Bloodliner

Chapter 5

Chapter 5Mavis Kirkellan stood in the church pulpit and shook out her long, red hair, letting the gleaming, crimped locks fall around her shoulders.

She cleared her throat and straightened her white button-down linen blouse. She smoothed her tan slacks over her slender hips.

Then, she patted the four-leaf clover taped to the underside of the podium. She rubbed the rabbit's foot that lay on the ledge on the other side.

A minister using good luck charms...in the pulpit, no less. This is so wrong.

Mavis' father, who'd been pastor before her, had put them there. He'd used them to get him through every church service until he died.

And now Mavis would end up using them to get through a service on Sunday...her first official solo service as pastor of her father's church.

It wasn't a big church by any stretch. In fact, the congregation of Desert Wind Christian in Tucson, Arizona topped out at sixty-three on most Sundays.

But Desert Wind Christian had been her father's church. After his death a month ago, Mavis had stepped in by the terms of his will to take over Desert Wind.

She was only nineteen years old, with zero formal religious education and even less religious calling—and she had to take over for her father.

How is that even possible?

She'd never been able to do much right for her daddy before. Why he hadn't left his congregation to someone else was a mystery to her.

Unless he was trying to force me to measure up.

That was one theory. For as long as Mavis could remember, her father had been pushing her to develop an interest in the church—an interest in anything. The truth was, since her mother's death, Mavis just hadn't cared much about applying herself. Why bother, when life can end so fast and without meaning?

So Mavis had become a ball of bad attitude, getting into trouble again and again, not caring about school. She'd barely graduated and hadn't even considered going to college—all in spite of her father's nagging and constant attempts to straighten her out.

So why was she in his pulpit now? Why was she even making an effort?

I don't want to be here! I can't even do this!

Mavis shut her eyes and flung up her hands. She took deep breaths, trying to steady her out-of-control nerves.

Why am I doing this?

Slowly, she lowered her hands and opened her eyes. She pictured the congregation fanned out in the pews in front of her...all sixty-three members, with a few curiosity-seekers thrown in for good measure.

They didn't look happy. In fact, they looked downright hostile.

Her heart pounded. She fiddled with the good luck charms and shuffled papers on the podium.

She stopped and read one of them—a list of public speaking tips from her father.

Picture family members and friends in the audience.

Great idea, she thought. Just one problem: she had no family members or friends to picture.

Her father was dead, and her mother had died long ago, when Mavis was just twelve years old. She had no brothers or sisters. Other relations were out there somewhere, but she'd hardly known them.

Maybe the next tip on the list would be more practical.

Picture your audience naked.

Mavis tried it, but it didn't work out so well. With or without clothes, her imaginary audience glared at her with the same hostility.

The front row had big red letters painted on their chests, spelling out, "LOSER."

"Even my own figments hate me," said Mavis, and then she dropped her head to the podium. Her long hair fell around her in a shroud of red.

I'm just not cut out for this line of work.

"I have to try."

Why? To make up for treating your dad like a jerk? To prove you measure up?

To find out if you're good for something after all?

Tears burned Mavis' eyes. "How do I know what to do?"

You're in church, right? What do people do in church?

They pray.

Still white-knuckling the pulpit railing, Mavis bowed her head. "Sure. Why not?" She hadn't prayed since before her mother died. "Um, okay. Send me a sign, God. Tell me what to do."

Nothing. No answer.

The church was silent except for her breathing. It was about what she'd expected, but still...a direct answer would have been nice.

Keep trying.

"Come on, God. Just a little sign?"

It was just then that the heavy oak door in the rear of the church swung open.

Hot desert air swelled the room. Mavis' head leaped up, and her eyes flew straight to the two figures in the doorway.

One was a woman with long, black hair and dark horn-rimmed glasses. She wore a red leather jacket over a short, black dress.

The other was a scrawny young man in a black Jethro Tull t-shirt and bluejeans. He must have dyed his shoulder-length hair, because he didn't look anywhere near old enough for it to have gotten pure white like that naturally.

They look like they just came from a nightclub.

"Hello, Pastor." The woman closed the door behind the young man. She had a slight Italian accent. "My name is Stanza Miracolo."

"Yes?" Mavis frowned, instantly suspicious. It was after eleven-thirty on a weeknight—not usually a big time for drop-ins with good intentions.

Can't believe I didn't lock that door.

There was no one else in the building, so she was outnumbered two to one. If her guests had trouble in mind, Mavis wasn't crazy about her chances.

Stanza took a few steps down the aisle, then stopped. "Look, Mavis," she said. "Don't mean to freak you out, but I have to move things along here."

Mavis was surprised when Stanza used her name...but then she remembered it was on the marquee outside. "Okay," she said, glancing around the church as casually as she could.

What if they have a partner?

"Thing is, your life's about to change," said Stanza.

"Really?" Mavis continued looking around, wondering what nearby objects she could use as weapons. "How's that?"

"For one thing," said Stanza, "you're about to meet family you might not have known about until now."

Stanza turned and swept an arm toward the young man at the door. "Meet Jonah Ivory," she said. "Your cousin."

"What?" Mavis stopped looking for weapons and locked eyes with Jonah.

"What?" Jonah looked surprised.

"Now we've got to get out of here fast," said Stanza. "A pack of vampires will be here any minute now."