‘Girls!’ A smile threatened to crease the corners of Lillian’s mouth. ‘You need to quit teasing your dad.’
Olivia slapped her hand over her mouth, her blue eyes nearly bugging out of her head. ‘Sorry,’ she mumbled into her palm. ‘Just kidding.’
Charles cleared his throat, recovering his typical suave composure. ‘And I’ll be getting my own back.’
Say what? Ivy didn’t have a clue what her father meant.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Olivia’s eyebrows pinched together.
‘Oh, nothing.’ Charles swished his hand through the air.
‘Come on, Dad,’ Ivy pressed. ‘What do you mean?’
Charles smiled at his daughters. ‘A father has to have a few secrets of his own, does he not?’
Ivy wished the answer was ‘not’.
‘Pass the Buttercup Yellow, please.’
Ivy tossed a bottle of nail polish to Olivia, who had just finished coating the nails on Ivy’s right hand in a deep shade of Vampy Violet. Ivy blew on her fingernails. She had a bad habit of smudging them before they dried.
‘So, what should we do for the holiday?’ asked Ivy between puffs. ‘Now that I won’t be catching up on the latest episodes of Shadowtown, that is.’
‘Good question.’ Olivia brushed a layer of the bright yellow polish on to her toenails. ‘I’m guessing you don’t want to join Charlotte in her quest for the perfect tan?’
Ivy wrinkled her nose, studying the sheer white of her skin. ‘I’m thinking no.’
‘Right,’ agreed Olivia.
‘Maybe we could visit Aunt Rebecca on the farm, then?’
‘Now that idea, I love.’
Aunt Rebecca was the only family they had on their mom’s side – their mom’s twin.
Thinking about her mom always made Ivy sad. She had been a non-vampire and their dad, with his Transylvanian vampire heritage, had risked everything to marry her. But she’d died during childbirth and Mr Vega had cut off all contact with the human side of the family, thinking it would be for the best. Ivy and Olivia had only recently found out about their aunt, but they’d already visited her several times. The outdoors didn’t even make Ivy want to break out in hives any more. Plus, the horses had stopped running away every time she was around. Ivy was actually starting to love the place.
Olivia fanned her toes. ‘I still don’t know why it was so important for me to stay over tonight. Do you think it was because of the dinner with Lillian?’
‘I don’t think so. Dad probably would have preferred us not to be around for that.’ Ivy pulled open the lid of her coffin and climbed inside. It was a top-of-the-line Interna 3 and she loved the feel of the soft red velvet beneath her toes. Olivia pulled back her pink comforter and climbed into bed. She rested her head on the pillows with the pink lace trim and reached to adjust the ribbon that was tied in a big bow on the headboard. Her bed couldn’t have been more different to Ivy’s coffin.
‘Then why tonight, of all nights?’
Ivy stretched her legs and snuggled into the cushioned velour. ‘Maybe we’ll find out in the morning.’ If I can sleep, Ivy added in her head. What on earth is my dad planning?
Olivia yawned. Her ponytail was lopped sideways on top of her head and the sheets were tangled in a heap at her feet. There had been a noise at the door. Had she heard a knock?
Knock, knock!
There it was again. She peeked over the edge of her bed. Ivy’s coffin was still sealed shut. Their bedroom door creaked open and Olivia heard the shuffle of feet as the edge of a brass tray came into view. A brass tray? The only serving options Olivia had seen at the Vegas’ house were those cushioned trays used for TV dinners. She quickly tried to flatten her hair into something presentable.
The figure of a hulking man dressed in a full morning suit appeared in the open doorway. It’s Horatio! Olivia thought, stunned. Horatio was her grandparents’ butler. The Lazars were Transylvanian nobility. But what was he doing in Franklin Grove?
Olivia blinked. There was only one explanation. She had to be dreaming. Olivia pulled the sheets up to her chin and burrowed back beneath the covers.
A hand tapped Olivia’s shoulder and her eyes snapped open. ‘Madam?’
‘Oh my goodness!’ she shrieked.