12 Stake Out - My Sister the Vampire (4 page)

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!

Chapter Three

I
vy only wished that she could dismiss the mysterious blogger so easily. A day after they’d first discovered the web site, Olivia was running around like a rabbit who’d been fed energy drinks, getting everything ready for the baking party. Ivy took advantage of her twin’s distraction to go up to her room and get back online.

A few moments later, she was grinding her teeth as she finished reading the blogger’s latest entry:

‘
. . . Is it really true that vampires can’t stand garlic? This brave journalist is determined to find out, no matter what it takes – so watch this space
 
!
’

Some poor vampire was going to be in real trouble if they didn’t stay on their toes. Ivy still remembered a time she’d mistakenly eaten a pastrami sandwich with garlic in it – she’d taken two days to recover!

How was this blogger actually getting things right? And even more importantly, who
were
they? No matter how much Ivy poked about on the web site, she just couldn’t find a clue to his or her identity. Even when she ran the blog through the Vorld Vide Veb, nothing came up except a load of hysterical messages from vampires worried about their secrets being exposed.

Ivy hated to admit it, but they had good reason to worry . . . and she’d just had a nasty suspicion of her own. What if the mystery blogger was actually the journalist Serena Star, back on the vampire case? Calling herself ‘The Star of Truth’, she’d come dangerously close to exposing the secrets of Franklin Grove before the twins had outwitted her. If she was back for a second shot, that could really spell disaster.

Ivy had to talk to Olivia. Carrying her laptop with her, she headed down to the kitchen – just as the doorbell sounded.

Drat
 
!

Letting out a squeal of excitement, Olivia flew down the hallway to answer it. Sighing, Ivy looked for a safe place to set down her laptop. After all the energy Olivia had put into preparing this baking party, Ivy couldn’t ruin it for her.
I’ll just have to do my best to put the blogger out of my mind . . . for an afternoon.

‘We’re the first ones here!’ Sophia said, as she swept into the kitchen in front of a lagging Brendan. Behind him, Camilla was rummaging in her bag. Ivy could guess what she was rummaging for.

‘And we’ve brought ingredients!’ Wearing uber-glamorous sunglasses, Sophia waved a shoulder bag that could have come straight from the Prada line-up.

Ivy choked. ‘You put flour and sugar in
that
 
?’