Threads

Chapter Eighteen: Part 3

She stared narrowly at Ambrose’s usual followers who had collected behind him like scummy seaweed washed in on the tide. Allira was in her usual position at the front of the pack, casting furious glances at Alice.  Behind her, stood the Vampire Ambrose had sent away to collect Maya. Alice struggled to remember his name and could not. 

“Alexie,” she said, smiling, “Charming dinner party so far.”

            “Thank you. I do hope you and your friends will help yourselves to dessert. “

            “I’m sure we will.  It all looks wonderful.”

            Ambrose switched his attention back to Maya suddenly. “And how are you settling in at your new home?” he purred.  The question was not a polite enquiry, and the girl flinched under his probing gaze, her voice barely coming out above a whisper.

            “Pardon, dear? You’ll have to speak up.” He loomed closer, and Alice could see Maya was struggling not to turn and flee from the room. He’s intimidating her on purpose, the bastard.

            “Dear Alexie,” Alice intervened, her voice laden with honey, “I do appreciate Maya, she is such a help around the shop.” She deliberately moved in between him and the girl, taking his arm and steering him in the opposite direction.

            “Come, let’s get some wine.”

            Ambrose smiled at her as they strolled to the wine table, showing her his gleaming white teeth - a predator’s smile, the last thing you would see before the darkness claimed you. It made her terribly nervous, hauling him along by his arm, but she was determined to keep his attention off Maya. Judging by the wide grin he was wearing, he didn’t object to the manhandling.

            “I’ve heard some juicy gossip about you lately,” he told her.

            “Do tell.” They reached the table, and Alice picked up a glass and held it out for the servant who was pouring the bottles.

            “I heard an interesting story…” Ambrose took a glass as well. “That you and I are “involved”. Tell me it’s true.” His eyes shone mischievously.

            “Isn’t that ridiculous?” Alice laughed, watching the waterfall of dark red liquid as it was poured into her glass. She nodded appreciatively at the servant and turned to Ambrose. “I can’t believe the rubbish they make up to sell a few magazines!”

            “Oh, I don’t know…” Ambrose swirled his wine, eyeing her over the top of his glass seductively. “I’m not sure it’s all that farfetched.” He reached out boldly, stroking a finger down her forearm, leaving a trial of goose bumps. “The things we could do, Alice.” His thumb traced over her palm, making her shiver.

            Alice took a sip of her wine, struggling to keep her cool. She could feel herself flushing in confused anger. She fingered the heart charm, noticing it was slightly darker again. She wouldn’t let it go black.  “You’re awfully sure of yourself, aren’t you?  You ought to watch yourself…” She stopped talking, aware of the delighted look he was giving her. “What?”

            “”Will you slap me for getting fresh? I heard you threw Altair Roth across a room for it.” He threw back his head and laughed. Altair gave them both a dark look.

            Ambrose smiled devilishly at her. “You entertain me. I would love to see you in a fine temper. Your magic must be something to witness! Do something for me, Alice.”

            “What?” She tried to keep the trepidation out of her tone.

            “Do a spell, something outrageous! Right here in front of me. I want to see you work magic.” His eyes glowed, daring her, reminding her she owed him.

            Alice tried to keep her nerves in check. The idea of doing any sort of larger spell had her frightened. What was she supposed to do? And what if she accidently touched too much magic? She glanced around at the ballroom. There had to be ten times more magic here then at the shop, the idea of touching all of it was terrifying.

“What do you want me to do?” Alice tried to keep her voice steady. Perhaps he could be talked out of it. “Look, all your guests are around us, I don’t want to alarm anybody.”

            “Alarm anyone?” Ambrose laughed. “We are beyond the times of Witch burning. Nobody will think anything of it.” He put his emphasis on the word Witch, and Alice stared at him, unsure if it was a deliberate slight or not.  It was true she called herself a Witch, but the way he said it…she pressed her lips together firmly, tempted to tell him she wouldn’t be reduced to parlour tricks, but his eyes flitted back to Maya pointedly. There would be no excuses.

            “Alright.” Alice looked around the room, unsure of what to use. There were so many threads drifting across the ceiling, but what was she supposed to do with them? She couldn’t think of a specific spell. She crossed her arms over her chest as she surveyed the room, hoping Ambrose couldn’t see her shaking hands.  Her eyes wandered across the room, settling on the huge brick fire place at the other end of the parlour. She had a vague idea, but really no clue what she was doing. “Alright, stand farther back,” she told them. “Further than that. Okay, perfect.”

            Alice shut her eyes and stretched her conscious mind upwards, being careful to keep her focus small, to just call a few specific threads. She hoped feverishly that it would work.  She wrapped one thread around her waist, feeling its cool, light sensation as it sank through her dress and clung to her skin, a second thread  she applied to the material of her dress, entrenching herself in the magic from head to toe. The third thread she stretched out towards the fire place. She kept her eyes closed the entire time she did the trick.

Tired of waiting? Purchase the entire thing for $2.99 (link is on my profile).