‘What?’ asked Ivy, watching the girl in the apron pour bright-red slush from a pitcher into a tall cup.
‘Taking the whole family to Aunt Rebecca’s farm! Then we’d really have everyone together.’
The cheerful waitress arranged five frosty glasses on a tray, which Ivy slid from the counter, being careful not to slosh the smoothies. ‘And I thought I was the smart one,’ said Ivy.
Olivia grabbed straws, while Ivy carried the smoothies back and handed them out to her family before slipping into the booth opposite her grandparents. Thank goodness we managed to dodge the singing, Ivy thought.
‘It’s . . . purple,’ said the Countess, making whirlpools with her straw. Olivia giggled.
Ivy was about to tell her grandmother that the smoothie was supposed to be that colour, when a horrifying sound blasted into her super-vampire ears. Someone was ordering a Rock and Roller, and the song that went with it was at least ten times worse than the Twist and Shout.
Ivy did a quick calculation in her head. Could she get her family out of here in two seconds flat? She scanned the room. No way. The Lazars and Vegas would have to grit their vampire teeth and bear it. Here went nothing . . .
The waitresses and cashiers boogied out, snapping their fingers and getting the other patrons going.
‘Rockin’ around the shop tonight . . . Drinkin’ cold smoothies . . . A chilly delight . . .’
The smoothie shop erupted into song, making Ivy wish she could crawl back into her coffin. No such luck. Reluctantly, she swivelled to check on the Count and Countess, who were bound to be seriously offended. As far as she knew, her grandparents were still into music of the organ variety.
‘Oh my darkness!’ Ivy’s mouth dropped. There were her grandparents, bopping away to the Rock and Roller song with Olivia. The Countess was even clapping.
‘Bravo!’ shouted the Count.
Ivy’s father leaned closer. ‘I guess you never know what will happen on a trip to Mister Smoothie.’
That’s for sure, thought Ivy. The Count and Countess actually seemed disappointed when the song finished.
‘So tell me,’ said Ivy’s grandmother, nestling back into the booth. ‘How is school at Franklin Grove? What do they teach you there?’
Ivy thought this was an odd question, because Franklin Grove taught the same thing as any other school. ‘You know, the usual stuff. We have Social Studies, Science, Algebra, Media Studies . . .’
Ivy’s grandfather nodded along, as if her list of courses was fascinating. ‘Interesting, interesting. Same for you, Olivia?’
‘Yes, and this year I’m organising the school dance.’ Olivia propped her cable-knit-clad elbows on the table. ‘I’ve a mountain of work. We only found out about it yesterday and now I’m chairing the whole thing.’
Grandma’s eyes brightened. ‘You have great experience after attending the Transylvanian ball.’ She winked, taking a sip from her purple concoction.
Several months before, Olivia and Ivy had travelled far across the Atlantic to meet their long-lost-family in Transylvania. The highlight of the trip had been an elegant vampire ball that even Transylvanian royalty had attended.
Olivia slurped her smoothie. ‘I don’t think it will be as fancy as that.’ Ivy remembered how nervous Olivia had been about making her big debut into vampire society. She’d even worried about clashing with the crimson limousine décor!
Olivia’s chirpy ringtone sounded from her purse. She fished it out, checked the screen and blushed. ‘Sorry, but do you mind if I take this? It’s Jackson.’
Ivy smiled. Olivia looked as if she had been poked with Cupid’s arrow. How could anyone refuse that lovesick face?
The Countess waved Olivia on with ring-adorned hands, eyes crinkling at the corners.
‘Thanks!’ Olivia scooted out of the booth and scurried away from the group, phone pressed to her ear. ‘Hiiiii . . .’
Ivy hoped she never sounded that mushy with Brendan. She took another gulp of her smoothie.
‘Isn’t it sweet,’ said the Count, watching Olivia. ‘It’s so nice to see a young girl who’s found her destiny. Olivia wanted to be an actress and that’s what she’s become.’
Ivy frowned. Since when had the Count cared about Hollywood dreams? She couldn’t remember him ever asking Olivia about her acting career or her romance with Jackson.
Grandma shifted in her seat. ‘That’s right!’ she said brightly. ‘Finding your right path in life is so important.’ There seemed to be something forced about her smile as she watched Ivy closely.
Ivy looked from her grandma to her grandfather, and then across to her dad. He looked as if he’d swallowed a clove of garlic.
‘What’s going on?’ Ivy asked. ‘You guys look like you’ve been staked!’
The Count played with the ruffles of his sleeves, looking thoroughly uncomfortable. ‘Now that we’re alone,’ he said, nodding towards Olivia, who was still chattering on the phone with Jackson, ‘we’d like to have a quiet word with you, Ivy.’
‘With me?’ Ivy got a crawly feeling up the back of her neck. What could they need to tell her that Olivia wasn’t meant to hear?
‘There are some things you must know about being a growing vampire,’ her grandfather continued. ‘You see, when high-born vampires, like you, reach a certain age, their powers can become a bit – well – hard to manage. It can be time to learn to control your vampire skills. Become acquainted with your . . .’ he gave a hard gulp, ‘destiny.’
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!