Ivy bumped shoulders with him. ‘Yeah. Let’s go home,’ she said.
He reached out to take her hand as they walked through the empty streets of Franklin Grove a few minutes later. ‘Why aren’t you more excited? You cracked the case. The blogger can be outed and she’ll stop this crazy hunt of hers. The whole vampire community is going to be safe, because of you.’
‘Maybe,’ Ivy said. She sighed.
‘So why do you look so sad?’
Ivy shook her head. She felt heavy with unhappiness, especially when she imagined Olivia’s reaction to the news. ‘One teenage girl has held the whole vampire community to ransom, Brendan. There’s something just not right about that.’
‘I guess n– uh-oh.’ They both came to a dead halt as they turned the corner of Ivy’s street. Every light in Ivy’s house was blazing – including the light in her bedroom, which she’d left dark. ‘That doesn’t look good,’ Brendan said.
‘It looks very, very not good,’ Ivy agreed. She gulped. ‘Why don’t you drop me off here? You can go home and –’
‘No way,’ Brendan said. ‘I’m not leaving you to face it all alone.’
Ivy squeezed his hand gratefully. Together, they walked up the front steps and let themselves into the house.
‘There you are!’
The Count and Countess were sitting in their dressing gowns in the living room, as rigid as statues, while Charles paced back and forth, quivering with tension. He swung around when Ivy stepped into the doorway. She flinched at the expression in his eyes. She’d never seen him look so angry . . . or so scared.
‘What on earth do you think you were playing at, young lady?’ the Countess demanded. ‘Sneaking out with your boyfriend on a night like this?’
‘That’s not . . .’ Ivy began, but her father interrupted her.
‘You might be interested to know,’ he said coldly, ‘that the wind blew your window shut and woke us. Did you really think that no one would notice you slipping out? Tonight of all nights?
Did you think we wouldn’t care?’
The Count glowered at her. ‘Did or did not your grandmother make it clear that no vampire was to leave their home tonight?’
Horatio slipped into the room, carrying a tray of steaming hot chocolate with whipped cream. Ivy turned to him gratefully. ‘Oh, thank y–’
‘This is no time for hot chocolate!’ the Count bellowed. With a wave of his arm, he sent Horatio out of the room, still carrying the tray.
Uh-oh. Ivy exchanged a nervous look with Brendan. If even Grandpa is turning down sweet treats, then things really are bad.
‘I have never in my life been so disappointed,’ the Countess said heavily. ‘It was bad enough for you to leave Wallachia Academy without any consideration for our feelings, but to flout our authority so blatantly tonight – at such a time! It is unbelievable. All I can think is that you refuse to consider yourself a part of our community.’ She shook her head, her expression weary. ‘Ivy, you have seriously let us down . . . again.’
Ivy’s throat burned as emotion choked her. She opened her mouth to say something, anything . . .
But Brendan was already speaking: ‘Wait a minute.’ He fixed the Countess with a fearless glance. ‘None of you has stopped to ask Ivy what she was really doing tonight. She wasn’t turning her back on the community. She was saving it.’
The Count glowered at him. ‘What are you talking about, young man?’
‘Sure, she took a risk, but only because she was so close to finding out the truth,’ Brendan said. ‘And she got it too. Ivy found out who the blogger is! She set up a stake out and even got photos.’
The Countess gasped. Her hand flew to her throat. Horatio edged back into the room, still holding his tray of chocolate – obviously he must have been listening from outside.
Ivy’s father put one hand on her shoulder. Gently, he asked, ‘Ivy? Will you please tell all of us who our arch-enemy is?’
Arch-enemy ? Ivy swallowed hard. It wasn’t like her dad to use such grand terms. ‘Arch-enemy’ sounded historical, dramatic . . . dangerous.
She took a deep breath. ‘Our arch– I mean, the blogger is . . . Holly.’
China rattled as Horatio lost his grip on his tray. He caught it just in time, but none of the gathered vamps said a word. They looked too stunned to speak.
Finally, Charles shook his head. Speaking slowly, as if he were still processing the information, he said, ‘Olivia’s friend? The person we let into our home? But that’s not – she couldn’t –’
‘Just look.’ Ivy showed him the photos on her camera, and her grandparents and Horatio all gathered round to see for themselves.
‘There’s no denying it, then,’ Charles said sadly, as he gazed down at the last photo.
The Countess still looked oddly fragile with shock. ‘How are we going to confront this girl?’
‘We can’t,’ Ivy said. She’d been thinking as hard as she could all the way home. No, she didn’t like Holly, but she loved Olivia . . . and there was a better way to handle this, one that didn’t involve arch-enemies and anger. Of course she wasn’t going to let the vampire community stay in fear, but sometimes misdirection was better than attack.
She lifted her chin and looked her grandparents in the eyes. ‘I’m not sure we confront her, when we still don’t know why she’s doing this. But we could find out.’
Her father frowned. ‘And how are we supposed to do that?’