Blood Threads: The Star Seamstress Book One Read online

  I could have cried at that, but instead just smiled. "Thank you, you're a good person too."

  She laughed and then sniffled, and I wrapped her up in a big hug.

  9

  After bundling Breanna into her bed I stumbled to my own. Falling asleep took hours, as vampires and kidnapped young men haunted my thoughts.

  Sleep offered little relief. I had another night of ridiculous dreams, although the sexy times with Adin were replaced by more hooded figures and the screams of kidnapped young men. At one point, I caught sight of Kyle, sitting blank-faced next to Shawn. When I tried to get their attention, they ignored me, simply staring off into space like dolls, waiting for someone to play with them.

  Then the figures were around me, chanting, and I woke up shortly thereafter in a sweat.

  Man, I'd much rather have visions of sexing up Adin than that; he might be a jerk, but at least he was a hot one.

  After showering and getting ready for work, I checked on Breanna and saw her door was still closed. She seemed exhausted yesterday, understandably, and I didn't want to wake her up. I'd check in with her later.

  God, I couldn't even imagine having my boyfriend kidnapped by shadowy weirdos; what an insanely traumatizing experience. Maywen was like a funhouse without the fun.

  Looking at my phone as I ate a quick breakfast, I saw that Sun Ji had texted me about the cosplay meeting, and it was happening that night.

  Oh shit. I'd forgotten about that little promise. Did I really want to deal with a bunch of questions about costuming, cosplay, and the LA scene when I had nothing to show them and no answers for when they asked me what I'd be doing next?

  But I'd made Sun Ji a promise, and the truth was I could make it. I had no plans, and I'd hate for him to think I was just a promise-breaking bitch.

  And hell, how could distraction from my ridiculous life be a bad thing?

  Screw it, I could handle a few questions. He told me it was starting at seven and was clearly very excited that I'd be there. Grabbing my skirt, which I'd washed after Breanna had gone to bed, I left the apartment for work with dread in my heart. I wasn't sure I was ready for Amari or Frank and whatever fucked-up reality they had for me. The weather was miserable and rainy, which certainly didn't help my mood.

  "Veda!" Amari said in relief, rushing forward as I entered the store at exactly 10 a.m. "Are you okay?" Frank was behind the register, expression concerned. Kristen was doing inventory, and probably also avoiding the conversation I was about to have. "I'm so glad you decided to return. We were genuinely worried you'd simply leave."

  I narrowed my eyes and pursed my lips. Oh no, buddy, your sweet older man act isn't getting you out of this one. "Of course I came; how the hell else was I going to get an explanation for what the hell is going on around here? Also," I swung my gaze to Amari, "I'd like to know if you're dating a vampire of your own free will or if Leslie has you in his thrall."

  "Fuck." Amari put a hand to his forehead. "You did see us. I'm so sorry, Veda. Damn. Yes, Leslie's a vampire, but no, I'm not under some sort of spell or thrall or anything. Leslie's a good one, I promise."

  I lifted an eyebrow at that. "Really? What makes a 'good' vampire?"

  Frank answered my question before Amari could speak. "One who doesn't misuse his power for ill, or drink blood without conscious consent. They also help keep the many forces balanced in this town, and without them, I doubt there still would be a Maywen University."

  Clearly being a monster was normalized around here. "So is a good vampire like Leslie different than, say, a bad vampire like Adin? Don't they both work at the college?"

  There was more glance-exchanging, something I'd really hoped we'd overcome. "Adin is a... complicated figure in Maywen. He works at the university because they're too scared to fire him, but not many people are particularly comfortable with his presence."

  "What the hell does that mean?" Kristen came up and put the iPad we used for inventory on the table. Judging by her expression, her desire to hear our conversation beat out her conflict-avoidance tendencies.

  "Come, come," Frank said soothingly and had me sit in a chair he kept near the register. "I don't want to overwhelm you, so our plan was to break the news to you gently. Over time, all will be made clear."

  "But I thought we didn't have much time," said Kristen with a puzzled look. "What with the earthquakes and all that."

  Frank shushed her. "The truth of the matter is, Veda, we do have vampires in town, and they are quite influential in the academic community here."

  "So they don't turn to ashy bits in sunlight, like in the movies?" I'd witnessed this for myself with both Leslie and Adin, but I needed confirmation of what that meant. "So they're not sensitive to light and fire at all?"

  "Oh, they are," Amari said, "but mostly in the sense that it dulls their power. Vampires are not even half as powerful during the day than they are at night. While they're certainly more deadly than your average human during the day, at night they are extremely dangerous, with capabilities far beyond those of us mere mortals."

  "Okay." I thought about how Adin moved very differently during the day than he did at night and shuddered. "So are vampires the most powerful people in town?"

  "They have the most influence at the university, while the municipality itself is largely run by other factions," Frank corrected. "But the college is where most of them live and are employed."

  "That's comforting," I murmured. "Do they put that in their marketing brochures? 'Maywen University: where our professors are vampires and our students are snacks!'"

  Kristen giggled. "That'd be awesome."

  "Okay, so if vampires are more powerful in the university, who runs the town?"

  "The necromancers," Frank said, and winced when I glared at him in shock.

  "Necromancers? Necromancers? Aren't those, like, the people who raise the dead or some shit like that?"

  "Very good, yes, that's exactly it. The necromancers and vampires in this town have a tangled and complicated history, and to understand anything here, you have to embrace that mentality." He looked at me expectantly. "Does that make sense?"

  "No. No, it does not. So you're saying," I put my hands in front of me, trying to wrap my mind around this new, ridiculous information, "that there aren't only vampires here, there are necromancers. They are both very powerful, and they do not like each other. Is that correct?"

  "Roughly, yes."

  "Great. Who are the necromancers in town? I'm guessing I need to watch out for them?"

  "I hope to keep you away from their scrutiny all together, although I'm not sure that's possible." Frank looked down at his hands. "We also can't be sure who's a necromancer and who's simply one of their allies."

  "Are they the ones running around in hoods and kidnapping kids?" If so, then these necromancers were already on my shit list. I thought of Breanna's tears and Kyle's sweet smile and my heart constricted.

  Frank sighed. "I didn't think so at first, since the Ash Order—as they are known—are such a pillar of this town, and we didn't think they'd put Maywen at risk by repeatedly engaging in activities that could bring serious attention to us from the national news. Unfortunately, due to the sighting of hooded figures at the kidnapping sites, they've become the most likely suspects." He held up his hands. "But we're still not sure! If we accuse them unduly, it could start a war, and that's the last thing we want."

  "That's so comforting. So sexy vampires and people-snatching necromancers? Is that it?" I needed a drink, perhaps three, to understand all this.

  "Don't forget the shifters!" said Kristen brightly, and Amari glared at her while Frank sighed. It appeared I wasn't necessarily supposed to learn about the shifters, which made me even more curious.

  "What's a shifter?" I asked. "Like... a shapeshifter?"

  She nodded. "Yes, exactly. There are a few different types of shifters, although, per usual, the wolves rule the roost."

  "Oh. Okay." My mind had gone blank in shock again, a
nd I was basically asking questions just to fill the screaming void that was my brain. Either all of my coworkers were clinically insane in the same way I was, or Maywen was legitimately some sort of paranormal melting pot of doom.

  Fucking hell.

  "You said the vampires run the college and the necromancers the town. Where do the shifters fit in?"

  "Oh, they're everywhere, but they hang out a lot with the witches and mages!" Kristen's eyes lit up. "I'm studying to be a witch, you know."

  I had to laugh helplessly. No wonder her friends last night had seemed downright feral—they probably were. "Good for you. But why are the witches and such hanging out with the werewolves? Is that normal?"

  Frank coughed, interrupting Kristen's answer. I needed to talk to him about how he treated her sometimes. "That's a topic for another time, ladies. I think, Veda, it's time we talk about you, and why you're unusual."

  "Me?" I stared at him. "There's nothing interesting or supernatural about me. I'm just some chick who moved here from California and has found herself in the middle of some sort of disturbing mass delusion where you think there's a bunch of Twilight and Teen Wolf characters running around. I've got nothing to do with any of this." Sure, I blacked out and made clothing in a fugue state, and had weirdly intense dreams, but that didn't mean anything, right?

  Man, I hoped that didn't mean anything.

  "No, you were summoned because of your potential. I'm still not sure how your talent was discovered, or who sent you to us, but I'm sure that'll become clear eventually. The point is, you are special." He stood up straighter and took my hands in his. Amari and Kristen's expressions were oddly awed, and everything about Frank's sudden intensity made me extremely nervous.

  "Um, okay." My eyes darted to the door. Could I pull away and make it outside before they could catch me? I wasn't very fast, as the night before demonstrated, but avoiding paranormal cult conscription was pretty good motivation.

  "You, Veda Geroux, are a Star Seamstress." His voice was solemn, as if he'd just said something quite serious and grave.

  Somehow, that made the silly words he'd just spoken even goofier. "Like, I'm a famous seamstress?" I was puzzled. "A social media sewing star? Because I'm not, unless something weird's happened on the internet over the past couple of weeks that no one's told me about." Then a terrifying thought hit me. "Oh no. Did you read something in the tabloids?" Had my former boss finally decided to turn to the press to tell her part of the story? Was my name about to be synonymous with 'the other woman'?

  Oh god, if that was the case, my life was officially over. Maybe I could move to a small country on the other side of the world that wouldn't care that some famous actress thought I had fucked her husband and—

  Frank looked alarmed at my expression. "No! No, it has nothing to with the press or any famous people or anything at all like that. I don't mean star as in celebrity; I mean literal stars, as in from the heavens. You have powers, Veda, powers that could help us save the town of Maywen from itself."

  At this point, he was basically speaking a foreign language. "Does this involve saving it from the vampires, necromancers, werewolves, and witches?"

  "Yes, of course, although only the vampires and the necromancers are a threat to the town. The others simply want to live their lives and be left alone."

  Kristen looked puzzled. "But, Frank, what about the time the werewolves had that whole inner-pack-war thing and they ripped the—"

  Frank waved her words off, expression tight. "Yes, yes, they're not perfect, no species or breed is, but the important thing is they're peaceful now, and they want to keep it that way."

  I exchanged a glance with Kristen and I hoped she saw that I wanted her to tell me more about this werewolf pack-war and what, exactly, they were ripping.

  "Veda." Frank's voice was ringing now, and I blinked at how he made my name sound so portentous. I'd always thought it made me sound like the Indian grandmother I got it from. "I'll explain about the Star Seamstress. You are the latest in a long, glorious line of men and women whose talents allow them to change the course of fate. They—

  My boss was talking about how the Star Seamstresses had a long and storied history, one he himself wasn't fully aware of but their legacy had left an indelible mark that few were aware of and how it was my duty to take up the mantle. I interrupted him impatiently. "I appreciate you telling me I'm important, Frank, I really do, but none of that makes any sense to me until I understand what it entails. What the hell can I do as this super-special "Star Seamstress" person?"

  "Well, you make clothes." He deflated a bit.

  "I... make clothes? Frank, I can do that already. Millions of people can make clothes. That's not very unique."

  He took a deep breath, eyebrows furrowed. "Yes, of course, but the key difference is only Star Seamstresses can make magic clothes."

  "Magic... clothes?" So my skirt really was something special.

  He nodded, pleased I seemed to understand. "Yes, exactly! You were born with a natural talent for the creation of magical clothes."

  "What type of magic?"

  "All sorts!" his eyes brightened. "Every Star Tailor or Seamstress has a different array of skills, so it's hard to say where you'll excel. But if you're the one we've been waiting for, that means you should be quite powerful, indeed."

  "But I've been sewing for years and have not once created something that I'd consider 'magical' before this week. Awesome and beautiful, sure, but magic? No."

  "For whatever reason, the chosen few are drawn to Maywen and they have to be in town to awaken their gifts." Looking around, he cleared his throat and leaned in. "This needs to stay between us three," he whispered, "but I can offer you some basic verbal instruction in the art, and—"

  The door slammed open. "FRANK!" A ringing female voice swept over us, and we all looked up to see Thalia standing in the entrance to the store, wearing a long red dress and her expression full of rage. She looked like an avenging goddess, and I swear I felt a cold wind whistle. "You oathbreaker!"

  Frank sighed, closed his eyes for a moment as if gathering strength, and turned to face her, expression set. "Perhaps I am. But she must be prepared for the coming conflict; you must understand this, Thalia. I love you, but I will do what I must to protect Maywen."

  "My people will protect Maywen; you know this." She thumped a fist to her chest, and I was surprised to see her expression was now more hurt than angry. "Don't you believe I'm capable of keeping us safe?"

  "I know you are, and you've done an amazing job, love. But you know your powers, and those of your followers, isn't effective against our foes. Only the Star Seamstresses have effectively battled the Ashers and the vampires, and if your portends speak true, we will need her power very soon."

  "Effective?" Thalia scoffed and crossed her arms. "Yes, they get a few blows in, but inevitably they fall, or, worst of all, become their allies. My predecessors killed hers to keep them out of the hands of those deathmongers."

  "She may be different." May be? That wasn't what I'd call a clear vote of confidence. "She could turn the tide of what's coming, and we can once again enter a time of peace—"

  Thalia shook her head, expression full of annoyance. "These are topics neither she nor your employees need to hear. We should continue this in my office."

  "Agreed."

  Thalia swept out and Frank turned to me, putting a hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry, Veda. We'll continue this conversation soon, after I make her understand how important you'll be to our cause."

  He ran out the door and I was left with a silent Kristen and Amari, both of whom looked very uncomfortable.

  "You guys wouldn't be able to answer any questions about this whole magic sewing stuff, would you?"

  Kristen chewed her lip. "I know a bit because Frank is teaching me a couple of things, but I'm better at embroidery than sewing. He made us swear oaths too, though. He doesn't want you to start out with all the wrong information." She brightened. "We can help
a little bit with the other stuff! Amari knows a lot of about vampires because of Leslie, and I've got tons of info on the witches and the mages."

  Amari shook his head. "I don't think he'd appreciate you talking about that either, Kris. He wants to ease her in gently. You're already kinda freaked out," he said to me, "and I don't blame you at all. This is all crazy to people not from here. But it would mean a lot to all of us if you gave it a chance and at least listened to Frank. Please."

  "Okay." I paused, trying to collect my thoughts, and failing. They were only telling me pieces of the story—small, unclear ones.

  I had a theory about where I could find out more. "Hey, do you guys mind if I take a walk, clear my head?"

  Amari narrowed his eyes. "Are you coming back?"

  "Yeah, Frank will be really disappointed in us if we let you run away," said Kristen.

  I sighed. "Yes, I will be coming back, because I don't have anywhere else to go. From what you're telling me, all of Maywen is a terrifying mess of supernatural confusion, and I'm just as likely to get myself killed as I am to actually escape." I might still try, but they didn't need to know that.

  "Sounds about right!" Kristen sounded downright proud of the fact, and I resisted the urge to shake my head. Maywen seemed to be an actual physical manifestation of the human capacity to normalize anything.

  "I'll return shortly," I promised, and didn't add the note that was unless I got eaten by a pissy, sexy vampire who might be very angry I was trying to hunt him down.

  Finding Professor Adin took less time than I thought it would. The Classics building, and its soaring pillars, was prominently marked on the campus map, so I knew where I was going after twenty seconds of Googling.

  After stopping by the central administrative office, a coordinator told me Doctor Nieren was in the middle of his introductory Roman Empire class.

  Passing by messy offices and smaller classrooms, I returned to the first floor and the main lecture hall.

  Hearing a familiar voice booming out of the auditorium, I slipped in a side door. There were a few spots left, and I settled next to a young student who gave me a sharp look. She could tell I was an interloper.