“Try telling Bethany that,” said Brendan. “She’s been begging me for weeks to take her to the mall so she can sit on the HB’s back and tell it what she wants for Christmas.”
“That is so cute!” cried Olivia. “I want to see the HB. It’ll be my first vampire Christmas.”
Ivy shushed her. “Can you lower your voice, or do you want us all to get staked?” she hissed. “And we’re not going to the HB,” she added. “We’re too old.”
Olivia started to protest, but Ivy said, “Olivia, we have much more important things to focus on right now. Like going to my house after school to prepare the romantic meal that’s going to save my life!”
“Don’t you worry about tonight,” Olivia said confidently. “Alice is so totally perfect. It’ll be love at first bite.”
Brendan chuckled, but Ivy still looked skeptical.
“I got the two of you together, didn’t I?” Olivia pointed out.
Brendan and Ivy looked at each other. “The bunny has a point,” he said.
Ivy stood at the kitchen counter, frantically flipping through her father’s Taste of the Night cookbook as Olivia peered over her shoulder. They had only a few hours before Alice arrived.
“How about ‘Tortellini with Red Sauce’?” Olivia suggested. “That sounds good.”
Ivy scanned the recipe and shook her head. “We don’t have goose blood.”
“Gross,” said Olivia under her breath.
Ivy spotted a recipe for rare beef lasagna and asked Olivia to look in the pantry for lasagna noodles.
“Ew!” Olivia cried after a moment. “There’s a box of powdered blood Jell-O in here!”
“That’s my dad’s favorite,” Ivy said. She spun around to look at her sister. “Do you think it’s fancy enough for dessert?”
“I know how to make a sweet cream topping from scratch,” Olivia offered. She came over and plopped a box of lasagna noodles on the counter.
“Perfect,” said Ivy. “Now all we need is an appetizer.”
“How about a soup?”
As Ivy flipped to the front of the cookbook, she remembered their conversation at the Meat & Greet the previous day. “Killer idea,” she said with a grin. “After all, we already have salt and pepper.”
An hour later, Ivy had just put the lasagna in the oven when she heard the front door open.
“Ivy,” her father called, “I’m home!”
“In the kitchen!” Ivy called back.
When he saw them, Mr. Vega dropped his briefcase with a thud. I can’t believe he’s still so shocked by the sight of Olivia, thought Ivy.
“What have you girls done to my kitchen?” he gasped.
“Hi, Mr. Vega,” Olivia said, awkwardly wiping her hands on her apron, leaving bright red stains.
Ivy surveyed the situation. The counter was covered in blood paste and flour, and there were dirty bowls and spoons and pans on every available surface. As if on cue, the pot of water on the stove boiled over with a hissing burst of steam.
Ivy gulped. “Olivia and I are working on our art project,” she said.
“This is your art project?” her dad demanded.
Ivy nodded. “We have to make something for someone else, so we’re making dinner.”
“Well, then, I’d better leave you two artists to your work,” he said tentatively, slowly turning on his heels to leave the kitchen.