Ugh, she thought. That's the fastest way to ruin a romantic daydream.

Garrick was a vampire and he trooped around school with his three vampire friends in a pack. They called themselves the Beasts. He continually risked breaking the First Law through sheer stupidity. He'd even tried to bite a cheerleader once but had chickened out at the last minute.

'Huh, huh.' His laugh sounded like spinning helicopter blades. 'Sorry, Olivia.' He grinned. 'Or should I say, I beggeth your pardon, my Juliet?'

'You're auditioning for Romeo?' Olivia asked incredulously.

'Yeah,' he said, like she'd just asked him if coffins creaked. 'There's, like, five kissing scenes.'

Olivia crinkled her nose. 'Well, good luck.'

'I'm making my own luck,' Garrick said and grinned wickedly. Then he sauntered off towards Jackson.

Whatever, Olivia thought. There is no way Garrick could possibly be Romeo.

'Hey, sis!' Ivy appeared out of nowhere, her allblack turtleneck blending in with the black curtains. Her only concession to the warmer spring weather was to wear a knee-length skirt with her boots, rather than a floor-length one. 'You ready?' She had on headphones with a microphone attached and was holding a clipboard in full-on stage-manager mode. 'The director is on her way.'

'As ready as I'll ever be,' Olivia said.

'Five minutes to start, folks,' Ivy said to anyone within earshot, making Olivia's stomach do a handspring. 'I hope you've paid attention to the auditioning order. If you miss your slot, you're out of luck.'

A younger girl with red hair looked terrified at Ivy's firm tone and Olivia gave her a rea.s.suring smile. 'Don't worry,' she said. 'Just don't go somewhere to fix your hair before your turn.'

The girl didn't look any more relaxed.

Ivy moved around backstage, giving the little groups of nervous auditionees the same message. Olivia could see Sophia Hewitt, Ivy's best friend and the other half of the backstage team, doing the same. One girl with pigtails rushed towards the backstage bathroom with her hand over her mouth.

Poor girl, Olivia thought.

She glanced over to see what Jackson was doing and saw Ivy walking towards him. With each step, an odd cloud of greenish powder billowed up from around Ivy's feet.

What's powder doing on the ground? Olivia wondered. That could make people slip!

An instant later, Ivy let out a yowl. 'A-eeee!' She dropped her clipboard with a clatter and crouched down to scratch furiously at her legs and ankles.

Olivia hurried over, being sure to avoid the powder. 'What's happened?' Jackson was already trying to help hold Ivy up while she balanced awkwardly on one leg.

'Itching!' Ivy shrieked. 'Itching everywhere!'

Olivia took her other arm for support while Sophia rushed over. 'What's going on?' she demanded.

'Eeiii dooooon't knoooooow,' Ivy wailed, rubbing her legs in desperation.

Jackson bent down to examine the ground.

'Is it fire ants or something?' Olivia asked, struggling to support Ivy, who was half-standing and half-collapsed on to one knee.

'I can't see any,' said Sophia.

'There's your culprit.' Jackson pointed to a paper bag, only half-hidden under a dusty tweed armchair. 'All this green stuff is itching powder.' He pulled the bag out carefully and folded it up, making sure no more powder escaped.

The other auditionees had gathered around.

'n.o.body step on that,' Sophia ordered to everyone nearby.

'Grr ... Arrg!' Now Ivy was sitting down, scrambling to yank off her shoes. 'Scratch my foot!'

Olivia crinkled her nose. That was one of the grossest things she could imagine. 'Um ... No, thanks.'

'Is she auditioning for a different play?' asked a younger boy, wearing a Robin-Hood-style cap with a feather in it.

'I'll be right back,' Jackson said.

Olivia was left in charge of a convulsing Ivy.

'Scratch my foot!' Ivy screeched again. 'I can't do both at once.'

'Somebody put that cat out of its misery,' sneered Charlotte.

'Shut up,' commanded Sophia.

Charlotte shut her mouth automatically, shocked to have been put in her place.

Olivia took a deep breath, closed her eyes and knelt down to help her sister. Ivy's pale legs were red from all the scratching, and her toes kept curling up with each yelp.

Olivia reached out hesitantly, not sure she could actually do this. 'You so owe me,' she muttered. She took Ivy's ankle in one hand and was just about to scratch it when Jackson interrupted.

'These should help.' He handed over a stack of wet paper towels.

Just in time, Olivia thought with relief, dropping Ivy's leg and hastily climbing to her feet.

Ivy pressed the damp towels against her legs, closing her eyes with relief, while Sophia and Jackson worked to mop up the powder on the ground. 'Oh my darkness, that's so much better.' Ivy closed her eyes and flopped back on to the wooden floor.

Olivia was baffled. 'Why would anyone go after the stage manager with itching powder?'

'I'm going to guess that it was meant for me,' Jackson said. 'No one else was over here and I am auditioning for the lead. Sorry, Ivy.'

Sophia frowned. 'But why would anyone resort to sabotage?'

Olivia looked around at the actors who were still watching the drama unfold. It was true that anyone who was auditioning for Romeo would see Jackson as their main threat, but this was pretty devious.

'Whoever it was is in for a staking,' Ivy said, finally calming down now that the damp towels had relieved the itching. She gazed down at her ankles. They were red-raw from scratching and an angry rash ran all the way up her legs. Whoever had done this had meant business.

'That is blatant cheating and someone is going to get disqualified from the auditions.' Ivy pointed a long finger at Jackson. 'Hand over that powder!'

'Yes, ma'am,' Jackson said, pa.s.sing her the little brown bag.

As soon as it was in her hand, she whirled around. 'Did anyone see anything?'

'I didn't,' said the feather-in-cap guy.

'Not me,' replied Sophia.

Out of the corner of her eye, Olivia spotted Garrick disappearing behind a curtain, obviously trying not to be seen.

His voice echoed in her head. 'I'm making my own luck,' he'd said. Itching powder was exactly the kind of thing Garrick Stevens would go for.

'Ivy,' Olivia began and Ivy whipped her head around. 'If you promise not to kill the messenger, I think I know who did it.'

'Speak!' she commanded.

Olivia drew her deeper backstage, among the dusty wardrobes filled with props, where most theatre hopefuls wouldn't dare tread.

Jackson and Sophia followed, out of earshot of the rest of the auditionees.

'Garrick Stevens,' Olivia explained. 'I'm pretty sure of it, actually. Garrick was lurking around five minutes ago and he was definitely up to something.'

'He did come over and ask for the number of my dentist, which seemed very odd,' Jackson said.

Olivia rolled her eyes. She wasn't going to explain it to Jackson, but vampires had to get their teeth filed regularly, and Garrick was always trying to find a dentist who would make him a set of false fangs.

Ivy took a closer look at the brown paper bag in her hand. There was a doodle in black felt tip. 'And it doesn't take a secret agent to figure out what that means.' She held the bag out so the others could look.

Olivia saw a tiny B with devil horns scrawled in black pen on the corner of the bag.

'The Beast left his calling card,' said Sophia.

'Garrick is so dead,' Ivy said. 'I don't know how yet, but I will have my revenge.'

Sophia grinned and tapped her headphones. 'If you need help, just call.'

'Alack, there lies more peril in mine eye than twenty swords!' Ivy declared.

Olivia's jaw dropped. 'How come you're spouting Shakespeare?'

'I'm the stage manager, which means I know the whole script back to front.' Ivy turned back to the auditionees. 'It also means I have less than sixty seconds to get you all out into the auditorium. Move it!'

Ivy had to abandon her socks and shoes, because they were covered in the powder, so she slipped into a pair of bright red clown shoes, with a look on her face that dared anyone to comment.

Everyone, including Olivia and Jackson, scurried to do her bidding. Olivia nearly sprinted through the wings, stage right, and down the side steps to plop into a seat in the third row. Jackson had gone straight through the gap in the main curtain and ended up on the opposite side of the auditorium. There was no way she could talk to him again before the auditions started.

Probably just as well, Olivia thought. She was nervous enough as it was, and having him nearby might completely distract her.

The back doors to the auditorium burst open and in strode Camilla, dressed in a black beret, dark sungla.s.ses and red braces holding up her camouflage trousers. She looked half French director, half army sergeant. She marched down the centre aisle to the edge of the stage. 'OK, people,' Camilla said to the crowd. 'Thank you for coming. Good luck to you all. You have one chance. There will not be callbacks.'

One of the guys behind Olivia muttered, 'She looks tough.' Olivia was proud of her friend. Usually Camilla had her nose buried in a science-fiction novel, but today she was taking charge.

'I am not your average director and this is not your average production of Romeo and Juliet,' she went on. 'We only have three weeks to pull it together, so I want pa.s.sion; I want originality I want that something special.' Camilla turned to the stage, settled in the front row, middle seat, took out a clipboard and barked, 'Who's first?'

Ivy was stage left and motioned for the first auditionee to come up on stage. It was Charlotte, smiling demurely, and looking every inch a Juliet in her period dress. It had a frilly-sleeved white top under an embroidered blue dress that flared out at the waist. Charlotte flashed Jackson a huge eyelash-fluttering smile.

Olivia squeezed her eyes shut, willing the spirit of Shakespeare to write a happy scene and not the tragedy of Charlotte getting to play Jackson's Juliet.

Chapter Three.

Ivy looked down at her clipboard. The first three auditions were complete and the next one, Toby Decker, wearing a full tuxedo, was taking his place to read a monologue for Mercutio, the second most important male part.

Her eye fell on a name near the bottom of her list: Garrick Stevens.

Her leg twitched and she had to scratch it, even though the irritation from half an hour ago had pretty much faded. She wondered if her legs would ever forget.

She had secured the little brown bag of evidence under the metal clip of her clipboard and was planning to show it to Camilla to get Garrick disqualified.

Unless ... Ivy thought, there's a better way to punish him ...

An idea started forming in her mind.

Olivia was in the wings, stage right, waiting for her turn and watching Camilla as she scribbled notes on the current auditionee. Her face was like a halfway line dead straight. Olivia didn't have any clue what she was thinking.

'Next!' called out Ivy and Olivia knew that meant her.

She stood up, adjusted her light-blue maxi dress and strode up on to the stage. She winked at her sister, who gave a little thumbs up back, and went to stand on her mark.

The stage lights were bright, so she couldn't see much of the auditorium. But that only helped her imagine the scene: standing on a balcony above an orchard filled with apple trees and sunshine, longing for the person she loved.

'I'm performing Juliet's monologue from Act Three, Scene Two,' she said, peering out into the spotlights. Then she forced her mind to clear and began: 'Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds, towards Phoebus' lodging ...'

Olivia had been determined not to let the old-sounding English intimidate her, and she spoke each line carefully and clearly.

'... Come, night; come, Romeo; come, thou day in night.'

She'd studied the pa.s.sage carefully to figure out what each line was trying to say and, now, all she had to do was think of Jackson to feel the romance of Shakespeare's poetry. It felt so natural that she could get lost in the words.

'Give me my Jackson; and, when he shall die ...'

She heard a couple of giggles and at least one snort from the audience.

Oh no! Olivia thought. I just said 'Jackson' instead of 'Romeo'!

She tried to stay in character. Oh no, oh no, this is bad don't blush. Don't blush!

Olivia was sure her face was at least a little rosy but she forced herself to deliver the rest of the monologue. The spotlights were sending out loads of heat and she could feel her body getting warmer and warmer, but she tried to blank that from her mind and concentrate on the rest of the monologue.