05 Take Two - My Sister the Vampire

by Sienna Mercer

  Sienna Mercer

  MY SISTER THE VAMPIRE

  TAKE TWO

  Copyright

  EGMONT

  We bring stories to life

  My Sister the Vampire: Take Two first published in Great Britain 2011

  by Egmont UK Limited

  239 Kensington High Street

  London W8 6SA

  Copyright © Working Partners Ltd 2011

  Created by Working Partners Limited, London WC1X 9HH

  ISBN 978 1 4052 5697 1

  www.egmont.co.uk

  A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  First e-book edition 2011

  ISBN 978 1 7803 10060

  With special thanks to Sara O’Connor

  For Neil. This time every page is yours.

  Ivy thought of Jackson’s peachy complexion – if he was human and put on that spray tan, he’d look like an orange. But he looked completely normal. Completely human. Which meant that without fake tan his skin must be really, really pale. Could Jackson be . . . ‘A vampire,’ Ivy whispered.

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter One

  Ivy Vega was trapped inside her worst nightmare.

  ‘Welcome to Mister Smoothie. I’ll be your elixir mixer.’ The girl’s smile was almost as big as the one on the store’s cartoon logo. ‘What can I fix for you lovely people today?’

  Too. Much. Perky. Ivy wanted to shade her eyes.

  ‘I . . . well . . . um . . .’ Ivy’s dad stared at the huge pink menu behind the girl’s head.

  ‘We just need a minute.’ Ivy pulled him to one side to let a little girl in plaits and her mom go in front of them.

  ‘I design skyscrapers,’ he muttered, running his hand through his usually neat black hair. ‘I should be able to order a smoothie like a regular person.’

  ‘You’re about two hundred years away from regular, Dad,’ Ivy whispered, glancing over her shoulder to make sure no one behind them could overhear.

  Just this morning, Mr Vega had announced that he wanted to take his two daughters out. Ivy had tried to go to an establishment more suited to his tastes, but he’d insisted that he should get to know Olivia in the world she was used to – which meant the bunniest place in town.

  ‘It says here to pick a size and a special flavour.’ Ivy handed him a menu. ‘Or you can make your own from the list.’

  He opened the complicated menu, turning it over to look at all the choices. ‘Do apples and carrots really go together?’

  ‘I’ve had that once before.’ Ivy nodded, her plastic bat earrings bouncing. ‘It’s an odd combination, but it works.’

  He smiled. ‘Just like my beautiful twin daughters.’

  Ivy looked across the restaurant to where her sister, Olivia Abbott, was waiting in the farthest booth, watching them. She knew this wasn’t one of the vampire-friendly restaurants in town and she looked worried for them. Perhaps Olivia should be up here ordering, Ivy thought. In her pink knit sweater and designer jeans, she fitted in here much more than Ivy and her dad, both in black from head to toe.

  ‘Are you ready?’ the server girl asked pointedly. It looked like her happiness was as fake as the tropical flowers hanging from the ceiling.

  ‘How about I go first?’ Ivy volunteered. She scanned the list of fruity concoctions. Crushed Blushed was too perky for her and Beauty-Boosting Blueberry was too silly. Ivy needed something with a little bite. Ah ha! She caught the eye of the server and asked, ‘Could I please have a Red Lipsmacker?’

  ‘Is that a Mini-Mummy, Midi-Dum-Di-Dum or Mega-Mighty?’

  Ivy struggled not to roll her eyes. ‘Small, please. Oh – and no ice.’

  The girl grabbed a cup, scribbled on it and shouted, ‘One Mini-Mum Smacker – no crunch.’

  Ivy glanced at her dad and saw him opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish. The mini/midi/mega options were clearly too much for him to process. ‘Let’s get this over with,’ he muttered. He took a deep breath and slapped the menu down on the counter. ‘I’m going to have a Midi-Dum-Di-Dum Twist and Shout. Please. And for my daughter –’

  ‘A Twist and Shout?’ the serving girl interrupted. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes, I am.’ Mr Vega nodded.

  Ivy had a feeling something bad was about to happen.

  ‘You don’t want more time to make up your mind?’ She pressed the menu back into his hand.

  ‘No . . . no,’ Mr Vega was insistent, firmly handing the menu back. ‘That’s the smoothie I’ve chosen and that’s the smoothie I want. A Twist and Shout for me.’

  What’s wrong with a Twist and Shout? Ivy wondered. Is it really difficult to make? The menu just said crushed ice with an orange and cranberry swirl; sounded simple enough.

  The girl sighed. ‘All right.’ Then she took a deep breath and called out, ‘Hey, Mister Smoothie!’

  Mr Vega’s face dropped as the entire store shouted back, ‘Hey, what?’

  Ivy shot a panicked look at her sister, who was cringing.

  The girl called, ‘I’ve got a little twist!’ Understanding the routine, all the regular customers replied, ‘I’ve got a little SHOUT!’ Then someone hit the jukebox and the five teenage employees, including the girl who had served them, jumped up on the counter, twisting to the song as it blasted out of every speaker. An old couple in the corner stood up and started wiggling their hips, too.

  Mr Vega looked utterly mortified, his face pale . . . r than usual. He gripped the counter as though to stop himself from fleeing the scene. Ivy would have been right behind him.

  I will never set foot in here again, Ivy vowed as everyone danced around her.

  The serving girl even grabbed her dad’s hands to get him to dance, so he bobbed his knees a couple of times and tried to smile. Ivy had seen more convincing smiles on corpses.

  My worst nightmare just got worse, Ivy thought. Now Dad’s dancing.

  After an eternity, the Midi-Dum-Di-Dum Twist and Shout was plonked down on the counter.

  ‘Is there anything else?’ the serving girl asked, slightly breathless.

  ‘Um,’ Mr Vega clutched the crumpled menu. ‘If I say “Pinkaholic” will there be any more . . . er . . . performances?’

  ‘No, sir,’ the girl said, ‘the Pinkaholic has nothing special except the taste. Should I go ahead and get you that?’

  ‘Yes, please,’ Mr Vega said, sighing with relief.

  The girl leaned forward and whispered to him, ‘You see the little musical notes on the menu? You might want to sidestep those smoothies when you come back next time.’

  ‘Next time?’ asked Ivy’s dad with alarm. ‘Yes . . . next time.’

  When the smoothie arrived, her dad paid, picked up the bright pink and yellow cups and stepped tight-lipped over to the table where Olivia was waiting. Ivy could see his hands shaking.

  ‘I should have warned you,’ Olivia said, trying to keep the smile off her face as her dad placed her drink down on the bright orange table. ‘There are a few smoothies to avoid if you aren’t into spontaneous group singing.’

/>   ‘Hmm,’ Mr Vega replied, sliding into the booth across from the twins. ‘I’m all for trying new things, but spontaneous group singing isn’t one of them.’

  ‘Thank the darkness,’ Ivy breathed.

  Olivia was really happy her biological dad was going out of his way to get to know her. He already knew a lot about Ivy – she lived with him, after all. It was only a couple of weeks ago, just before Christmas, when Olivia found out he was her and Ivy’s real dad.

  She took a big slurp of her smoothie and then started coughing and spluttering. She tried to compose herself but Mr Vega had already noticed.

  His face fell. ‘Is that not . . . did I get it wrong?’

  Should I tell him? Olivia wondered. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but at the same time, she didn’t want to have to force down the whole mushy, sticky drink. ‘I’m not a big fan of bananas,’ Olivia confessed.

  Mr Vega groaned. ‘I apologise, Olivia. How about we switch?’

  Olivia nodded, gratefully. The Twist and Shout was one of her favourites – especially because of the dancing.

  ‘This simply demonstrates my point,’ Mr Vega went on, ‘that I must spend more time getting to know you. Which I intend to do as soon as I get back.’

  Ivy looked up from her drink. ‘Get back from where?’

  ‘Another reason I wanted to see you both together is to say that, since we are no longer moving to Europe –’

  ‘Woohoo!’ Ivy and Olivia said in unison. Just last week, the twins had been forced to try every trick in the book to avert disaster and convince Mr Vega not to leave Franklin Grove.

  ‘There are some urgent things I must take care of,’ he continued. ‘I have already spoken with your mother, Olivia.’ He was talking about Mrs Abbott, her adopted mom. Neither of the girls could remember their biological mother. ‘She has agreed to let Ivy stay with you for the next few nights.’

  Olivia looked at her twin. ‘Sleepover!’ she squealed, causing the couple in the next booth to stare at them.

  Ivy grinned. The smoothie had turned her teeth red. ‘I’ve been wanting to repaint my nails.’ Ivy held up her hand to reveal chipped silver nail polish. ‘But what’s the trip, Dad?’

  Mr Vega waved a hand dismissively, revealing his cuff link shaped like a miniature coffin. ‘It is just some business I must attend to without delay.’

  ‘Where are you going?’ Olivia persisted. We’ve barely had one smoothie together and already he’s leaving! she thought.

  ‘Uh, Dallas has a lot of new construction going on,’ Mr Vega said. ‘Anyway, I won’t be gone more than a couple of days and I will be back before school starts. Now, let’s talk about something more interesting.’

  ‘Like the presents you’re going to bring back for us?’ Ivy said.

  ‘Like what that Lipsmacker tastes like,’ Mr Vega said to Ivy, making a grab for her cup. ‘Let’s switch.’

  They swapped around their smoothies and slurped. Olivia had a hundred questions she wanted to ask her bio-dad about his family and where she and Ivy came from – but for now she was just happy that they were together without any more secrets.

  They traded smoothies again so that Ivy could try the Twist and Shout but then got confused about which smoothie was which.

  ‘At least I’d never get the two of you mixed up,’ Mr Vega said.

  Olivia kept a straight face and didn’t look at her sister. So maybe there’s one tiny secret he doesn’t know, Olivia thought. She and Ivy had switched lots of times to fool Mr Vega and everyone else, too. She felt Ivy squeeze her hand under the table.

  Olivia noticed the mini-jukebox sitting on the table next to the box of napkins. ‘Ooh, let’s pick a song!’

  Mr Vega paled. ‘As long as there is no audience participation.’

  She giggled. ‘We’ll be careful.’ She turned the old-fashioned knob to flip through the list of songs that came up on a screen. ‘How about “The Right One”?’ Olivia stopped on the theme tune from the new rom com she’d dragged Ivy to see two days ago.

  ‘Ugh, I’m so sick of that song,’ Ivy said. ‘And it’s only your favourite movie because you have a crush on Jackson Caulfield.’

  ‘I do not!’ Olivia tried to stop herself blushing. ‘OK, maybe I do – but we don’t have to talk about that now.’ She didn’t want her bio-dad to think she was boy-crazy. She flicked through the song list in an attempt to change the subject.

  ‘Wait!’ Mr Vega cried out, making her jump. ‘You passed the perfect song.’ He took over the knob and twisted until it came back to ‘Double Trouble'.

  ‘I love that one!’ Olivia hummed the tune and tapped her feet.

  As the catchy song played out over the speakers, he pulled his straw in and out of the smoothie cup, making a little squeaking noise. ‘Now that I know your favourite movie,’ he said thoughtfully, ‘how about your favourite book?’

  Olivia felt silly admitting it in front of her vampire family. ‘I really love the Count Vira vampire books.’

  Mr Vega gave a dashing smile. ‘You might be surprised to learn that I have a first-edition signed copy of Love in the Black of Night in my library.’

  Ivy’s jaw dropped and Olivia squealed.

  ‘Oh my goodness, you have to show it to me!’ That was the first Count Vira book she had ever read.

  ‘I promise I will.’ Mr Vega kept squeaking his straw in between sips. ‘How about your favourite subject in school?’

  ‘I love art class,’ Olivia said.

  ‘Art? Is that so?’ he replied. ‘You know I –’

  Ivy’s phone blasted out the first riffs of the Phantom of the Opera musical, interrupting them.

  ‘Sorry,’ Ivy mouthed as she answered the call. ‘Hey . . . Yeah . . . OK . . .’ From her smile, Olivia could tell Ivy was talking to her boyfriend, Brendan. Whenever she was around him, Ivy’s usual goth grouch turned into adorable goth glee.

  While Ivy chatted, Olivia took a moment to study Mr Vega’s face. With his strong jaw and dark eyebrows, he looked like he belonged on the cover of Count Vira’s books.

  ‘You know, Olivia, I’m an art enthusiast,’ Mr Vega said. ‘I would dearly love to see some of your work.’

  Olivia beamed. ‘OK!’

  Even though her bio-dad’s style was on the opposite end of the colour spectrum, he had excellent taste. He was even setting up a new exhibit at the Franklin Grove museum.

  ‘Brendan wants to have lunch at the Meat & Greet later,’ Ivy explained, putting her phone in her bag.

  ‘Just you two?’ Olivia asked.

  ‘Everybody. He’s already texted Sophia and Camilla.’

  ‘What a thoughtful young man,’ Mr Vega said. ‘Do you have a sweetheart, Olivia?’

  For the past few months, what with settling into her new home and discovering her new family in Franklin Grove, Olivia hadn’t had a moment to think about romance.

  ‘Nope,’ Olivia said. ‘I never have had. But seeing Brendan and Ivy together makes me wish I did.’

  Ivy smiled her shy little smile. Olivia knew her sister had crushed on Brendan for years but hadn’t spoken a word to him until Olivia accidentally broke the ice during a twin switch.

  Mr Vega stopped squeaking the straw. ‘Do you mean . . . Do you want someone like Brendan?’

  ‘Oh, no.’ Olivia could see what he was getting at. He fell in love with her human mother and that made his life totally complicated. ‘I’m looking for a perfectly normal boy – without any, erm, unusual eating habits.’

  Mr Vega started squeaking the straw again. ‘I see. Well, I am certain that the perfect someone for you would have to be a very special kind of normal.’

  ‘I second that,’ Ivy said, bumping her shoulder into Olivia’s.

  I’m so lucky to have a new dad and new sister, thought Olivia.

  ‘Now, I spotted some chocolate-chip cookies on the menu,’ Mr Vega said, slurping the last bit of his drink noisily. ‘I’ll ask the waitress to bring three over.’ He raised a hand in the air. />
  ‘There aren’t any waitresses,’ Olivia said. ‘You’ll have to go back up to the counter.’

  ‘Oh.’ Mr Vega looked like he would rather gulp down a garlic smoothie. But he eased himself out of the booth and went to stand back in line.

  Ivy and Olivia grinned at each other.

  ‘He must really want to spend time with me to risk another sing along,’ Olivia commented.

  ‘No kidding,’ Ivy agreed, as she watched Mr Vega chatting to the server. ‘He’s the best real dad we could have.’

  An hour later, the twins were walking to the Meat & Greet with their friends. It was cold so Olivia had wrapped herself up in her matching pink scarf and gloves set.

  ‘How was your morning?’ Camilla Edmunson asked.

  ‘Let’s just say it was pretty . . . musical,’ Olivia answered, smiling at the memory of Mr Vega dancing.

  ‘My head almost imploded when Olivia wanted to put on “The Right One”,’ Ivy said to Brendan, sticking out her tongue and pretending to strangle herself.

  ‘I love that song!’ Camilla declared at the same time as Sophia Hewitt said, ‘Torture!’

  Olivia was on one side of Ivy and Brendan, and Camilla was on the other. They started singing ‘The Right One’ as loud as they could, forming a surround sound of chipper elevator music.

  ‘Nooo,’ Ivy screeched, covering her ears with her woolly black mittens. ‘I’m melting!’

  Olivia wasn’t about to stop now. She gave Camilla a wink and the two of them started dancing around Ivy and Brendan, still singing the cheesy lyrics: ‘You’re the right one for me, can’t you seeeeee?’

  Sophia removed the lens cap from her camera and snapped a few shots. ‘Ivy, you look like Frosty the Snowman at an ice-carving contest.’

  Ivy was wearing an ankle-length mauve jacket with big black buttons down the front and had her eyes shut trying to block out the dancing.

  Everyone laughed.

  ‘It’s safe to come out now, Ivy,’ Brendan teased. ‘The happy people have stopped singing.’

  Everyone laughed harder.