Ivy’s grandmother dabbed at the corners of her mouth with a black cloth napkin. ‘Well, darling. Have you put any more thought into Wallachia Academy?’ An emerald necklace glittered at the Countess’s neck, casting green prisms of light on the dining-room table.
No. In fact, Ivy had been trying her best to avoid the subject completely. ‘Not really,’ she confessed. The thought of leaving Franklin Grove behind was almost too much to bear. But, on the other hand, so was the thought of disappointing her grandparents.
The Countess folded her hand over the Count’s. ‘We really think it would be for the best.’
‘And that you would grow to love it. Did we mention it’s in a big Gothic castle? With flying buttresses and beautiful stone gargoyles and spindly towers,’ Ivy’s grandfather added. He had traded his crimson coat for a sleek black tuxedo jacket. ‘And you should see the kitchens!’ He winked at Ivy, and she knew he was thinking about all the pizza she could eat there.
‘Oh, yes! And the professors are top-notch. Nowhere in the world is there such a robust curriculum for young vampires.’ Ivy thought maybe her grandmother ought to do a second stint there if she was so excited about it.
‘All in a school?’ she asked, pushing the leftover meat around on her plate.
The Countess’s eyes sparkled. ‘That’s what we’ve been trying to tell you. Wallachia Academy is not just any old school. It is the best vampire academy in the world. It was founded by Vladimir Ivanov, the longest-living vampire of all time, and it has produced some of the finest vampire thespians, artists and Nobel laureates. Every generation of the Lazar family has attended – even your father did. Going there, you will learn all sorts of new vampire skills. Plus, you’ll learn to control your powers. What could be better?’
Ivy sighed. ‘I get that you want me to attend, but I don’t know if Wallachia Academy is the right place for me.’
‘Of course, we understand you don’t want to leave your friends behind, or Olivia. We’d never ask you to do anything that would make you truly unhappy, but we honestly believe this is the best thing for you. We’re sure you’d thank us one day,’ said the Countess. ‘We promise.’
Ivy’s pulse quickened. ‘I don’t know how, when I can’t even tell my sister where I’m going!’
‘This isn’t just about us, Ivy.’ Her grandfather pushed back from the table. ‘These vampire secrets have to be respected. Which is another important thing you’ll learn at Wallachia Academy.’
‘For your information, sharing the vampire secret with Olivia was one of the best things I’ve ever done. Can’t you see that not all secrets are worth keeping?’ Ivy knew her voice was getting so loud that she was almost shouting, but she couldn’t help it. It looked as if her grandparents might spontaneously combust, their faces were so pink.
The Count’s voice was steady when he finally spoke. ‘Ivy, you’re not appreciating how important your vampire heritage is to all of us. If it wasn’t, we wouldn’t have travelled halfway around the world to talk to you – and at our age, too.’
Ivy felt like she’d been stabbed through with an iron stake. ‘I’m sorry if you left Transylvania because of me, but . . . but . . .’ Ivy couldn’t finish her sentence. She was too close to tears. ‘I’m sorry,’ she managed to say at last. ‘I need to be alone right now.’ Then she sprinted to her room, squeezing past Horatio, who stood by the doorway with his gloved hands folded in front of him. Her father called after her, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t. The only person she wanted to talk to was Brendan. She grabbed her cell phone from her nightstand and slammed the door to her bedroom. Since when did I become the drama queen?
She slid open her window, hiked one leg over the sill and climbed down the trellis out into the backyard. She hoped the fresh air would help clear her head. Then she dialled Brendan’s number and took a seat on the rough brick of the Vegas’ backyard patio. Out here, she didn’t feel so trapped.
Brendan picked up. ‘Ivy?’ He sounded concerned, and she imagined his dark eyebrows puckered. ‘I thought you were supposed to be having lunch with your grandparents today.’
‘I was.’ Ivy rested her chin on her knees. ‘I mean, I did.’
‘That was quick.’
‘Brendan, it was a disaster! They want me to go to finishing school in Transylvania, some place called Wallachia Academy. It’s supposed to be the most A-positive place on earth, but I already can’t stand it. I’d have to leave you and Olivia. Plus, they won’t let me tell Olivia and I actually yelled at my grandparents. Can you believe it?’ Ivy was glad Brendan wasn’t here in person. She felt like she might burst into tears at any moment, and she didn’t want him to see her looking like a gothic clown when her eyeliner started to run.
There was silence on the other end of the phone, and then he said, ‘I’m sure your family are doing what they think is right.’ His voice was gentle. ‘Although . . .’ Ivy heard him take a deep sigh, ‘I don’t want you to go to some school across an entire ocean either.’
‘I know! I’d rather go to the school dance than leave my home behind.’ She laughed at how silly that idea was. Me! In a frilly dress at a school dance! The line went silent. Ivy waited. ‘Hello? Brendan, are you still there?’ She held the receiver away from her ear, quickly checking the screen. ‘Brendan?’
‘I’m here.’ Brendan sounded like he had swallowed soda the wrong way. ‘I think the school dance might be fun if we went together. You know?’
Ivy wasn’t sure what to say. Fun? Was Brendan kidding with her? ‘Yeah, right!’ she said, laughing. Then Ivy heard the door behind her open. She turned to see her dad stepping outside. ‘Hey, Brendan? My dad’s here. I’ve got to run.’ She ended the call and prepared herself for a nice long father–daughter lecture. How absolutely fatal, she thought.
Charles sat down next to Ivy. He was still wearing his velvet smoking jacket, and the expression on his face was grim. Ivy was seriously considering digging her own grave.
‘Your grandparents only want to do the right thing.’ Her father’s voice was immediately soothing. ‘You don’t have to make a decision yet. Why don’t you sleep on it?’
Ivy swallowed hard. Maybe she had overreacted . . . just a bit. The two of them sat in silence for several moments.
‘I guess I should apologise to them,’ she said eventually.
Her dad smiled and put an arm around her shoulders. ‘They’re old and they’ve travelled a long way,’ he reminded her. ‘We need to make allowances if they’re a bit . . . to the point. It’s only because they care.’
The two of them got to their feet and made their way back inside.
The Count and Countess were sitting stiffly on the edge of the couch. Ivy could barely meet their glance, she was so mortified.