15 Secrets and Spies - My Sister the Vampire (14 page)

She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she almost walked straight into the girl heading towards her. ‘Oh!’ She caught herself just in time. ‘I’m so s– oh,
Camilla
!’ Olivia felt her face break into a beaming smile as she took in the sight of her best friend. ‘I’m so glad you’re here!’

‘Do I look OK?’ Camilla fingered one bouncy blonde curl, fidgeting nervously. ‘I wanted to look artistic – but not full of myself, you know? And it had to be fancy, but
–’

‘You look perfect,’ Olivia assured her.

It was true. From the garnet brooch pinned to her velvet black beret to the black-and-white silk Charlie Chaplin outfit she wore, Camilla had definitely dressed up. But she was just as
definitely still her artistic self.

‘Now, come on.’ Olivia took her friend’s arm. ‘I promise, I’ll answer
all
your questions about last week’s block of filming – but first, we
have a mission.’

‘Really?’ Camilla brightened. ‘Hey, do you think you could get me in through the secret “family entrance”? That bouncer looks pretty scary.’

‘Hmm.’ Olivia looked at the side-entrance, where Albert – wearing a tuxedo, rather than his paint-stained jogging outfit – stood with his arms crossed, looking as if
he’d swallowed a lemon. ‘It’s worth a try,’ she decided. ‘Let’s do it!’

. . . And let’s hope I don’t get into trouble for this!
she added silently.

As they neared the door, Olivia pasted on a big smile. She was already preparing her rationalisation as she opened her mouth . . .

. . . but she didn’t have time to deliver it. Albert was already stepping back and opening the door. ‘This Camilla?’ he grunted.

‘Um, yes,’ Camilla said, and traded a wide-eyed glance with Olivia.

Albert nodded. ‘Lillian told me to expect her as well.’

Phew
. Olivia beamed at him as they swept past into the museum.
How perfect!
She’d gotten out of this one without having to lie
or
put the vampire secret at risk.
And best of all, she’d gotten Camilla inside, exactly where she needed her.

Whether Camilla knew it or not, she was
essential
to Olivia’s plan to fix everything that was wrong with her family!

Ivy traded a nervous look with Brendan behind Marc Daniels’s back as they led him around the museum exhibit.

‘
Let’s hope this works!
’ Brendan mouthed silently to her.

Ivy could only nod . . . then fix a quick smile on her face as Mr Daniels turned around. ‘Isn’t it wonderful?’ she asked.

‘It really is.’ Brendan’s dad had been in a dark mood for days, but the exhibit was working its magic on him. At last, some of the scowl lines were easing from his forehead.
‘Your father has done an amazing job, Ivy. This whole exhibit is gorgeous.’ He sighed. ‘It’s such a rich history that our kind has. I forget that sometimes.’

‘You have to see this next piece.’ Forcing herself to move as if this really were nothing more than a casual wander, Ivy led him to a velvet cushion around the next corner.

On top of the jet-black cushion lay a long, swirling piece of gold jewellery studded with deep-set, glinting gemstones, from white, black and yellow diamonds to pigeon-blood rubies. Two golden
serpents lay ensnared, apparently as a single piece . . . but in actuality, as the chart in the back of the glass case showed, the two serpents came apart at a single twist. Then, the yellow-gold
serpent would form a bracelet while the white-gold serpent became an ornate ring.

‘The Jewellery of the Two Sisters,’ Mr Daniels breathed. He reached out as if to touch the glass case, and visibly stopped himself just in time. ‘I can’t believe
I’m really seeing it with my own eyes.’

Brendan coughed. ‘So . . . you’ve heard of it before?’

His father couldn’t seem to look away from the ensnared serpents. ‘I’ve heard the legend,’ he replied. ‘It’s said that these pieces originally belonged to two
va– that is,
V
sisters. The serpents represent the two qualities that are most important to any of our kind – discretion and power.’

He drew a deep, reverent breath, and dropped his voice to a thread-like whisper that only another vampire could hear. ‘Almost a thousand years ago, the two sisters were sent away on a
vampire crusade. They divided the two pieces between them as a symbol of their desire to one day find each other. But only one sister returned with her half of the jewellery. The other sister was
never found. And according to legend, her ring was left discarded beneath a pile of crumbling stone.’

Sniffing, he dropped his head. ‘Sorry.’ He shook his head, keeping his eyes averted. ‘That story has always got to me, every time I’ve heard it. And to actually see the
pieces now, making it all so real . . .’

‘Of course,’ Ivy murmured.

It got to her, too. How could it not? The idea of being separated from Olivia forever . . . it was unbearable.

And to think, just over a year ago, I still thought I was an only child!
Ivy gave a rueful smile.
I am so thankful to have been proved wrong on that.

But that wasn’t –
couldn’t
be – her main concern. Right now, she just had one big question . . . the same question she could see in Brendan’s eyes:

Would Mr Daniels’s spontaneous monologue soften him up for the surprise they’d prepared? Or was everything about to explode in their faces?

‘I’ve always loved that story, too.’ Carla spoke behind them, her voice soft. As Mr Daniels spun around to face her, she smiled tentatively. ‘Ever since our father first
sat us down and told it to us. Do you remember? It was on a steam-train journey to California.’

But Marc Daniels still hadn’t said a word. He was staring at his sister, his face completely unreadable. Ivy shot a quick, questioning look at Brendan – who only shrugged, looking
just as baffled as she felt. Was his dad outraged? Too furious to speak? Or . . .?

The chiming sound of a fork tapping a glass filtered through the noise of the crowd, making everyone fall silent.

‘May I have everyone’s attention?’ Charles Vega stood in the centre of the room, smiling broadly. ‘I’d like to give my most sincere thanks to all of you for making
the effort to visit the museum today. I hope you’ll all put the word out so that everyone in Franklin Grove knows we have no need to leave town to experience a bit of majestic culture. We
draw quite a lot of culture and wonder to our own community, right here – because this is a magical place, without a doubt.’

As the crowd began to clap, Charles inclined his head graciously, but then he held up his hand for silence. ‘These artefacts on display,’ he said, ‘are not just motionless
pieces of clay or gold and silver, brass and stone. They are
alive
– alive with the history that they have seen and the history that they remember. Through them,
we
might
remember it, too.’

His gaze passed over the crowd. ‘History teaches us many vital lessons, often different ones each time. Perhaps the most important lesson, though, is that history is just that . . .
history
. The past is the past, and we can only remember it – sometimes fondly, sometimes not. But, whether those memories be positive or negative, we can always learn from them. In
fact, we
must
learn from them – because . . .’ his voice deepened, echoing around the spellbound room, ‘. . . our history shapes our hopes for
tomorrow
.’

The room erupted into applause, and warm pride rose in Ivy.
Just look at my dad!

Charles wasn’t the stressed-out, panicky panicker he’d been all week. Now, he was back to being the charming, confident man Ivy had grown up knowing – except, he was using the
kind of grand, airy and vague language that she usually only heard from Olivia’s adoptive dad!

Ivy grinned at the thought, but it didn’t diminish her pride. There was absolutely no doubt that Charles had meant every word he’d said . . .

. . . And Marc Daniels obviously
felt
it, from the deep, raw emotions running across his face.

‘A toast!’ Charles called. ‘To everybody at this museum!’

Carla Daniels’s lips wobbled. She hadn’t looked away from her brother for an instant. ‘Everybody?’ she whispered. ‘Marc?’

Brendan’s dad looked at her and shook his head wordlessly.

Oh, no!
Panic almost choked Ivy.
It didn’t work?

Then Brendan’s dad lunged forwards to wrap his sister in an enormous hug. He looked as if he might never let her go.

Ivy felt her eyes well up even as Brendan grabbed her hand and squeezed it hard. Across the room, she could see Maya gazing, spellbound, at the sight. Ivy might be forcing back her own happy
tears, but Maya wasn’t even trying – her tears slipped freely down her face as her lips curved into a joyous grin.

Ivy tucked her head into her boyfriend’s shoulder and sighed happily as she watched the reunion before her.

No wonder Olivia enjoys meddling so much!

The sky outside the long museum windows was already darkening by the time the exhibit finally started to wind down. As Olivia watched, a long line of patrons filed past
Charles, taking turns just to shake his hand.
He really is the king of the hour,
she thought affectionately, as their praises filled the air.

‘What a marvellous exhibition that was!’

‘There’s been nothing like it here before.’

‘Amazing!’

‘Come on,’ Olivia whispered to Camilla, as she grabbed her friend’s hand to pull her through the crowd.

But Lillian beat them to her bio-dad. ‘Congratulations, Charles,’ she said, giving him a warm embrace. ‘This really is even more impressive than I’d expected.’

‘Thank you, darling.’ Charles smiled at her. ‘I just wish I could figure out exactly what to do with the South Wing next.’

Aha!
Olivia cleared her throat, stepping forwards while Camilla hung behind. ‘Dad, didn’t you mention before that you didn’t think there should be any more space
devoted to artefacts? I’m sure you said’ –
in one of your loooong monologues earlier this week!
– ‘that the existing wings gave more than enough room for
exhibitions already.’

‘Well, yes.’ Charles sighed. ‘But what else can be done in a museum?’

‘Well . . .’ Olivia straightened her shoulders, running through the speech she had been practising – this was no time for improv! ‘Isn’t the South Wing really just
a big empty space right now?’ She gave him a meaningful look. ‘It doesn’t
look
like a museum . . . so, therefore, can it really be
called
a museum?’

Her adoptive dad would surely have been proud of her making such a vague – but very important-sounding – statement!

Charles frowned. ‘I suppose you have a point,’ he said. ‘But, my dear daughter, I’m a bit of a traditionalist. I hardly think it would be appropriate to turn a former
museum wing into a diner, or whatever it is that you might be suggesting.’

Olivia laughed as she took her bio-dad’s arm. ‘That’s not what I was thinking at all. Just tell me . . .’ She narrowed her eyes as she launched into the question
she’d prepared. ‘What
is
a museum for? The first thing that comes into your mind.’

But she couldn’t help the way her hand tightened on his arm with nerves as she waited for his answer.
Oh, please let me know my bio-dad – and my stepmom – well enough to be
right about this!

Charles raised his eyebrows. ‘The first thing that comes into my mind . . . art!’

Yes!

Olivia did silent cheers as he continued: ‘A museum is a house of art – the finest art of yesterday.’

‘Mm-hmm.’ With an effort, Olivia kept her voice calm. ‘But is that all?’

Lillian jumped in, just as Olivia had hoped she would. ‘A museum is a
record
of art – all kinds of art, from all different points in time.’ She smiled fondly at her
husband. ‘Charles said it himself, in his inspiring speech – our history shapes our
tomorrow
.’

‘Exactly!’ Olivia couldn’t help bouncing on her toes, despite her sparkly kitten heels. ‘So . . . is there any reason the South Wing of this museum can’t be a house
of
tomorrow’s
art?’