Olivia sucked in a breath as the realisation rocketed through her. ‘Could that be it? She’s always talking about Bare Throats at Sunset. But if she was somehow related to the author, why wouldn’t she have said so? And what’s this got to do with the blog?’
‘There’s only one way to find out,’ Ivy said.
‘You’re right.’ Olivia sighed. ‘It’s time to talk to Holly and find out the truth.’
She stood up, steeling herself. When she turned around, though, she saw the Countess standing in the doorway. The Count and their dad came to stand behind her.
‘There’s absolutely no reason for you girls to bother yourselves any more,’ their grandmother said warmly. ‘You’ve done a brilliant job investigating, but now we’ll deal with Holly.’
Olivia felt a ripple of uneasiness. ‘What do you mean “deal with Holly”?’
‘Oh, nothing to worry about.’ The Countess waved a hand through the air. ‘A mere case of . . . misdirecting her. We’ve been doing it for centuries. How else do you think we could have kept ourselves secret for so long?’
Behind her, the Count nodded sternly. Even Olivia’s bio-dad had a hard, business-like look on his face. She felt a flutter of nerves as she looked around the circle of faces.
No matter what her mistakes had been, Holly was Olivia’s friend. And now Olivia’s grandmother was talking about their way to ‘deal with’ their current problem?
‘The look on your face!’ The Countess began to laugh, raising one hand to her mouth. ‘Oh, Olivia, my dear, no, no, no ! There’s not a thing for you to worry about, I promise.’
But still . . .
Ivy stepped up to Olivia’s side. ‘Can you just put things on hold for a few hours? The two of us might be able to handle this quietly.’
The Countess frowned. ‘My dears, this is a serious matter.’
‘We know that,’ Olivia said. ‘But we have a strategy we want to try out first. Isn’t that right, Ivy?’
She kept her gaze fixed on her grandmother’s face, but in the corner of her eye, she saw Ivy looking at her bug-eyed. She wasn’t surprised – she hadn’t had a chance to share the plan she was forming. But surely . . .
Yes. Like the faithful twin she was, Ivy nodded in agreement, on Olivia’s side as always. ‘We do,’ Ivy confirmed. ‘Will you trust us enough to try it? Please?’
The Countess’s eyes flickered over to Ivy. Her face turned grim. ‘Can you promise me that you won’t let us down this time?’
Olivia winced. She knew her hot-tempered twin. How much needling could Ivy take before she finally lost her patience? If that happened, everything could be lost.
But when she turned to look at Ivy, she found her twin the picture of calm composure. Ivy looked straight into their grandmother’s eyes as she spoke, her voice clear and confident: ‘Grandma, I have never let you down before.’
‘Oh?’ The Countess arched one eyebrow, her face hardening. ‘Have you already forgotten Wallachia Academy? Did our wishes mean so little to you then?’
‘Never,’ Ivy repeated. ‘You and Grandpa will always be important to me – but I’ve always made the choices that were true to myself. Isn’t that what the best vampires do?’
For a moment, Olivia couldn’t breathe as she watched emotions flicker across their grandmother’s face – irritation, surprise and then finally acceptance.
The Countess nodded as graciously as a queen. ‘I understand,’ she said. Her face softened, and she reached out to lay one hand on Ivy’s shoulder. ‘Yes, girls. I trust you both. Do what you have to.’
‘Thank you!’ Olivia gasped. She traded a relieved glance with Ivy and hurried out of the kitchen.
‘Go on, then,’ the Countess called after them. ‘But if you can’t resolve this issue by dusk, we’ll have to do it our way.’
‘We understand,’ Ivy said.
Olivia pulled Ivy to a halt at the living-room door. Inside, her dad was glumly ordering ugly clothes online while wedding catalogues lay ignored at his feet.
‘Dad?’ Olivia said. ‘Can we invite a friend to your engagement party?’
‘Of course!’ His expression lightened for the first time that morning as he looked up at Olivia. ‘It’s nice to have someone remember what’s really important around here.’ With a guilty look towards the dining room, he nudged one of his wedding catalogues open with the toe of his shoe and took a quick peek inside.
‘What are you doing?’ Ivy whispered. ‘Why do you want to invite someone? You can’t –’