out a bit after all.
Creepy atmosphere or not, Ivy wasn’t letting any dumb bunny blogger scare her. Craning her neck to keep the hooded figure in her line of vision, she watched carefully as the blogger walked between the graves. Moving from gravestone to family tomb, the figure’s face and body were shrouded in darkness. Ivy realised she was holding her breath. Then the person stepped beneath the glow of a streetlight beyond the graveyard’s fence and . . .
Oh no, this is as bad as garlic bread for breakfast. Ivy’s stomach did a parachute drop as she recognised the face inside the sweatshirt hood and the appliquéd jeans. Olivia is going to be so upset; I wish I hadn’t been right after all.
She swallowed hard. All day, she’d been excited at the thought of exposing the blogger, and thrilled to have followed the clues to Holly’s secret. Now that Ivy saw the other girl on her own in the graveyard in the dead of night, reality hit with a thud. Olivia was going to be crushed . . . and, despite everything, Ivy felt a sudden stab of pity and concern.
Holly had no idea who she was really meeting tonight. For all she knew, she could have put herself in serious danger by coming here. She must be really desperate. Why is she doing this ?
And, even more importantly, how was Ivy going to break this to her sister? What if Olivia didn’t even believe her – or thought she was just overreacting, out of a dislike of the new girl? Ivy shared a worried glance with Brendan . . . and realised exactly what she needed.
Proof ! Reaching into the pocket of her leather jacket, Ivy whipped out her camera. As she started to raise it, though, she hesitated, torn once again by pity. Holly must be really unhappy, if she has to go to all this trouble and danger just to be noticed . . .
But I have to do this. It’s what I came for ! Ivy took a deep, steadying breath. She owed this to the vampire community, to her grandparents . . . and even to Olivia. She has to know the truth about her friend.
Gritting her teeth in determination, Ivy snapped three photos in a row – but the sound of the shutter broke the silence in the cemetery.
Holly swirled around. ‘Who’s there? Come out and show yourselves!’
Drat. No way did Ivy want to confront Holly now, before she’d even had a chance to talk to Olivia about it. She and Brendan both froze, hoping to stay unnoticed.
Footsteps approached. Ivy took a deep breath.
Brendan tapped her shoulder and pointed at a wide crack in the wall of the tomb, leading into deeper darkness. Swallowing down revulsion, Ivy nodded. Together, they squeezed inside the crack. Something soft and slimy squelched around Ivy’s legs, and she shuddered. It’s just a pile of old, dead leaves, she told herself, but that didn’t help much, especially when she imagined what kind of creatures might be crawling or wriggling around in those leaves, just like in the compost heap back home. Cobwebs tangled against her cheeks and shoulders. At least I’m only ruining a stupid bunny outfit, Ivy thought.
She held her breath as Holly did a circuit of the tomb. Holly’s footsteps paused just centimetres from the crack, and Ivy started to feel light-headed with lack of air. Then the footsteps finally retreated. Ivy let out all her held breath in a whoosh.
‘Ewww!’ She climbed out as fast as she could, dusting herself off.
Brendan followed her, slapping cobwebs off his clothes and kicking his feet against the stone tomb to dislodge slimy leaves. Despite everything, he was grinning widely when he met Ivy’s eyes. ‘You did it,’ he said, ‘and you’ve got absolute proof! May I escort you home now, Madam Detective?’
Ivy bumped shoulders with him. ‘Yeah. Let’s go home,’ she said.