her."
Mavis nodded as if she shared his lack of information. As if she hadn't heard of him, either.
It was better that way.
The truth was, she did know about Jonah. She hadn't recognized him, because she hadn't seen him since he was a child, but she knew who he was. She knew about his parents, too.
How could she forget the people who had ruined her life?
"Why didn't I know about her?" said Jonah.
"There was a family split," said Stanza.
Mavis raised her eyebrows with mild interest...but on the inside, she was burning and churning.
Family split. That's one way to put it.
More like family abandonment.
"Wow." Jonah shrugged and smiled at Mavis. "Well, nice to meet you, cousin."
"Likewise," Mavis said with a smile of her own.
Be sure to thank your parents for screwing me over.
Years ago, when Mavis' mother and father had died, Jonah's parents could have taken her in and given her a home. They were her closest relations, her own aunt and uncle; there was no reason they should have turned her away.
But they had. Jonah's parents had refused to take her in, sentencing her to a succession of abusive, loveless, and/or just plain irresponsible foster parents.
Mavis had survived, no thanks to Jonah's parents. She'd gotten through the darkest times and made something of herself...but oh, the precious memories. Oh, the scars.
Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Ivory.
And now, the son of the very people who could have given her a good life but had chosen not to stood there in front of her.
It was enough to make Mavis redouble her determination to get away from Jonah and Stanza as soon as possible.
Mavis folded her hands behind her back and eased out of the pulpit. She still had her eye on that candlestick.
"Back to the vampires." Mavis thought, if she could keep Jonah and Stanza talking, that she might distract them from her hit-and-run escape plan. "You said they'll be here any minute now?"
"Yes," said Stanza.
Mavis stared thoughtfully at her. "And you know they're coming because...?"
"I have a sixth sense." Stanza tapped the side of her head. "About vampires. More like a seventh sense, I guess."
"You can feel them," said Mavis.
"Among other things." Stanza nodded. "Your only chance is to come with us."
"What about crosses?" As nonchalantly as she could, Mavis kept moving toward the candlestick. "Don't crosses drive them off? This place is full of crosses."
"Wives' tale," said Stanza.
"I have some holy water around," said Mavis. "That hurts them, doesn't it?"
"If you drown them in it, maybe." Stanza checked her watch. "We'd better get going."
Mavis stopped two steps from the candlestick and second-guessed her plan.
Since when am I a warrior princess? I haven't been in a fight since the third grade. And I've never been bulletproof at all, which won't do me any good if one of them has a gun.
Stymied by indecision, Mavis stalled for time. "I've got garlic downstairs in the kitchen. Vampires hate garlic, don't they?"
Stanza shrugged. "No more than anyone else."
"Okay, then." Mavis clapped her hands together. "Sunlight!"
"Their pupils are permanently dilated," said Stanza. "Any bright enough direct light source blinds them. Of course, sunglasses take the edge off."
Mavis gathered her courage and took the last steps over to the candlestick.
Count of three. Come on now.
She swallowed hard and pretended to straighten the candlestick. Her heart pounded, and blood rushed in her ears.
Wait a minute. Bloody candlestick, bodies in the nave, blood on my hands, police investigation. Front page headlines. Why do I have the feeling this might not go a long way toward me keeping my job?
Mavis let go of the candlestick.
"Look," she said. "Forget the vampires. What do you really want?"
Stanza stared at her, a smile nipping at the corners of her mouth. "You're so cute," she said. "It must be nice, being so totally naïve."
Mavis smiled and reached for the candlestick again.
"We need to go now," said Stanza. "Chop chop."
"Go
Mavis nodded as if she shared his lack of information. As if she hadn't heard of him, either.
It was better that way.
The truth was, she did know about Jonah. She hadn't recognized him, because she hadn't seen him since he was a child, but she knew who he was. She knew about his parents, too.
How could she forget the people who had ruined her life?
"Why didn't I know about her?" said Jonah.
"There was a family split," said Stanza.
Mavis raised her eyebrows with mild interest...but on the inside, she was burning and churning.
Family split. That's one way to put it.
More like family abandonment.
"Wow." Jonah shrugged and smiled at Mavis. "Well, nice to meet you, cousin."
"Likewise," Mavis said with a smile of her own.
Be sure to thank your parents for screwing me over.
Years ago, when Mavis' mother and father had died, Jonah's parents could have taken her in and given her a home. They were her closest relations, her own aunt and uncle; there was no reason they should have turned her away.
But they had. Jonah's parents had refused to take her in, sentencing her to a succession of abusive, loveless, and/or just plain irresponsible foster parents.
Mavis had survived, no thanks to Jonah's parents. She'd gotten through the darkest times and made something of herself...but oh, the precious memories. Oh, the scars.
Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Ivory.
And now, the son of the very people who could have given her a good life but had chosen not to stood there in front of her.
It was enough to make Mavis redouble her determination to get away from Jonah and Stanza as soon as possible.
Mavis folded her hands behind her back and eased out of the pulpit. She still had her eye on that candlestick.
"Back to the vampires." Mavis thought, if she could keep Jonah and Stanza talking, that she might distract them from her hit-and-run escape plan. "You said they'll be here any minute now?"
"Yes," said Stanza.
Mavis stared thoughtfully at her. "And you know they're coming because...?"
"I have a sixth sense." Stanza tapped the side of her head. "About vampires. More like a seventh sense, I guess."
"You can feel them," said Mavis.
"Among other things." Stanza nodded. "Your only chance is to come with us."
"What about crosses?" As nonchalantly as she could, Mavis kept moving toward the candlestick. "Don't crosses drive them off? This place is full of crosses."
"Wives' tale," said Stanza.
"I have some holy water around," said Mavis. "That hurts them, doesn't it?"
"If you drown them in it, maybe." Stanza checked her watch. "We'd better get going."
Mavis stopped two steps from the candlestick and second-guessed her plan.
Since when am I a warrior princess? I haven't been in a fight since the third grade. And I've never been bulletproof at all, which won't do me any good if one of them has a gun.
Stymied by indecision, Mavis stalled for time. "I've got garlic downstairs in the kitchen. Vampires hate garlic, don't they?"
Stanza shrugged. "No more than anyone else."
"Okay, then." Mavis clapped her hands together. "Sunlight!"
"Their pupils are permanently dilated," said Stanza. "Any bright enough direct light source blinds them. Of course, sunglasses take the edge off."
Mavis gathered her courage and took the last steps over to the candlestick.
Count of three. Come on now.
She swallowed hard and pretended to straighten the candlestick. Her heart pounded, and blood rushed in her ears.
Wait a minute. Bloody candlestick, bodies in the nave, blood on my hands, police investigation. Front page headlines. Why do I have the feeling this might not go a long way toward me keeping my job?
Mavis let go of the candlestick.
"Look," she said. "Forget the vampires. What do you really want?"
Stanza stared at her, a smile nipping at the corners of her mouth. "You're so cute," she said. "It must be nice, being so totally naïve."
Mavis smiled and reached for the candlestick again.
"We need to go now," said Stanza. "Chop chop."
"Go
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