10 Date with Destiny - My Sister the Vampire

by Sienna Mercer

  Gooonnnnnggggg!

  Ivy plugged her fingers into her ears as the metallic vibrations echoed through the castle. She had thought she was having a nightmare. She pinched herself, but the resounding noise still rang out. It’s . . . it’s . . . She suddenly recognised the sound. The gong! That could mean only one thing in Transylvania. A duel!

  My Sister the Vampire: Date with Destiny first published in Great Britain 2012

  by Egmont UK Limited

  239 Kensington High Street

  London W8 6SA

  Copyright © Working Partners Ltd 2012

  Created by Working Partners Limited, London WC1X 9HH

  ISBN 978 1 4052 5985 9

  eISBN 978 1 7803 1192 0

  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.

  With special thanks to Chandler Craig

  For Emily and Kelley, for listening

  Sink your fangs into these:

  Switched

  Fangtastic!

  Revamped!

  Vampalicious

  Take Two

  Love Bites

  Lucky Break

  Star Style

  Twin Spins!

  Contents

  Cover

  Title page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Sink your fangs into these

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Twin Talk!

  Chapter One

  The horror . . . the horror!

  Olivia stood in the doorway of her vampire twin’s bedroom staring at one of the scariest sights she’d ever seen. Black v-necks, skinny jeans and trendy boots were strewn over the plush red carpeting of Ivy’s room. None of them was even remotely close to a suitcase.

  ‘Ivy Vega!’ Olivia exclaimed, smacking her forehead. ‘We leave for Transylvania tomorrow ! As in twenty-four hours from now.’

  Ivy was sitting cross-legged on the floor. She glanced up from her laptop where she was busy browsing the Vorld Vide Veb, the vampire version of the internet. ‘Oops.’ She shrugged. ‘I got a little distracted.’ She held her finger and thumb a couple of centimetres apart.

  ‘Oops’ is right, thought Olivia. How is Ivy possibly going to be ready in time? She hasn’t even begun packing! The two of them had received personal invitations to Tessa and Prince Alex’s royal wedding. There were outfit choices to be made and shoe decisions and . . . Olivia shook herself. This wasn’t the time to panic; this was the time for action.

  She scooped up two limp T-shirts. ‘In case you’ve forgotten, you have a very important interview coming up at a certain fancy finishing school for vampires.’ Olivia frowned down at her twin, mock stern. As part of the vampire elite, Ivy’s vampire powers were getting stronger by the day now that she was getting older. Their grandparents, the Count and Countess, had come over to Franklin Grove especially to persuade Ivy that she should learn to control her powers at Wallachia Academy – Transylvania’s most exclusive vampire school.

  ‘Chill, my ultra-organised twin.’ Ivy rolled her heavily kohled eyes. ‘I’ve started packing.’

  ‘Taking your clothes out of your closet and dropping them on the floor does not equal packing.’ Olivia held up Ivy’s rumpled T-shirts as evidence. ‘It equals a mess.’ She started folding the T-shirts into neat squares. She couldn’t help herself; the chaos was beginning to stress her out. ‘Right,’ she said. ‘I’m going to have to take over this whole operation. Suitcase?’ she asked, as if she were a surgeon requesting her scalpel.

  Ivy pointed at a turned-over suitcase jutting halfway out of the closet. ‘See? At least I got it half-out.’

  Olivia picked her way through her sister’s scattered belongings, trying not to step on the clothes – she certainly didn’t want to have to iron too! In moments, she was creating a neat stack of jeans and tops inside Ivy’s bag just as she had done with her own not so darkly coloured clothes yesterday. She looked over her shoulder at Ivy, who had returned to her computer. On-screen, Olivia spotted the Wallachia Academy crest with its two bats on either side of a blood-red shield. Very vampire-esque.

  Olivia was half aware that she was folding clothes increasingly slowly – she just couldn’t help staring at the screen, even though she knew it was rude to watch over someone’s shoulder. The pictures of Wallachia Academy showed happy-looking teenagers tossing Frisbees on perfectly manicured lawns. Girls sat beneath trees to read in the shade. And the boys, Olivia had to admit, looked completely drop dead. Wallachia Academy seemed more like a teenage resort than the stuffy private school that her twin sister was dreading so much.

  Ivy must have sensed her looking because she glanced up from the screen.

  ‘Socks!’ Olivia blurted to cover up her snooping. ‘You can’t go to Wallachia Academy without socks!’ She frowned. ‘In fact, I’m not sure many of these clothes are suitable. You’re going to be mixing with Transylvanian high society.’ Olivia held up a black T-shirt with the words ‘Silent Night, Scary Night’ printed in a spooky white font. ‘I mean, seriously ?’

  Ivy snatched the T-shirt from Olivia’s grasp. ‘I sleep in that!’

  Olivia crinkled her nose. ‘Even so.’ She flung wide the doors to Ivy’s closet. ‘You need to wear your best stuff if you’re going to impress at your interview.’ She started flipping through the hangers. ‘A nice dress – black, obviously – will do the trick.’ Olivia pulled out a simple shift and another long-sleeved wrap dress. Ivy’s fashion sense leaned a bit darker than Olivia’s preferred parade of pink, but her sister still always managed to look completely vampire-vogue. So what’s she doing packing a bunch of uncoordinated outfits?

  ‘These are old, though,’ Olivia continued. ‘What we need is an emergency shopping trip. I know! I’ll call Sophia. She can meet us at the mall. And –’

  ‘Olivia!’

  Olivia slumped on to the bed, scattered with goth band T-shirts. ‘I’m overdoing it, aren’t I?’

  Ivy nodded, a sympathetic smile on her face.

  ‘I just want you to make the most of this awesome opportunity and I don’t want you to think I’m going to be upset at the thought of not having you around for a while.’ Olivia stretched the corners of her mouth into the widest grin possible. ‘See? I’m totally OK with it all.’

  Ivy giggled. ‘OK? You’re zipping around like a bumble bee who’s had too much sugar. Plus,’ Ivy went on, leaning forwards, ‘I haven’t decided I’m going. I’m checking it out. That’s all.’

  Olivia lifted an eyebrow. ‘Now don’t make me go super-bossy for real. This is the kind of thing other vamp kids would eat a vegetarian sandwich for. If you really do want to go to Wallachia, then nothing in Franklin Grove should stop you.’

  ‘But –’

  ‘Brendan and I will still be here when you get back. He adores you; he’d wait a lifetime.’ Olivia picked up a framed picture of Ivy, Olivia and Brendan making goofy faces in the movie-theatre photo booth and tossed it in her twin’s bag. Just in case.

  Ivy nodded, twisting her mouth as if she was trying to think up another objection. ‘I still don’t like the thought of you being left on your own. Especially after . . .’
<
br />   Olivia’s muscles went rigid and Ivy froze mid sentence. It was clear she’d been about to say the J-word, which had been officially erased from their vocabulary. Although Olivia and her Hollywood boyfriend, Jackson, had shared a swoon-worthy slow dance at the recent school prom, it had been really hard to say goodbye afterwards, when he’d had to return to filming. Like, really hard. The two of them had tried to Skype and phone as often as they could, but with his long hours on set and Olivia’s social life, they’d kept missing each other. The writers’ strike was still on in Hollywood, but Jackson had agreed to join some filming in Europe for a small, independent set of film-makers – to give his career more credibility, he’d told Olivia – and now he was even busier.

  ‘We need to make this easier on ourselves,’ Jackson had said, during their last conversation. ‘Let’s agree not to be in touch until we can meet face-to-face. Deal?’

  ‘Deal,’ Olivia had agreed, even though it had made her heart twist. Anything had to be better than the torture of missed phone calls and terse conversations. Since that last discussion, they hadn’t spoken, and Olivia had banned everyone from talking to her about Jackson or even saying his name. It seemed harsh, she knew, but it was the only way to save herself from going half crazy pining for him.

  Hollywood plus Franklin Grove did not equal an easy relationship, it turned out.

  Olivia chewed her lip, shifting on the bed. She could feel tears starting to pool in the corners of her eyes. Great, she thought. Just as she was trying to convince Ivy that she was super-OK with her leaving, here she was turning into a blubbering mess.

  ‘You know what?’ Ivy jumped up, clapping her hands. ‘We should pack!’

  Olivia laughed at her sister’s attempt to act like her personal cheerleader. She still felt as if she had a boulder in her stomach, but at least the awkward silence was broken. Her tears spilled over on to her cheeks. At least Ivy’s pretending not to notice, she thought. Ivy always knew just the best way to behave around Olivia, especially when it came to affairs of the heart.

  The two of them threw themselves down by the suitcase and got to work. Olivia was a machine, grabbing, folding and packing. She was so consumed with her task, she could almost forget that she no longer actually spoke to her handsome celebrity boyfriend.

  Olivia reached for a jumper and felt a sharp tug on the fabric from the other end. She let go, scared it would rip.

  ‘Waaaah!’ Ivy toppled backwards, hitting the ground with a thump. Olivia hadn’t even noticed Ivy was holding it too!

  ‘Are you OK?’ Olivia asked, through sniggers that snuck past her lips. After a moment, she gave up trying to hide her laughter – at least the gloomy mood had been zapped. Olivia pulled her sister back upright, still giggling.

  ‘What’s so funny?’ asked a voice from behind them.

  Ivy and Olivia span round. On the screen of Ivy’s computer, the Wallachia web site had been replaced by a real-time image of Georgia Huntingdon. Georgia’s thin face peered out at them through artsy reading glasses. ‘Well?’ asked Georgia.

  Olivia’s eyes were wide. She’d never seen a vamp use the Lonely Echo online phone programme, but that had to be what Georgia was using to contact them! The question was, why was VAMP magazine’s best journalist getting in touch in the first place? Ivy and Olivia crowded in front of the screen.

  ‘Um, hi there,’ said Ivy, adjusting her video cam so that they were both in the frame. ‘We were just laughing because . . . Well, it seemed funny at the time.’

  ‘Never mind.’ Georgia’s ringlet curls swished across her shoulders. ‘I’m glad I caught you. Listen, I’m in the hospital.’

  Ivy gasped. ‘What happened?’

  Georgia lifted her arm and a thick, black cast appeared on the screen. ‘I broke my wrist on a skiing vacation in Aspen.’ She shook her head. ‘Now I get to walk around for ten weeks with this as my accessory.’

  Olivia groaned. She could just imagine how much it would pain the magazine editor to be stuck with an ungainly cast. I bet she’s not even allowed to accessorise it with diamanté.

  Ivy shuddered. ‘Sounds painful. You can count me out of the whole skiing thing. I’m never going – too dangerous.’

  ‘Yes, it can be . . . quite treacherous,’ Georgia said. She suddenly started busying herself with stirring sugar into a cup of coffee on a side table beside her chair.

  ‘Was it a black slope?’ Olivia asked, shuddering. ‘I’ve heard that they’re terrifying.’

  ‘Like sheets of glass,’ Ivy agreed.

  ‘Um . . .’ Olivia noticed that Georgia now had two pink spots on her cheeks. ‘The ice was very bad, I hear.’ Her voice had gone almost as soft as a whisper.

  The twins shared a glance. Even Olivia had to admit, she felt the prickle of something not being quite right.

  ‘You hear?’ Ivy repeated. ‘You mean you don’t know? How did you break your wrist exactly?’

  Georgia slammed her coffee cup down so that black liquid spilt over her cashmere skirt.

  ‘Now, really, girls! Who is the journalist here? You or me? These probing questions really aren’t necessary.’ She called to someone off-screen whom the twins couldn’t see. ‘David! Bring me a napkin!’ She was busy wiping down her skirt.

  Olivia felt laughter bubbling up inside of her. ‘Georgia? Did you even make it out on to the slopes?’

  Their friend gave a deep sigh and gazed up at them. ‘All right, all right, I’ll admit it. I slipped while I was putting my ski boots on in the hotel room. Can you believe that?’ Georgia smacked herself on the forehead, knocking her head with the giant plaster cast. She rolled her eyes. ‘Wrong hand.’

  Ivy scooted out of view of the computer webcam, squeezing her hand over her mouth. She tried to cover up her snort of laughter with a fake sneeze.

  Olivia’s shoulders shook too but she managed not to laugh. ‘Excuse my sister.’ She shot Ivy a meaningful look. ‘She’s recovering from a very sudden cold.’

  ‘Sorry, Georgia,’ said Ivy, composing herself as she stepped in front of the screen again. ‘You were saying?’

  Georgia rolled her eyes. ‘Yes, very funny, I’m sure. But with my injury, I can’t cover the Vampire Royal Wedding in Transylvania.’

  Olivia furrowed her eyebrows.

  Georgia must have noticed her confused look. ‘A journalist can’t write with a hairline fracture in her arm.’ That did sound unpleasant, but Olivia still didn’t understand what it had to do with them. ‘But it’s OK,’ continued Georgia. ‘I have the best back-up plan. Why don’t you two cover the wedding on my behalf?’

  ‘Cover the wedding?’ Olivia and Ivy asked in unison.

  ‘You would be roving reporters for VAMP magazine. I know you already have invitations, so it’s perfect. A young, fresh perspective.’ She paused. ‘So – how does that sound?’

  Ivy wasn’t laughing any more. A chance at being a real journalist! Olivia knew how much that would mean to her sister. And VAMP magazine was sold in practically every BloodMart in the country. It was a huge opportunity. ‘Are you serious?’

  ‘Dead,’ replied Georgia. Olivia could see her personal assistant, David, in the background, smoothing cushions on a chaise longue. Clearly, it was nearly time for the star journalist’s afternoon nap.

  ‘Will you do it, darlings?’ she asked, as she climbed on to the chaise longue and David arranged an eye mask over her face.

  ‘We’d love to!’ the girls said together. Georgia gave a smile of acknowledgement and the window vanished from the screen.

  ‘I feel like bats are fluttering inside my tummy,’ Ivy murmured. Olivia knew this might be her sister’s big break into the journalism world. ‘Ivy Vega reporting from Transylvania . . .’ Ivy turned to stare at Olivia, her eyes wide. ‘I like the sound of that!’

  ‘It gets even better,’ said Ivy. ‘Olivia and I actually get to work together. Olivia’s going to take the photos and advise me on all the names of the dresses and things.’ She had her elbows propped on a
table at the Meat and Greet diner, leaning in as she relayed every detail of her conversation with Georgia to Sophia and Brendan. ‘Isn’t that the most A-positive thing to happen?’

  Brendan smiled, though Ivy noticed that it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He glanced away and Ivy paused while Sophia slipped out of the booth for some fresh napkins.

  ‘Everything’s OK, isn’t it?’ she asked him, once Sophia was out of earshot. ‘You’re sure you’re OK with me going?’

  Brendan brushed a lock of hair from her eyes. ‘Of course I’m sure. I encouraged you, didn’t I? It’s just . . . I’d hoped this would be the most A-positive thing to happen to you.’

  He drew a small velvet box from the back pocket of his jeans and put it down on the table between Ivy and himself. ‘It’s a little going-away gift.’

  ‘Oh, Brendan, you shouldn’t have . . .’ Ivy said.

  ‘Well, in that case!’ Brendan started to take the box back, but Ivy snatched it up before he had the chance. They both laughed.

  ‘Open it,’ Brendan said softly.

  The hinges creaked as Ivy prised back the satin-lined lid. Inside was a small jewelled brooch in the shape of the letter ‘I’ in swirly lettering.

  ‘It’s perfect,’ Ivy breathed. She wasn’t obsessed with jewellery in the way Olivia was, but this was understated and personal. She couldn’t have asked for anything more.

  ‘I’d tell you you’re the perfect boyfriend, but I don’t want your head to get too big,’ Ivy said, as she pinned the brooch to her top. Sophia arrived back at their table, her eyes wide.

  ‘Brendan – did you buy Ivy the perfect gift?’ Ivy grinned as Sophia sat back down.

  ‘You sure you want to go?’ she asked Ivy, nodding at Brendan. ‘You’re really going to leave this guy behind?’

  Brendan placed a hand over Ivy’s. ‘I wouldn’t have it any other way. Me and royal weddings . . . I can take them or leave them. Ivy and Olivia will have a riot without me.’