Olivia was packing. Six casual outfits for the trip to Transylvania lay spread out on her four-poster bed, with her more formal outfits hanging from the antique full-length mirror in the corner.
‘Is that enough?’ she asked herself. ‘Or one more skirt?’
Something small and white flew through her bedroom door and landed on her baby-blue pea coat. Olivia picked up the papery globe. It was a clove of garlic.
Mrs Abbott poked her head through the doorway with a silly grin on her face. ‘You’ll need that to fight off all the vampires in Transylvania,’ she said.
Olivia forced herself to smile. ‘Ha ha!’ she replied weakly. Her adoptive mom and dad had no idea about her biological family’s unusual eating habits and preference for sleeping in coffins. That was the First Law of the Night: no one could find out vampires really existed. Olivia was a rare human exception, and she was certain her mother wouldn’t let her get within a mile of Transylvania if she knew the truth.
‘Can I come in, honey?’ Mrs Abbott asked.
‘Sure,’ Olivia said, tossing back the clove of garlic and sorting through her accessories. ‘If you promise not to comment on the state of my room.’
‘I just wanted to say again that we’re so glad you’ve found your biological family.’ Olivia heard her mom’s voice crack. She glanced up and noticed that her mom had tears in her eyes. ‘Your dad and I are completely supportive of this trip you’re taking.’
Olivia gave her mom a big hug. ‘You and Dad are my parents, and Grammy and Pops are the best grandparents a girl could have.’ She didn’t want anyone in her family thinking she was trying to replace them. She’d already figured out how to avoid the confusion of having two dads. Her dad, the one who’d raised her from a baby was ‘Dad’, while her biological dad was ‘Bio-dad’. ‘I just want to find out more about where I came from.’
‘I know, sweetie.’ Olivia’s mom sat on the bed. ‘Now, close your eyes.’
‘Um, OK.’ She closed her eyes and a moment later felt cool metal on her palm.
Olivia squinted from behind her eyelashes and squealed. It was a slim-line pink cell phone. Super pink.
‘You’re the best, Mom.’ Olivia hugged her again.
When they finally broke apart, Mrs Abbott said, ‘We bought international texting, so you can text us anytime you want to.’
‘I will every night,’ Olivia promised.
There was the sudden ring of an incoming call. Olivia jumped with fright and the mobile phone flew up into the air. She only just managed to catch it before it hit the side of her vanity table.
Cheerleading agility 1, over-active imagination 0, Olivia thought.
Olivia looked down at her shiny new present, amazed that anyone could have the new number already. But it was her bedroom phone that was ringing.
‘Hello?’ Olivia said, as her mom gave a little wave and left her to her privacy.
‘T-minus twelve hours,’ Ivy said.
‘I know,’ Olivia replied. ‘I’m almost done packing. How’s your, um, backside?’
After Olivia heard Ivy squealing on the phone at the mall, Ivy had called back. They’d arranged to meet up and as they’d walked to the Meat and Greet she’d explained the whole story about her undercover espionage – and the unfortunate incident with the jewellery rack. Olivia had dropped the newly converted Valentine’s Day lovebirds at the diner while she’d come straight home for her packing session.
‘Still sore,’ Ivy confessed. ‘I just hope it doesn’t have little heart shapes imprinted on it forever.’
Olivia laughed. ‘So, are you packed?’ she asked.
‘I’m, um, making progress,’ Ivy said.
‘You mean, you’ve finally dragged your suitcase down from the closet and are calling me to drag your feet even more?’ Olivia guessed.
‘You know me too well,’ Ivy admitted. ‘But there is method in my madness. I just wanted to confess that you were right.’
Olivia pretended to gasp. ‘Me? Right?’
‘Ha ha,’ Ivy said. ‘You were right in saying that Valentine’s Day isn’t that bad and getting surprise presents is very nice.’
Olivia felt her stomach twist. ‘Getting surprise presents is nice,’ she replied quietly. Jackson hasn’t even given me a card.
‘Uh oh,’ Ivy said. ‘I can hear you not-smiling.’
Olivia stroked her soft silver cashmere-mix sweater and sighed.
‘I’m just worried about being homesick when we get to Transylvania,’ Olivia said, deciding that bringing up Jackson would only take away from Ivy’s happy Brendan feelings.
‘Don’t you worry,’ Ivy said. ‘We are bound to have an amazing time, and everyone is going to make us feel right at home.’
‘I’m sure you’ll be right at home,’ Olivia replied, imagining shadowy castles, fog and mist, vampires that might be old enough to remember what it was like to actually eat humans . . . gulp.
‘This is your family too, Olivia,’ Ivy insisted. ‘They are going to love us both equally. Just you wait. Now, the black roll-neck sweater or the skull-design hooded top? Which do you think?’
Olivia laughed. ‘You’ll look perfect in either,’ she told her sister. As she put the phone down and put the last few items in her suitcase, she felt a jangle of nerves in her stomach.
Tomorrow, she would be in Transylvania.
Chapter Three
Ivy stepped into the Arrivals lounge, bright and bustling with people chattering in Romanian. She felt as fresh as a daisy – or as a vampire who’d slept well in their coffin.
Poor Olivia, though, seemed frazzled beyond recognition. Her eyes were the same colour pink as her sweater and her normally healthy-looking skin looked almost as white as a vampire’s. She’d barely slept a wink.
‘I’ll take care of your passports, girls,’ said Mr Vega from behind her, wheeling his suitcase.
‘Oh my darkness, I can’t believe we’re finally here,’ Ivy said, passing hers over.
‘How long until we get to the house?’ Olivia mumbled, her eyes drooping. She stumbled and her bag’s wheels clattered on the shiny tile floor.
‘You can sleep in the car, my dear,’ Mr Vega replied, putting his arm around Olivia’s shoulder and giving her a squeeze.