17 Spooktacular - My Sister the Vampire (15 page)

She’d had to run all the way to the Franklin Grove Museum to borrow a red Victorian dress, but at least this time she’d been smart enough to wear trainers . . . and Albert had been
more than happy to loan the historic dress when he’d heard the reason she needed it. Now that she was perfectly dressed for her part, she arranged her long hair down over her face, which she
had slathered with Sophia’s pale foundation. Still, she’d never felt quite so self-conscious about any part she’d ever played.

Talk about immersing yourself in a role!

This might well turn out to be the most excruciatingly embarrassing scene of her life . . . but when the vampire community really needed her, she couldn’t possibly say no.
I have to
protect my family, no matter what it takes.

Head lowered to keep her face hidden under her hair, she started for the back door of the diner . . . then stopped.

Why was it standing open already?

She hurried through the doorway, her wide, floor-length skirts rustling around her. When she walked through the empty kitchen, she found that door open, too . . . and total chaos in the shadowed
front room of the diner.

Olivia stared in shock as Gregor and almost all of the other crewmembers chased after five boy-shaped white “ghosts” in bedsheets. Laughter and shouting echoed around the big room.
Reiko was pumping her fist in the air, Jackson was clapping . . . Only Ivy had her eyes on the kitchen doorway, and she gave Olivia a wink as she opened her mouth and raised one finger to
point.

‘Look!’ Ivy screamed, so loudly that everyone turned.

That’s my cue.

Assuming a wistful, distant look, Olivia drifted slowly through the doorway into the room.

‘Ahhhh!’ White bedsheets went flying as the boys threw them off.

Olivia wasn’t even the slightest bit surprised to recognise Josh and his greasy gang underneath. But when they caught sight of her, their faces went sickly green.

‘It’s a
real
ghost!’ Garrick shrieked. ‘Get out of here!’

Josh lunged for the door. ‘I’m getting out first – I’m your leader!’

As all five boys scrambled for the front door, Olivia kept her expression as distant and unaffected as if she hadn’t heard a word they’d said. Slo-o-owly, she drifted towards Gregor,
who stood frozen, staring at her as if transfixed.

Then he suddenly jumped into action. ‘You!’ He jabbed his fingers at the camera crew, his Eastern European accent even thicker than Olivia had heard it before. ‘You had better
still be rolling!’ he bellowed. ‘We can edit out the last few minutes. Just don’t lose any of this good stuff!’

Turning back to Olivia, he smoothed down his hair and took a deep breath. ‘I . . . that is . . .’ He squared his shoulders. ‘Spirit, I greet you,’ he said to her as she
drifted almost close enough to touch. Then he tilted his chin, taking the perfect angle for the camera, as he spoke towards the closest cameraman. ‘I can hardly believe it. For the first time
in my life, I am standing next to an actual spirit, and the feeling is almost indescribable. The –’

‘Sorry, what?’ Olivia giggled and hurried forwards to touch his arm, making him jump. ‘Wait, no! Did you really think I was an actual ghost?’

Gregor stared at her, his jaw working up and down but no sound coming out.

Olivia threw her hair back to reveal her face and did her best ditz impression. ‘I’m so
happy
!’ She beamed at him. ‘What a compliment! See, I’m an
actress’ – she fluttered her eyelashes – ‘and I’m preparing for a really big role in a film called
Eternal Sunset.
Have you heard of it?’

Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed Jackson clapping one hand to his mouth before he turned away, his shoulders shaking with barely-restrained laughter.

Gregor swallowed visibly. ‘Well – yes, but –’

‘Oh,
yay
!’ Olivia bounced on her toes and clapped her hands together in fake-delight. ‘That is just so totally awesome! And see, the last time we were filming, my
director told me something about . . . oh, I think he called it
method acting
?’ She tilted her head, trying to look confused. ‘Have you heard of that one, too?’

Gregor’s shoulders slumped in obvious despair. ‘Yes,’ he groaned. ‘I’ve heard of it.’

‘Oh, you
are
smart,’ Olivia said approvingly. ‘So you’ll understand this perfectly! Because that whole “method acting” idea got me thinking about how
walking around in my costume here in my hometown would be such a great way to, like,
possess
my character. But I didn’t think for one minute that I would ever scare anybody . . .
This is all a big misunderstanding!’ She clicked her tongue sympathetically, giving his arm another pat. ‘I am just so sorry if I frightened you, Gregor. This is
sooooooo
embarrassing. I really couldn’t be sorrier!’

‘Oh, no?’ Gregor demanded. He stared at her, eyes wide, trembling with visible outrage. ‘Well,
I
am! I am sorrier than anyone can possibly imagine that I was ever
fooled into visiting this town in the first place. I am never coming back here again!’

With a roar, he threw his mic to the floor. Then he collapsed beside it, burying his head in his hands, as the grinning camera crew moved closer to circle him, filming every angle of his
despair.

‘I can’t believe it,’ Gregor groaned, his voice almost unrecognisable. ‘My big break – ruined! I’m never getting off Channel 237. I’m surrounded by
idiots and frauds. Surrounded!’

The closest cameraman rolled his eyes, but Olivia cringed. She couldn’t help feeling a little guilty . . . until suddenly, she realised something.

Wait a second.
Her eyes narrowed.
He’s talking in a New York accent, not an Eastern European one! Talk about a serious fraud!

B
ut although Gregor had been driven away, Olivia wasn’t finished with ghosts yet. That night, she shivered and wrapped her arms around
herself as she walked with Ivy through the moonlit skate park, towards the picnic tables and the shadows of the forest beyond. Thank goodness she had changed out of the fusty Victorian dress hours
ago, back into her comfortable yoga pants and cosy sweater. But even the warm wool coat that she’d added on top didn’t stop the chill that ran through her now.

‘I’m not saying this is a
bad
idea,’ she muttered, ‘but so far, it’s not my favourite of your schemes, Ivy Vega. Are you finally ready to explain why it
was so important for me to meet you in the park
at night
?’

The text that Ivy had sent her half an hour ago had been an SOS, so Olivia hadn’t even bothered to argue. She just grabbed her coat and ran. But from the moment she’d met Ivy at the
gates and stepped into the darkened park, leaving all the street lamps behind, her personal creep-factor had zoomed way out of control.

‘We need to do this at night so that we can be alone,’ Ivy told her. ‘I finally figured it all out today . . . and believe it or not, it was that idiot Gregor Gleka who made me
see it!’ Ivy squared her shoulders. ‘Do you remember that theory of Sophia’s, about the final birthday tea party that the Calhoun twins were never able to celebrate?’

Olivia frowned. ‘The one they were supposed to share after Hope got home from England?’

‘That’s right.’ Ivy took long strides that swept the billowing tails of her calf-length coat out around her as they neared the picnic tables and the rustling trees just beyond.
‘And remember that obsidian bracelet that Patience was holding when you saw her? The bracelet she’d been planning to give Hope at their birthday party?’

Olivia shivered. ‘How could I not remember my one and only encounter with a real ghost? I couldn’t forget that bracelet if I tried.’

Ivy nodded, her long hair swishing around her face in the darkness. ‘What if Patience can’t, either? What if Sophia was right, and giving that final gift is so important to her that
she hasn’t been able to rest until Hope finally gets it?’

Olivia nibbled on her lower lip, thinking it through. ‘It makes sense,’ she admitted at last, ‘at least as much sense as any ghost story can . . . But it’s just like you
said to Sophia last night: what good does it do for us to know that? Hope’s never going to get that gift, is she? And there’s nothing we can do about it.’

‘Well, that’s what I used to think, too.’ Ivy sighed. ‘But then I saw Hope outside my house last night.’

‘You did?’ Olivia frowned. ‘Why didn’t you tell me she was in Franklin Grove too?’

Ivy shrugged, looking sheepish. ‘I was too creeped out. But then I realised . . . you and I are the only two people who’ve actually seen the ghosts this time around. It can’t
be a coincidence that we were the ones they came to. Maybe Patience appearing to you is what made it possible for Hope to appear to me?’

‘You mean . . .’ Olivia’s eyes widened. ‘Because we’re twins, too?’

‘That’s right. We’re the only ones who really know what that bond feels like. And that’s why we’re the only ones who can do this.’ Ivy nudged Olivia gently
towards the closest picnic table until they were sitting across from each other on the wooden seats, only a few feet away from the forest. Then she reached up to fiddle with something at the back
of her neck.

When she brought her hands back down, one of them was cupped protectively around something Olivia couldn’t see. ‘Look what I brought with me tonight,’ she said, opening up her
hand.

Olivia leaned across the table, peering at Ivy’s hand in the faint moonlight. It took a moment to make out the shape of the small object nestled in Ivy’s palm, but then . . . Olivia
gasped, reaching out to touch it gently with one finger. ‘Your ring!’

Attached to a long golden chain was the emerald ring Ivy had had since she was born: the twin to Olivia’s own emerald ring, and the most important, life-long symbol of their sisterhood.
They might have been separated as babies and brought up in different families, but their rings had always bound them together, long before they had actually met. From the moment they’d first
realised they had matching rings – and discovered exactly what that meant – each girl had kept her own ring safely locked in a jewellery box at home, treasures too precious to ever risk
losing.

The sight of Ivy’s ring in her hand now brought back every memory Olivia had of all the moments she had spent as a little girl, gazing at her own ring and wondering who her birth family
might have been . . . and the precious moment when she had finally realised that she had not just a sister but a
twin.

Tears filled her eyes. She blinked rapidly, her vision so blurred she barely even noticed the sudden glow in the darkness behind Ivy. Even when the glow transmuted into the shape of a familiar,
dark-haired girl, her red dress shining in the darkness and one hand clutching an obsidian bracelet, Olivia couldn’t bring herself to feel creeped out.

All she could feel was so much sympathy it was as if her heart might crack.

How could anyone ever bear to lose their twin?

Patience Calhoun’s gaze skittered across Olivia and Ivy frantically as she turned her head back and forth, searching desperately around the park. ‘Have you seen my sister? Have you
seen Hope?’

Olivia let the tears roll down her cheeks as Ivy twisted around to stare at the ghost girl, her mouth falling open. ‘I’m so sorry,’ Olivia whispered to Patience. ‘We were
the lucky ones. Our story was the opposite to yours – each finding a twin we never knew we had.’

‘That’s right.’ Ivy’s voice sounded choked with emotion as she passed her emerald ring to Olivia. ‘And that’s why we know exactly what Patience and Hope are
feeling – and why Patience can still give Hope her gift after all. The actual bracelet was lost long ago . . . but that’s not the important part. When I look at this ring, I don’t
see a material object. I see a symbol of my favourite person: my twin sister. And what I really want
you
to know – what Patience needs, more than anything, for Hope to know, as her
final birthday gift – is just how much it means to us that we found each other.’

‘It means everything,’ Olivia agreed in a tear-choked whisper.

A burst of cold air swept through the park, coming straight from the forest behind Olivia’s back.

‘
Aaaaahhhhhhhhhh
. . .’

It was that eerie, wailing wind again – the one that raised every hair on the back of her neck. But as Olivia watched, Patience’s face lit up with sudden joy. The ghost girl looked
over Olivia’s head, directly towards the source of the wind.

Her breath catching in her throat, Olivia turned on her narrow wooden seat, following the ghost’s gaze . . .

And saw an identical dark-haired girl in the trees just where the Calhoun house must have once stood. Hope Calhoun wore a wide-skirted dress of pale blue, not red, but her face glowed with
happiness, just like her sister’s.

The two ghost girls glided towards each other through the air, their faces bright with joy and their feet never touching the ground. Patience held out the bracelet in one hand . . .

. . . and Hope reached out one hand to accept it, wrapping the other around her sister in a hug she had waited more than a century to give.