There’s that word again, Ivy thought. What are they trying to tell me?
‘Like when you hit Horatio with the coffin lid this morning,’ the Countess pointed out.
Ivy winced. She hadn’t meant to greet the day quite so vigorously. She glanced over at Horatio, who was standing a short distance away, watching over the Lazars. His eyes followed the waitress as she wiped down tables, cleared cups and scooted chairs under tables – all Horatio’s usual jobs. He looked positively twitchy. He could do these tasks at twice the pace. Just as Ivy was about to turn back, she noticed a plaster stuck to Horatio’s temple. She shrank back in the booth. Did I do that? Then a worse thought occurred to her. Hitting Horatio was awful, but he was sturdy enough to handle the blow. What if it had been Olivia that I’d hit with the coffin lid? I could have knocked her unconscious!
‘I didn’t mean to!’ Ivy pressed her hand to her chest. She was suddenly feeling panicky. She was a walking natural disaster! ‘Are you sure there wasn’t a defect in the coffin? Maybe we should check.’
‘It’s OK.’ The Countess reached across the table to hold Ivy’s hand. ‘There are ways to control your powers.’
‘Like a pill?’ she asked, envisioning herself as part of some freaky science experiment.
‘No, nothing like that,’ her grandmother reassured her. ‘It’s a school, actually. All Transylvanian vampires go to Wallachia Academy.’
Ivy had never heard of Wallachia. She couldn’t even guess how to spell it.
‘It’s like a finishing school,’ explained the Count. ‘In fact, Wallachia is the premier place to learn to control powers and be a good vampire.’
Charles nodded. ‘I studied there.’ He straightened his shoulders, suddenly looking like a proud alumnus. Ivy was shocked. She had never known her dad had attended finishing school!
‘And we met there.’ Ivy’s grandfather winked at the Countess and Ivy blushed. She had never seen her grandparents act so lovey-dovey in public! ‘In fact,’ the Count continued, ‘everyone in the entire Lazar line has attended Wallachia. Oh, it’s beautiful! Wrought-iron gates, towering castle spires, you’ll love it!’
‘I will?’ asked Ivy, confused.
The Countess placed her hand on her husband’s arm. ‘We’re getting ahead of ourselves. Ivy, we’d like it if you would come to Transylvania to study there, too.’
Ivy sat stunned. She knew she should say something and yet the only thought in her head was that she didn’t have one thought in her head. She turned to look at Olivia. She’d been cornered by Charlotte, who’d just arrived, dressed head-to-toe in pink – pink cardigan, pink hair-ribbon and shiny pink lipgloss.
‘Olivia!’ Charlotte circled her interview subject, camera in hand. ‘Can you tell us about the progress being made on the dance? Do we have a theme yet? What about a colour palette?’ Charlotte asked the questions at rapid-fire speed.
Even though Olivia gave a swift eye roll, Ivy could still tell her sister was happy to be in front of the camera. Her face lit up, her posture straightened – Olivia was a total natural.
The Countess followed Ivy’s stare. ‘Who is that girl with the orange skin?’ she asked, pressing her hand over her mouth.
Ivy snickered. ‘That is Charlotte.’
Her grandmother squinted to peer closer. ‘Oh my. Well, that certainly is an interesting look.’
Charlotte shuffled around Olivia to shoot a new angle. ‘FYI, this is so your good side. Now, give me a look that says, “I’m overworked.”’
The corners of Olivia mouth curved down and she scrunched her face. ‘Huh?’
‘That’s perfect!’ Charlotte took a step back, knocking over a glass with her elbow. Ivy spotted a blur of motion and the corner of a tablecloth whipping up. It was Horatio. Like a superhero, he lunged for the smoothie cup that had been knocked from the table, catching it in a split second. His reflexes had been so fast, not one of the bunnies had even seen him in action. But there he was, adjusting the glass like he’d been there all along. Ivy looked on, amazed. So maybe there were advantages to honing her powers.
Ivy returned her attention to her grandparents, noticing that the Count had nearly drained his Tutti Frutti smoothie already. ‘So it’s like vamp summer school?’ she asked.
The Countess pursed her lips, sharing a look with Ivy’s grandfather. ‘Well . . . you may have to attend a bit longer than that. The teachers give their assessment only after an initial appraisal.’
‘Longer? Longer than a summer?’ Ivy chewed her lip, thankful her fangs were filed. She wished this conversation wasn’t happening behind Olivia’s back. This had come as such a surprise; she was badly in need of some sister-support. All this talk was stressing her out. Ivy could actually feel her blood pressure spike. She slid her smoothie closer and took another long sip. Every muscle in her body was tense. Her hands tightened around her glass and then – crack! – it shattered, and bright red smoothie flooded the table like molten lava from a volcano.
‘Oops.’ Ivy’s cheeks felt warm. ‘Maybe I do have a bit of that super-strength.’ She tried to scoop the broken glass into a pile, but it was no use. There was smoothie everywhere!
Ivy’s dad chuckled. ‘A bit?’
Thankfully, Horatio appeared with a small bottle of Spray and Shine and began wiping up Ivy’s mess. ‘Not to worry, Miss Ivy. I can take care of this straight away.’
Where does he keep that thing? Ivy wondered. In a flash, the table was spotless. Meanwhile, Olivia had finished her interview with Charlotte and was walking over to rejoin the family.
To Ivy’s surprise, though, her grandparents looked alarmed. ‘Ivy, listen.’ Her grandmother leaned over the table. ‘You can’t tell your sister about Wallachia Academy under any circumstances.’ She glanced quickly in Olivia’s direction. ‘It’s one of the greatest vampire academies. Non-vampires can never know about it.’ The Countess looked seriously grave over this last point.