Blood Threads: The Star Seamstress Book One

by Noella Royce

  "Sure, but we have no idea how useful that dress is. She could be a total dud." I touched the skirt of the dress and felt a little tingle shoot through me, and that hum and warm feeling increased.

  "Yeah, whatever; you can feel it too, I can tell. I'll be back down." She hustled away, leaving me having to face the Shifter-Witch Queen.

  She'd probably not be too pleased if I called her that. Thalia's being there intimidated me, but she apparently was powerful, and maybe she'd have that same quelling effect on the necromancers. Wishing I still had the dress—that warm glow had been pretty comforting—I went upstairs.

  There I found almost fifteen people, men and women of various ages wearing what looked like casual military getups, as well as Frank and Thalia. Hal was there as well, and somehow he'd shifted from stoner bro to ramrod straight, deadly-looking fighter in camo pants and a black shirt. Thalia wore a red shirt and black leather pants, a truly bad-ass looking combo. Frank was wearing jeans, a metal T-shirt and a leather jacket, and no longer holding himself like a milquetoast, aging Santa. Honestly, he looked fifteen years younger. He caught me staring and winked.

  "You've released a lot of magic, I see—I'm guessing that bundle of energy Kristen ran by with is your new outfit?" Thalia's gaze drifted to the ceiling, as if seeking out the dress.

  "You can tell?"

  She huffed. "I've already explained to you that I can feel your power—all of us witches can." Several of the people in the room nodded, which told me these weren't all shifters. Interesting. "You don't seem to be very good at listening, girl."

  "I'm so proud of you, Veda!" Frank rushed forward before I could respond to that little dig and swept me into a hug. "I'm so sorry I doubted you. Thalia had to set me straight about you being poisoned. And that dress! It radiates potential!"

  "Yes, and it's also a chaotic, scattered mess, and its signature is so loud the Ashers will know we're coming from a mile away. You don't have any idea what you're doing, and it shows," said Thalia with a sniff.

  "Whose fault was that?" I retorted. Frank coughed, and several of the others in the room looked scandalized at my disrespect.

  Her eyes flashed, but I was saved from whatever verbal hell she was going to unleash on me by a knock at the door. Hal looked through the window and snarled. "The vamps are here."

  Excellent, I wouldn't have to give a speech twice, which is good, because these people all frightened me. Well, except for Frank.

  Leslie, Solal, Peter and Lillian looked utterly skeptical of my half-cocked idea to sneak into the Asher's lair, which they all confirmed was underneath the police station. Leslie was the first to give me the benefit of the doubt. "That could possibly work, if we plan it correctly."

  "This is going to get us all killed," Solal said, although she didn't sound particularly bothered by the idea. "And you want us to work with the animals and hedge witches? They can barely magic themselves out of a paper bag."

  Thalia's eyes narrowed and her irises changed color and shape to something distinctly animalistic. Her group bristled, and I could feel the edge of incipient violence. "Fascinating, coming from a bloodsucker. You, who sit in your gilded towers with your little harems and sycophantic students, dare judge us?" She sniffed and crossed her arms. "Your daddy won't play with you, so what do you do? You go running back to your academic treehouses and refuse to leave. You are a spoiled, entitled, elderly children, all of you."

  The shifters and witches laughed and several of the vampires outright hissed. Peter's eyes were a bloody crimson red, and his hands had started to bundle into fists. Solal looked amused, and I wondered if she'd purposely provoked Thalia.

  Leslie stepped forward. "Look, this isn't helpful, and we need to stay focused on the issue at hand: how are we going to stop the Ash Order from pulling off whatever ridiculous plan they're working on? This has to be done, and Veda's plan is as good as any, since clearly they're brewing up a very powerful spell." The ground rumbled slightly as if to accentuate his point. "If they're successful they'll come after all of our clans first."

  Thalia took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and when she opened them again they were once again dark and human. "I agree. Do we have no idea what, exactly, it is that they're doing? Who's leading this charge? Metzger?"

  "No, their motivations are still unknown," Lillian said, "but they are obviously underground, most likely under the police station, and their efforts are accelerating. The ley lines in town are going crazy, and magic is either too powerful or sputtering out."

  "It's not that fool Metzger at the forefront," Peter said with a sneer. "He's a vulgarian and a violent prick, not a scheming overlord. Someone with far more creativity is running this show, but with their obsession with seniority, it must be one of their warlocks. Yet none of their current senior mages has shown this sort of ambition before, and by all reports, none of them are in town."

  "What do they need the boys for?" a dark-skinned woman with bright red hair asked quietly.

  "Life is power, as you well know, and every type of life offers a different type of energy," said Leslie. "Young, masculine power has a particular flavor to it, and can fuel a great deal of destruction. They are probably functioning as batteries for their spells."

  I shuddered at that. "Will they kill them?" the woman asked.

  "Most likely, but this all just speculation."

  "By the time we figure it out, it'll probably be too late to save them or Maywen," Frank noted quietly. "Time is running out."

  "Then we attack!" This was me, in a too enthusiastic tone, and the whole group turned and stared, as if they'd forgotten I was there. "Right?"

  Thalia chuckled, and her followers relaxed. I wondered if she used her moods and glare to control people, and squirreled that thought away for future use. "Yes, seamstress, we attack. Let us strategize."

  This is how I ended up in the middle of the night in a turquoise, silver embroidered evening gown a block away from the police station, surrounded by vampires, shifters, witches, and at least one shifter-witch checking their weapons and discussing specific fighting techniques.

  What the hell had I gotten myself into?

  "So what happens if you don't come out?" Kristen asked in a small voice, her arms around Hal's waist. I wonder if that meant they were official now.

  "You leave town, babe, and don't look back." I tried not to snicker at the very actively macho edge to his voice, like he was some sort of action movie hero.

  That made me think of the very-not-young vampire I'd left hours before, not that he'd been far from my mind the whole time. What was he doing? What was he thinking? Did he wish he could join us? Maybe Adin wanted the necromancers to win. The thought chilled me, but it made sense. He was isolated, unable to take action and help his former friends, and other than teaching, some random paranormal blood sports, and messing around with human women, he had little purpose to his life.

  All that might've been okay for a normal human and our limited lifespans, but for someone who'd been alive for hundreds of years? Seemed pretty boring to me.

  "You look beautiful," an accented voice said next to me. I turned to smile at Leslie, who had just been talking quietly and intimately to Amari.

  "Thanks." I reached down and tugged at my skirt. "This feels really weird, since I know I'm going into a fight." It really was a beautiful dress, the turquoise satin glimmering in the light of the electric torches we'd set up on the lawn of the empty house we were standing in front of. My arms were bare, and Kristen had insisted I take some costume jewelry of hers—a square cut paste diamond necklace set in silver and two thick silver bracelets—to complete the look.

  This matched perfectly with her embroidery, a complex silver thread at the top of the bodice and the hem of the skirt. I'd gasped when she'd brought the dress downstairs and asked how she'd completed it so quickly, and she'd winked. "I told you I had little bit of magic myself. Oh, and an eight-thousand-dollar embroidery and sewing machine that is the primary reason I still live
at home with my parents."

  Putting the dress on had been a powerful experience, as the second it touched my skin I felt different, as if my body had been lifted off the ground and was floating, swaddled in power and light. That hum became almost a choir, and the fear scrabbling at the back of my brain, the questions and insecurity, were deeply muted.

  I felt powerful and awash in energy, and ready to fight. My body practically twitched with the need for movement, and, to be honest, violence. Violence? That wasn't exactly standard for me.

  Wow, dress, you look like you're up for a night of dancing, and what you really want is blood.

  The answer I received wasn't in words, as it would be from the river, but instead just as a pulse of understanding: I serve the purpose to which I was made.

  At some point I would need to test the limits of the sentience I gave my creations, because it was damn unsettling, but also rather cool.

  That was if we made it out alive, of course.

  My hair was pinned up in a quick but elegant-looking updo, and I'd admired myself in Kristen's mirror before we'd left her house. Another point for my magic—the ability to create a perfect fit without tons of measuring and tweaking.

  The final touch was a pair of sneakers stolen from her mom, who I really hoped would accept money and lots of apologies for all these things of hers I was running away with.

  "You gonna be okay?" Amari asked.

  I shook off my musings, pulled myself back to the now and smiled at Amari. "I'm a former cosplayer and personal assistant with no fighting skills to speak of, wearing a ball gown for a battle with a bunch of powerful mages who specialize in raising the undead. I'm not even sure I remember our plan."

  He laughed. "Hopefully you can leave the fighting to everyone else, and just make your magic dress do cool things." Easy for him to say – I still wasn't completely sure how to do that, although I'd bluffed past that little issue during the meeting at Kristen's house. "But if you do die, any regrets?"

  That was easy. "Not sleeping with the hot vampire."

  "Mmmm, that's a good one. If you get a chance, I do recommend it. They're pretty... dexterous." He grinned at Leslie, who laughed.

  "Are we going?" Thalia asked impatiently.

  "Yes," Leslie said, and his eyes flipped to red. He kissed Amari one more time and turned to talk to his vampires.

  Frank came up and gave me another hug. "Thank you, Veda." He released me with a sad smile. "This isn't your fight nor your town, but you're helping us anyways. Maywen doesn't deserve you."

  "Well, it's got me. And the dress will keep me safe, right?"

  "Yes, and hopefully more. If you can pull this off, you'll save us all." His voice had that awed tone again. "You are like a beacon of magic, a lighthouse to us all. Truly, you are a Star Seamstress, born to be a master."

  "Can we do anything about that name?" I wrinkled my nose. "It really is a bit silly. Makes me sound like I won some sort of c-grade reality show. You know, the type you find on channels you've never heard of and only watch hungover on a Sunday morning."

  "No." This was Thalia, glaring at us both. "As to the point of you being a lighthouse, this is exactly why we need to get this show on the road. They might be distracted with whatever dastardly plans they're implementing, but your magic is loud and cries out to all sensitive individuals like a toddler, and we must move quickly before they become aware of your presence."

  I was a bit insulted at that, but I was new; now wasn't the time to be proud.

  We began to move, approaching the police station from the back and hiding in a cluster of trees. We passed a few college students who took one look at the outfits, grim expressions and glowing red eyes of the squad and went running across the street.

  The police station appeared to still have power, as evinced by the glow from several windows and the surveillance cameras trained around the building, and Hal told me they probably had generators.

  There were a lot of people gathered outside the police station, and I saw my favorite bitchy officer, the caustic Officer Ortell, talking to them with an annoyed expression. Being a power outage, a lot of people must have had questions and concerns, and they'd left her to deal with it. I figured that meant she wasn't any sort of necromancer.

  I heard muttering behind me and felt a surge of power, manifested in a pale yellow light that exploded around each of the security cameras. Now I could see magic as well? That was a handy trick.

  "The cameras are disabled," the witch behind me whispered.

  We ran—me almost tripping over my dress—and found ourselves at a huge metal door facing the river. The witches stripped it of its magic, and Hal growled and ripped it off its hinges.

  I'm doing it! I thought at the water triumphantly. I mean, sure, not that I'd done anything myself yet. But I was part of this crazy team and I was going to help Maywen, Sun Ji, and Kyle, damn it.

  The river muttered at me, something I couldn't hear, and I felt disquiet, and what was like a faint cry of pain at the back of my mind. Was something wrong? Was the river reacting to the attack on Maywen?

  "Move, Seamstress!" someone hissed in my ear, and I was being hustled down some stone steps. Now I was beginning to see the problem with being utterly untrained in physical matters on a mission. This was really hard, this dashing and sneaking around, and the rough-hewn style of the steps and the dress were not making it easier.

  Maybe I should have made a three-piece suit instead. At least then I'd have pants.

  The vampires had known the layout of what they said were 'extensive caverns' under the police station, and thus Leslie and Lillian led the charge.

  As we went deeper, I smelled a mix of damp rocks and earth, and a slight whiff of spicy incense. Soon we were in utter darkness, and I stumbled into the young woman with curly red hair, a witch named Jasmine, in front of me. She stopped and swore in surprise.

  "I can't see," I said apologetically.

  "Oh, yes, you haven't been enspelled. Take this," she said with amusement, and handed me her flashlight.

  We came out into a large, cavernous room that was covered from floor to ceiling in a rich, black marble, with no other doors and complex designs I didn't recognize in red stone throughout. The symbol with a key and sword crossed over a red background was prominently displayed, and I understood now that was the Ash Order's crest. There were massive sconces with large flames near the ceiling; they were so high up they must've been either electronically or magically lit. Against the walls were bookcases, statues, and odd items such as a globe and what appeared to be a giant computer screen.

  "This must be their ritual gathering room," Jasmine said.

  "Only for the more basic shit that they do with their entry-level newbies, the ones who are easily impressed by lots of black and red and pretty toys," said Solal dismissively. "They do their truly shady stuff further below, with less pomp and more blood."

  This was the room in so many of my dreams, where the hooded people were. Adin must have been right. My dreams were visions. My skin felt itchy just being in that space, and I couldn't wait to leave.

  "Remember," Thalia said, cutting off Jasmine, who looked embarrassed and about to snap back at the vampire, "we go down once we find them, and we begin moving the second we do."

  "There are no guards here. That's rare, and not a great sign," said Frank. "They must all be busy."

  The ground shook. "I so look forward to ripping their throats out and tasting the blood of these arrogant fools," Peter snarled. "They are so very tiresome."

  "Yeah, all the bullshit involved with their spellcasting was exhausting and stupidly tedious." Solal rolled her eyes. "I don't miss any of it."

  "Why would you miss—" I got shushed. Somehow, despite the fact I was in charge of taking down the leader, I wasn't being taken very seriously. I'd demand more respect, but it felt like the time had passed for that.

  Down god knows how many more stairs we went, and I noticed I was quite cold. My fear started to bub
ble up, telling me that yes, I really was setting myself up to die. Was I really okay with it? Why the hell was I in a ball gown with unknown magic powers, with a bunch of supernaturals, to fight a gang of death mages?

  A purring started in my mind, something soothing and in a sweet tone, and my body warmed up. I almost laughed.

  Thanks, dress.

  "We're here," Leslie whispered as he stood before a door at the bottom of the steps. The walls were raw rock, and the ceiling went on forever. I'd never thought of myself as claustrophobic, but I had a definite vision of being trapped down here.

  The flashlights turned off. "Be prepared. They'll hit us with everything they've got, and we have to be ready. Defensive spells should be go." The witches and several of the vampires started to mutter in that odd language I'd heard from the attacking necromancer in my bedroom, and vampire eyes glowed red. My heart began to pound and the purring of my dress got louder. I remembered my cats growing up and how they'd often purr when they were upset. Maybe sentient gowns were the same way?

  Leslie began chanting as well—were all the vampires mages?—and threw open the door.

  We ran in, with me coming up in the back as planned, and there was a flash as a witch threw up her hands and bathed us all in light. Momentarily blinded, I stumbled and ran straight into Hal's tall back.

  "What the fuck?" he muttered. Surprised, he was just standing still. I peeked around him.

  We were in a massive cavern, surrounded by dark gray rocks; the space stretched so far I couldn't see to the ends. Directly in front of us was a huge clear glass wall, behind which was sloshing, churning water, moved by some large machinery within. The whole effect was like being in a massive aquarium during the apocalypse.

  There were symbols in red paint on the glass, the ground, and the walls I could see, and the center area was lit by large standing lights. Beyond them was nothing but darkness.