Читать книгу Stake Out! - Sienna Mercer - Страница 9

An hour later, the twins were sitting in front of the computer in Ivy’s bedroom, surrounded by posters of Ivy’s favourite metal band, The Pall Bearers, and beautiful art prints of Transylvanian castles and clouds of bats.

Even the comfort of her favourite decorations didn’t make Ivy feel any happier about the task Olivia had set her: emailing Holly to invite her to the baking party. On the way home from the park, Olivia had persuaded Ivy that the invite should go from the two of them together.

‘It’ll smooth things over,’ she’d said. ‘You’d really like her if you gave her a chance. Who knows – you might even bond over cupcakes. Maybe you’ll teach her to like red and black icing!’ Eventually Ivy had agreed.

Of course I did, Ivy thought, and shook her head ruefully. When have I ever managed to resist Olivia ? From the outside, Olivia might look like the softer, gentler twin, but she had a core of solid steel, especially when it came to making others happy.

‘I hope it goes well,’ Olivia said now, nervously biting her lower lip. Sunlight streamed into the room past the dark-red curtains, making her pink minidress and strappy sandals look even more out of place against the black-painted walls and goth decor of Ivy’s room.

‘As long as Brendan eats, I’ll be happy,’ Ivy said. That was the important thing about this baking party, she reminded herself, even if it did mean having to hang out with Holly again: it would be the perfect opportunity to feed Brendan up after his illness. He hadn’t eaten a thing at the park – not even his own macaroons! She sighed as she watched Olivia type the email message from both of them. ‘Did you notice how he –’

Her words were cut off by the sound of Olivia’s phone buzzing to life. Ivy couldn’t help seeing the name on the display as the phone vibrated beside the keyboard. Her gaze flew to her sister’s shocked expression.

Jackson’s calling !

‘I’ll just . . .’ Olivia picked up the phone, staring at it as if it were a wild animal that might attack her at any moment. The pop-song ringtone sounded a second time. ‘I’ll just . . .’ she said again, before hurrying out of the room and closing the door.

A moment later, Ivy heard her sister murmuring in the hallway. He’d better not hurt her again, Ivy thought fiercely. She liked Jackson, but it had taken Olivia ages to recover after his megastar lifestyle had driven them apart. Seeing her sister upset was pretty much the one thing Ivy could not bear.

Biting down on her worry, she distracted herself with Holly’s email:

Come if you want, but don’t feel you HAVE to . . .

Sigh. Of course she couldn’t really say that, no matter how much she wanted to. Instead, she deleted and started again, summoning some of Olivia’s cheerleader pep:

We’d love to see you !!!

Were three exclamation points too obviously fake? Ivy tapped one black-nailed finger on her desktop, trying to make up her mind.

Before she could make any changes, though, Olivia stepped back in the room, looking as if she’d seen a ghost.

‘That was Jackson,’ she said. ‘Did you know it was Jackson? You probably knew it was Jackson.’

‘Well –’ Ivy began.

Olivia didn’t wait to let her answer. ‘He was calling from a photo shoot, and he said it made him think of me.’ She perched on the edge of the chair beside Ivy, almost shivering with tension. ‘Do you think that means something? It probably doesn’t mean anything. But . . .’

Her words were tumbling over each other so quickly, Ivy gave up on trying to break in. Olivia might not have vampire super-strength, but right now she was talking with full vampire-style super-speed.

‘He said the shoot was themed around dreams coming true, and it made him wonder . . . didn’t my dreams come true when I went to Hollywood?’

Ivy winced, thinking of Olivia’s starring role in the movie Eternal Sunset. The only thing ‘eternal’ about the movie was the delays caused by Hollywood industry strikes. The movie had been put on hold indefinitely and Olivia’s dreams of building a career had stalled. She’d come back home and Jackson had moved on with his celebrity life. Now Olivia was stuck in limbo – or Franklin Grove, as they usually called it.

‘He sounded really wistful, like . . . like he was missing me.’ Olivia’s eyes glimmered, but she didn’t cry. Instead, she talked even faster. ‘I didn’t know what to say to that. So I thought, just to break the tension, I’d mention that book Holly was talking about at the picnic.’

‘Bare Throats at Sunset ?’ Ivy groaned. ‘Now there’s a romantic subject.’

‘That’s not the problem.’ Olivia shook her head. ‘He said he’d look out for it, but Ivy – the strangest thing of all was what he said just before hanging up.’ She finally stopped talking, her blue eyes wide and filled with panic.

Ivy frowned, feeling all her protective instincts rising. Hollywood mega-star or not, if Jackson Caulfield has said or done anything to hurt my sister . . .

‘He warned me to look out for vampires.’

‘What?!’ Ivy’s jaw dropped open.

‘I know!’ Olivia nodded. ‘I was so shocked, but I still managed to bluff. I said, “What vampires?” But then he asked me, hadn’t I seen his chirps?’

Ivy was already twisting around to her computer to load Jackson’s BirdChirp account. BirdChirp was an online social networking group that almost everyone had an account with, from A-list stars to people as normal as the twins. Well, if you can call us normal, Ivy thought, remembering all the scrapes they managed to get into.

‘What were his chirps?’

‘He said there’s this funny blog that’s become a bit of a viral hit . . .’ Olivia’s voice trailed off as Ivy clicked Jackson’s latest link and a new web page flashed up. Its header made Ivy immediately feel her skin prickle with sweat.

Vampires . . . in Franklin Grove !

‘Oh no,’ Olivia whispered. She slumped on to Ivy’s coffin-bed.

Ivy couldn’t speak. She scrolled down the web page, horror sending chills across her skin as she read.

‘If you think vampires only live in horror stories or Transylvania, think again. They’re here, they’re in the heart of America, and they’re walking the streets of Franklin Grove. Don’t believe us? Then get your teeth stuck into our weekly update on vampire sightings that will make your BLOOD run cold . . .’

Ivy stared at the screen, reading the same words over and over again. ‘Jackson’s been chirping about this?’

‘And millions of people follow him,’ Olivia said softly.

‘No wonder the blog’s gone viral.’ Ivy felt sick as she looked down at the hundreds of comments listed under the most recent entry. ‘At this point, it’s practically an Internet disease.’ Especially where vampires are concerned.

‘What are we going to do?’ Olivia said.

Ivy stiffened her shoulders. ‘We’ll take our own Internet action,’ she said. ‘We have to get on the Vorld Vide Veb and send a batsqueak.’ It was the VVV equivalent of a BirdChirp, and Ivy couldn’t think of any faster way to spread the message among vampires. ‘We have to alert our whole community about the danger.’

Olivia nodded, looking determined. ‘They’ll have to keep an eye out for this blogger, whoever it is.’

‘And be careful not to do anything too vamptastic.’ Ivy grimaced. ‘No more super-powered games of Frisbee, I guess.’

‘Not unless you can all control your strength.’ Olivia got up from the bed and stood beside Ivy. ‘But it’s going to be OK. Now that we know what’s going on, you guys can protect yourselves.’

‘That still doesn’t answer the real question . . .’ said Ivy, staring at the signature at the end of the blogger’s post.

‘Your brave reporter in the heart of Franklin Grove.’

Ivy shook her head. That could be anybody – literally. It was time to focus. ‘How does this blogger know the truth about vampires?’

‘And why does he or she want to expose them?’ Olivia asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Ivy said. ‘But I know one thing for sure.’ She folded her arms, glaring at the blog on her computer screen as if she could laser it with her eyes. ‘It’s lucky I came back when I did.’

No matter how hard she tried, Olivia couldn’t make her nerves stop being so . . . nervy. The wistfulness in Jackson’s tone as he’d talked about their perfect time in Hollywood, back when she’d really believed that they would be together forever . . . What with that and the vampire blog to deal with, she felt as jumpy as a real bunny.

There was only one thing for it: baking!

‘Come on!’ she said. She led Ivy downstairs into the kitchen and pulled out two aprons from a drawer. ‘I want to test out a few recipes. Nothing major. I just don’t want to mess up at the party tomorrow. Here –’ She pushed one of the aprons into Ivy’s hands. ‘This one’s for you.’

‘Wow . . .’ Ivy looked down at the apron she’d been given, made of black denim with studs running along the hem. ‘It’s perfect!’ Then she looked up and frowned at the apron Olivia was fastening around herself, which had a pink gingham ruffle around the hem and a sweetheart-shaped pocket. ‘Actually, so is yours.’

‘It really is, isn’t it?’ Olivia tied the straps with a bow. Neat and tidy and perfect. If only my life could be the same ! She brushed her hands together. ‘Now –’

‘Just a minute,’ Ivy said. ‘First, tell me how come we have two perfectly suited aprons just lying about in my kitchen, when we’ve never done any baking here before? How do I know you’re really my sister, and not some body-snatched doppelganger?’

Olivia felt her skin heat up in a blush as she gave a nervous giggle. She knelt down quickly to hide her face as she rummaged through the pots and pans. ‘Lillian’s mom came to stay for a weekend and brought her sewing machine. That’s where the aprons came from. No big deal. I mean, she is going to be our step-grandmother.’

‘Aha . . .’ Olivia could tell Ivy hadn’t missed the blush. ‘Talking of Lillian, it’s time for you to come clean about those cakes you made.’

Oops ! ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Olivia said. But she already had a guilty grin tugging at her lips.

‘Come on,’ Ivy said. ‘I don’t care what Holly claimed – you did not make those cupcakes on your own. I’ve seen you in the kitchen – you look more lost than me in an organic food store!’

Olivia grinned. ‘OK, I confess,’ she said, and stood up, holding a stack of measuring cups in her hands. ‘Lillian may have spent some time in the kitchen with me and Holly. But that’s why Holly was being so nice about my baking – she knows how bad I was to start with.’ Seeing Ivy’s face twitch, she rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, come on, Ivy! Give the girl a break. She was just trying to be kind.’

‘Whatever.’ Ivy gave an unconvincing smile. ‘You know, I’m still feeling pretty tired and frazzled after everything that happened at the Academy. I guess it must be making me grumpier than usual.’

Olivia opened her mouth to joke: Do you really think that’s possible ? But on seeing Ivy’s face, she stopped herself.

If anyone had the right to be cranky at the moment, it was Ivy.

By the time their bio-dad came home an hour later, both girls were covered in flour and licking out the bowls as they waited for their cakes to finish baking. When he stepped into the kitchen, Olivia winced, expecting him to sigh and complain about the mess. Charles Vega was nothing if not immaculate at all times.

‘Don’t worry . . .’ she began.

But he was too busy muttering to himself to hear her. ‘Butter icing or cream-cheese icing? Butter icing or cream-cheese icing ?’

‘Um . . .’ Olivia turned to Ivy, her eyebrows raised. Ivy had grown up with Charles. Maybe she understood the question.

Ivy only shrugged. ‘Dad? We were just making –’

‘Fantastic!’ Charles’s eyes lit up as he spotted the cupcakes in the oven. ‘You girls are thinking about the wedding catering already!’

This time it was Ivy’s turn to say, ‘Um . . .?’

‘Why, you’re almost as organised as I am.’ He beamed proudly at them both, not even seeming aware of the mess.

‘Dad, we need to talk to you,’ Ivy said, and from the look in her eye Olivia knew she was going to tell him about the blogger. ‘We have a big problem.’

‘Not any more.’ Charles shook his head wonderingly as he gazed at the baking cupcakes. ‘This is perfect. We can do tiers of fairy cakes instead of one huge cake. You girls are so forward-thinking!’ He dug a small notebook and tiny gold pen out of his jacket pocket and began scribbling. ‘Lillian will love it.’

‘Actually, Dad,’ Olivia said, ‘it’s really important that we –’

‘But what about the flower arrangements!’ said Charles. ‘How will they be affected by the fairy cakes?’

Shaking his head and mumbling to himself, he wandered out of the kitchen, leaving Olivia and Ivy to exchange a hopeless glance.

‘It’s nice that he’s so happy,’ Olivia said dubiously.

‘I guess,’ Ivy said. ‘I mean, I didn’t expect my dad to morph into Groomzilla!’

Both girls laughed, but Olivia caught a glimpse of sadness on Ivy’s face. ‘What’s wrong?’

Ivy grimaced. ‘I never thought I’d say this, but . . . I kind of miss “Old Dad”.’

Olivia thought of the slightly strict, wise man she’d met a year ago. ‘He was certainly different.’

‘He’s happier now,’ Ivy said. ‘And I’m happy for him, but . . . “Old Dad” would have listened to us about the blogger. He might even have given us some advice.’

Olivia sighed, understanding exactly what Ivy meant. They would have to deal with this problem on their own.

She jumped as the front door opened again.

‘There you both are!’ Lillian breezed in, stylish as always in a simple but elegant black dress. ‘I was just parking the car up in the garage, but I hoped I wouldn’t be too late to see both of you. Something smells good!’

‘We’re making cupcakes,’ Olivia said. ‘Just the way you showed me.’

‘And let’s hope you like them,’ Ivy added, ‘because Dad’s thinking cupcakes for the wedding.’

‘Oh, well . . .’ Lillian waved one graceful hand in the air and smiled as she pulled a book out of her sleek black bag. ‘Whatever everyone else wants. I don’t mind.’

As Lillian opened her book, the twins shared a meaningful glance. Olivia could see her own reaction mirrored in Ivy’s face. Were brides really meant to be this relaxed? She decided to test the waters with another question.

‘Have you organised your wedding dress yet?’

‘Mmm? What was that?’ Lillian looked up from her book, smiling ruefully. ‘Sorry, I know it’s terribly rude to read while we talk, but I just can’t help myself. This novel is amazing! Have you girls read it yet?’

As she held it out to show them, Olivia heard Ivy groan. Bare Throats at Sunset. Why was everyone suddenly reading that book? Luckily, Lillian was too busy gushing to have noticed Ivy’s reaction.

‘I’ve been telling all my friends back in California about it. You have to try it! But, um . . . sorry, what was it you asked?’

‘The wedding dress,’ Olivia prompted.

‘Oh, I’ll check out the sales in a couple of weeks’ time,’ said Lillian. ‘Who knows, I might find something.’

Her gaze slid back down to her paperback. Ivy pointed up towards her bedroom with her baking spoon and shot Olivia a questioning look. Olivia knew what she was asking. Lillian was certainly older and more experienced than they were – it would make sense to ask her for help in dealing with the blogger. But then again, did they really want to disrupt their future stepmom’s serenity right now?

Making a decision, Olivia shook her head firmly at Ivy. They already had Groomzilla on their hands – the last thing they needed was for the bride to stress out too.

‘Lillian? Is that you?’ Charles opened the back door and poked his head inside. ‘I need your opinion on something.’

Still holding Bare Throats at Sunset in her hands, Lillian wandered idly out into the garden to join him. Charles’s voice floated through the open door. ‘If we used Option Three for a marquee and Option Four for the seating arrangements –’ The door closed behind Lillian, shutting off the sound of his voice.

Watching through the window, Olivia saw that, even though Lillian cocked her head attentively as Charles continued to babble, she continued sneak-reading her book.

Then Ivy poked Olivia’s shoulder, distracting her from the show outside. ‘Why did you make me stop?’ she hissed. ‘Lillian would have listened to us. She’s not wedding-crazy like Dad.’

‘Not yet,’ Olivia said. ‘But weddings are so stressful, Lillian’s crazy moments have to be on the way soon – it’s kinder not to bother her with anything just yet.’

‘Well . . . actually, you might have a point.’ Ivy sighed and joined Olivia at the window.

‘I wish I could hear what they’re saying,’ Olivia said.

‘No,’ Ivy said. ‘You really don’t. Trust me.’ She tapped her ears, reminding Olivia that she could hear every word with her vampire super-senses. ‘It’s way too boring and grown-up to be worth eavesdropping on.’

‘Still.’ Olivia leaned companionably against her sister. ‘If I ever get married, I hope I’ll be as relaxed as Lillian and as organised as our bio-dad – the best of both worlds.’ She sighed wistfully, imagining a wedding dress with a huge, sparkly white train. She would feel like an absolute princess as she walked down the aisle to meet her prince – who would not, she told herself firmly, look anything like Jackson, no matter what images her mind conjured up. ‘What about you, Ivy? What kind of arrangements do you want when you get married?’

There was a moment of dead silence. Then Olivia turned to see her twin’s horrified expression, and they both burst out laughing at the same time.

‘Sorry,’ Olivia said, almost choking on her laughter. ‘That was a silly question, wasn’t it?’ The idea of grumpy goth Ivy in a big, billowing white dress . . .

‘It certainly was,’ Ivy said, wrapping one arm around Olivia’s shoulders. ‘Ivy plus meringue dresses equals the biggest, baddest mood. On the other hand . . .’ She licked her wooden baking spoon with an exaggerated flourish. ‘Ivy plus meringues? Now you’re talking!’

With perfect timing, the oven bell dinged. ‘They’re ready!’ Olivia said, and raced to the oven, pulling on pink oven mitts. Why should Olivia care about unavailable dream-boys or vampire-obsessed bloggers when she had a twin like Ivy at her side?

Plus now there were cakes to eat!