Fangtastic! (10 page)

“Sorry!”
he yelped to a store clerk as he hurried after Olivia.

Olivia
walked briskly down the mall’s main hallway. The hand-lettered sign in the
window of Trudy’s Beauty Palace couldn’t have been more

perfect:
WAXED LATELY?
I bet he won’t follow me in here!
Olivia thought as she
walked to the personal care section near the back of the store. She peered out
from behind a pyramid of jars of flesh-firming cream.

Toby
was frozen outside in front of the WAXED LATELY? sign with a completely
bewildered look on his face. He was hopping nervously from foot to foot.

He
looks like he has to pee!
Olivia thought with glee.

Toby
craned his neck to see into the store, but Olivia ducked out of sight. Finally,
she saw Toby take a pained breath and come inside.

Wo
w,
thought Olivia.
He really is determined to get the inside scoop.

A
saleswoman in a white smock approached him immediately. “Can I help you?”
Olivia heard her ask.

Toby
looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Did
your mother send you in for something?” the saleswoman persisted.

“No,”
Toby finally managed. “I’m just looking.”

Yes,
but just how far will you look, Mr. Dedicated

Reporter?
Olivia wondered, darting out of the
store. In the next half hour, Olivia went into a bridal shop, a nail salon, and
a bikini store. Toby gamely followed her into every one, no matter how much it
clearly made him squirm. She was almost ready to admit defeat when she passed
Panzer’s Department Store.

Panzer’s
ladies underwear section was near the front of the store. Olivia grabbed the
craziest thing she could find off the rack and carried it over to a
floor-length mirror. In the mirror, she could see Toby pacing nervously near the
front of the store, clearly trying to get up the courage to follow her.

Olivia
held the garment up in front of her. It was a fake leopard-skin bra that was so
pointy it looked like it was made of party hats. From the distant reflection in
the mirror, she could see Toby turn fire engine red. He threw his hands up in
the air, walked out of the store, and sank down on the edge of the hallway
fountain, his head in his hands.

A
reporter defeated,
Olivia thought. She did a little dance. “I win!” she sang lightly. “I win, I
win, I win!” Then she noticed a saleslady staring at her like she had eighteen
heads. “Sorry,” Olivia whispered, putting the bra back on the rack and
hotfooting it out of the store.

Olivia
looked at Ivy’s chunky black watch.
 I think I’ve kept Toby occupied for
long enough,
she thought, satisfied that she’d done a good job. It was time
to head for Ivy’s house.

After
making her way through the food court and back across the main hall, Olivia
could see the main doors out of the mall up ahead.

“Ivy!”
someone called. “Ivy!” the voice yelled again.
That must mean me!
Olivia
realized with a jolt and spun around.

In the
distance, someone waved. A boy in black. Suddenly, Olivia’s stomach filled with
nervous butterflies as she recognized Ivy’s boyfriend, Brendan Daniels.

“Hey,”
Brendan called, his pale face breaking into a wide smile as he strolled up.

“Brendan,”
Olivia said, glancing around nervously. Yep, Toby was still on her trail,
lurking a few feet away. “What are you doing here?”

“Just
hanging out,” Brendan said. He threw an arm around her affectionately.

Fooling
Toby is one thing, but I can’t fool Ivy’s boyfriend!
Olivia thought. Brendan felt her
stiffen and pulled his arm away. “Ivy, what’s wrong?”

Olivia
blinked, her mind racing.
There couldn’t be anything worse than Brendan
realizing I’m not Ivy right now,
she thought.
It could be the end of Ivy’s
relationship and, with Toby Decker watching, maybe the outing of her twin-ness
to the whole world!

“Ivy?”
Brendan pressed, looking a little worried now.

“Nothing,”
Olivia said at last. “I’m just ...I told my dad I’d be home by 4:30 P.M., and I’m
already seriously late.” She gave her best Ivy eye roll.

“Perfect.”
Brendan grinned. “I’ll walk you home. I need to get that English book I lent
you so I can write my essay tonight.”

Olivia
didn’t move.

Brendan
gallantly held up his arm for Ivy to take hold. “Shall we?”

“Shall
we what?” Olivia gulped.

Brendan
frowned. “Shall we go to your house and get the book?” he asked, looking
puzzled.

Olivia
let her hair fall in front of her face like Ivy sometimes did. “Killer idea,”
she croaked, taking his arm.
This was
so
not part of the plan!
she
thought.

Ivy
stood in front of the adoption agency, trying to get up the nerve to go inside.
She didn’t envy Olivia, who was at the mall being followed around by Toby, but
she was still really nervous about her own mission.

The
store’s sign said MILK DUDS. It looked like a cutesy human baby furniture
store, but there was a tiny upside down “V” in the corner of the window, so Ivy
knew she was in the right place— places that served vampires often used a mark
like that to identify themselves to their customers. If the agency was like
most vampire businesses, it would be hidden at the back of the store.

In the
storefront window, the reflection of Olivia’s seriously embarrassing top
floated beside an empty baby bassinet. Ivy felt her heart flapping in her
chest.
This is where I might find out about my parents
, she thought.
What if I don’t like what I find?

Then
she thought of how eager Olivia had been for her to come here. “I hope you find
what we’re looking for,” her sister’s voice whispered in her head.

Ivy took
a deep breath, walked in, and headed straight for the back of the store, where
she found a door in the crib section labeled STAFF ONLY. Beside the door was a
small metal plate that had a black button beneath a round speaker. Ivy pressed
the button; somewhere, a buzzer sounded faintly. A moment later, the speaker
clicked to life.

Ivy
put her mouth close to it. “Marmalade,” she said carefully.
At least it’s
better than the last password,
she thought.
I hate butterscotch.

“Approach
the mirror,” a nasal voice crackled. Ivy looked around and noticed that hanging
on the wall nearby was a cartoonish ceramic monkey that had a round mirror
where its face should be. She walked over, and the mirror slid down to reveal
the pale, sharp face of a man with bifocals. It was quite a head for a goofy
monkey’s body, and Ivy cracked a smile against her will.

The
man scowled back. “Can I help you?” he asked in a nasal monotone. Ivy leaned
forward and whispered, “I’m here for the adoption agency appointment.”

The
man peered over his glasses and took in Ivy’s sparkly top. “Did Serena Star
send you?” he said suspiciously.

“No!”
said Ivy. “I’m— This is just my disguise. I wouldn’t be caught dead in clothes
like this normally.”

“Name?”
he asked.

“Ivy
Vega.”

The
man pulled away from the mirror and looked down, presumably at the appointment
book. He peered back up at Ivy, eyeing her top dubiously. “Prove it.”

Ivy
dug into Olivia’s book bag, pulled out her student ID card, and handed it over.

The
man barely looked at the card before passing it back. “Looks fake.”

“It’s
not!” Ivy cried, but the monkey man just stared at her impassively. Ivy rolled
her eyes. “What do you want me to do, bite someone?”

“Very
funny,” the man said without a hint of a smile.

Ivy
sighed with exasperation. Then she reached up and gently took out one of her
contact lenses to reveal her natural bright-violet eye color. “Okay?” she
demanded.

The
man nodded grudgingly and Ivy heard a buzz come from the door. She rushed to
put her contact lens back in and open the door before he changed his mind.

Inside,
Ivy was surprised to find a mediumsized room packed with every conceivable item
a vampire baby could want. There were utterly cute tiny black coffins lined up
against one wall and paper mobiles with bats and moons hanging from the
ceiling. Ivy’s heart nearly melted when she saw a little black onesie that said
GOT BLOOD? on it.

“Can I
help you?” asked a voice behind her.

Ivy
turned to see a friendly-looking woman whose pale face was punctuated by a shock
of bright red lipstick. She was sitting at a desk with a sign that said GIFT
REGISTRY and looking at Ivy expectantly.

Ivy
walked over to her. “I’m looking for the adoption agency,” she said.

“With
a shirt like that,” the woman replied, “I don’t think any vamp in their right
mind’s gonna adopt you, honey!”

Ivy
must have looked upset, because the woman added, “Oh, I was just teasing. You
must be Ivy Vega!”

Ivy
nodded gratefully. At least she wasn’t going to have to convince another person
that she belonged here, in spite of her bunny outfit. “But isn’t this the gift
registry?” she asked.

“Gift
registry, adoption agency, it’s all the same computer system,” the woman told
her, knocking proudly on the flickering computer screen beside her. “We just
need clearance from the central office in Transylvania.” She handed over a
clipboard. “Now you fill out these forms, Ivy Vega, and we’ll see if we can’t
take care of you.”

Ivy
took a seat on a huge black rocking chair in the corner and started filling out
the forms.
Name. Date of birth. Adoptive parent. Birth mother.
Ivy
stopped and looked up. “What if I don’t know the answer to something?” she
asked.

“Just
do the best you can, honey,” the woman said kindly.

A few
minutes later, Ivy handed back the forms. The woman flipped through them
quickly. “Let me guess. You’re looking for your mom and dad.”

Ivy
nodded hopefully.

“All
righty!” the woman said cheerfully, and Ivy had the un-Ivylike urge to hug her.
It must be the sparkles,
she thought.
They’ve gone to my head!

The
lady picked up the phone and held it between one shoulder and her cheek, while
she typed on her keyboard. “Yessiree!” she chirped into the phone after a
moment. “Oh, that’s good news, Vlad, good news!” She put her hand over the
handset and told Ivy, “I’m twenty-sixth in line to talk to an adoption
supervisor in Transylvania!”

An
hour and a half later, Ivy was still waiting. She’d overheard the woman behind
the desk get approvals from no fewer than six different people in Transylvania,
including one who had told her how to make a perfect hemoglobin soufflé.

Vampire
bureaucracy is the worst!
Ivy
thought, slumped in the enormous rocking chair.

“Thanks
again, Raj!” the woman said cheerily into the phone and finally hung up. “Ivy
Vega,” she said, “I’ve got the necessary password and your answer’s on its way!”

Ivy
looked at her skeptically, but the woman said, “I’m serious, honey. I have that
little download progress thingie on my screen right now!”

Ivy
leaped up, her heart suddenly racing.
This is it!
she thought.
I’m
finally going to find out who they were!
Questions filled her mind as she
paced the room:
Are they still alive? Did they love each other? Were they
outcasts because of their love? Why did they give us up?

The
computer beeped loudly, and Ivy hurried over. “What does it say?” she asked
breathlessly.

The
woman tapped a few keys, then some more, and then a strange look of confusion
spread over her face. “You sure your name’s Ivy Vega?” she asked.

“Of
course!” said Ivy.

“Well,
honey, I’m sorry, but you’re not in the system,” the woman said apologetically.

“What?”
Ivy exclaimed.

“It
says right here: ‘No record of an Ivy Vega.’ ”

“That
can’t be right,” Ivy said, shaking her head emphatically. “There must be some
record of my dad adopting me. Did you look under Charles Vega?”

The
woman typed in the name, and her computer beeped again. “No, honey, no
available records of a Charles Vega adopting a baby in the last four hundred
years.”

“No
records or no
available
 records?” Ivy demanded. The woman stared at her
blankly, and Ivy threw her arms in the air. “I mean, vamps are so secretive,
who knows what they’re hiding over there in Transylvania?”

The
woman sighed. “I know this must be like waking up in the wrong box for you,
honey,” she said, “but there’s nothing I can do.” She jotted something on a
scrap of paper and handed it to Ivy. “Here’s the general e-mail for central
inquiries. You’re welcome to contact them yourself, and I’m sure you’ll hear
back within four to six months. But, trust me, honey,” the woman said with a
shrug, “you’re just not in the system.”