Brush with Catastrophe

by Tara Lain

  Gods.

  Sammy felt his hand pick up the phone and dial the first number.

  A female voice answered.

  “Hello, Mrs. Barterman. This is Sammy Raphael. All of the community is being asked to gather at the Witch Master’s home today at two o’clock. I’m sorry it’s such short notice, but it is an emergency.”

  “Sammy, is that you? You sound strange.”

  I am strange. I need help. “Yes, ma’am, it’s me. Please be there today at two o’clock.”

  “Okay, Sammy. If you say so.”

  No, no, don’t do it. No. His hand hung up the phone. He dialed the next number. “Hello, Mrs. Chen. This is Sammy Raphael.”

  RYDER PACED the tiny floor space of the apartment. His body worked now. Coordination almost back to normal. He just took up more room that he used to—and he didn’t need electricity for lighting. They’d called him once from home.

  “How are you doing?”

  “Uh, fine. Still adapting.”

  Such a lie, but he wanted to see Sammy. At least, he had to know where Sammy was, and that he was all right.

  The phone rang, and he grabbed it. “Hello.”

  “Ryder?”

  “Yeah, hi, Chen. I was hoping you were Sammy.”

  “He’s not there?”

  Ryder ran a hand through the silver hair. “No. He’s been gone since early morning. I don’t know what he’s doing.”

  “I know what he’s doing. He’s calling the whole damned community and telling them to gather at the Wi—uh, Dr. Barth’s house today at two. My mom got his call and told me he sounded weird. I’ve been calling his cell, but no answer. I can’t get through to Blaine to find out what’s going on. I’m worried.”

  “This doesn’t sound good at all. Are you going to Dr. Barth’s?”

  “Yeah. Are you?”

  “I wasn’t invited.”

  “Oh.” Ryder could practically hear Chen trying to figure out a way to explain it.

  He’d let him off the hook. “I guess he figures since I’m leaving that it doesn’t concern me.”

  “Are you leaving?”

  Big question. Huge.

  FIGHT. CRAP. Fight. Sammy’s body followed fucking Lucien and his fucking slaves up the sidewalk toward the grand Barth mansion. They’d parked blocks away because of all the cars on the street. Most witches would have come by subway, but still, all the parking was taken.

  Sammy knew. He knew what Lucien was planning. Somehow the bastard had caused Killian’s coma. That had to be true, because he was now going to insert himself into the power vacuum the Witch Master’s illness had created. Lucien had waited enough days for people to get really scared, and now he was taking over.

  Gods, what would a witch world be like with Lucien Eshel at the helm? His disregard for life, human or witch, promised a world of war and devastation. But surely the combined power of the entire community could take him out. If only they would. The old power-hungry witch guard had either been defeated by Killian or had gone off licking their wounds. They would have loved Lucien. The rest of the community was made up of witches who were half-breed children, conservatives like Chen’s family, or married to humans. They were still learning to use their powers and still half afraid of them. Would any of them stand up to Lucien? What would happen to them if they did?

  Lucien was powerful. He could suck energy from the people around him and plant his control in them through sex. Sammy shuddered at the thought of the bastard’s charm around his neck. He wanted to rip it off his skin.

  “Don’t lag behind, Sammy.” Lucien stopped and waited for Sammy to catch up. “I want you to be your own charming, personable self. Think you can do that for me?”

  Fuck you! He could yell all he wanted in his mind. No-go on trying to break away from Lucien’s control.

  “There’s a good witch.”

  They started up the steps. Oh crap, I want to stop. He wanted to leave. He wanted to die. Some tiny voice in his brain murmured That can be arranged.

  Blaine walked out on the grand porch. Gods, he looked awful. Deep shadows bruised his eye sockets, and he hadn’t shaved. “Sammy, what the hell’s going on? Why have you called the community here? Killian can’t take this kind of chaos.”

  Lucien stretched out a hand and rested it on Blaine’s arm. “Ah, Dr. Genneau, Sammy did the calls for me. I will explain as soon as we are all inside.”

  Blaine stared at Lucien’s hand until the bastard removed it, then he looked at Sammy. “Are you okay, Sams?”

  No. No. “Yes, sir.”

  Blaine walked back into the house, and Lucien led his seven disciples inside. Sammy brought up the rear. When he got into the entry, he heard the soft voices of a crowd of people trying not to make noise coming from the grand living room.

  Blaine walked toward the back of the house and left them behind. Sammy’s heart broke for him. He knew a little of what Blaine felt. Losing Ryder. Oh gods, losing Ryder. What could he be thinking now? That Sammy’d left him?

  Sammy’s body carried him after Lucien into the living room. As he started through the entrance, a hand grabbed his arm. He looked behind him. Chen!

  Chen dragged him back a few feet. Wow. Lucien must have been distracted or Chen wouldn’t have been able to do that. “What’s going on? What the hells is the matter with you?”

  Sammy’s mouth worked. “I’m fu-fine.”

  “Don’t give me ‘fine.’ You look like crap. And you’re acting strange. Why are you with Lucien? Have you seen Estera?” He threw his head back. “Is it because of Ryder? Because he’s leaving?”

  Sammy stared at Chen and felt his soul crumbling. Ryder. “N-n-now?”

  “What?”

  “Leave? N-now?”

  “What’s wrong with you? I talked to Ryder, and he said he was leaving. Shit, I’m sorry, Sams. But have you gone off the deep end over this?”

  Now. Ryder was leaving. Gone? No good-bye? Maybe he thought Sammy left him. Maybe he thought Sammy was pissed and had walked out on him. Another reason to hate Lucien forever. Sammy felt the tears.

  Chen grabbed his arm. “Sams, I’m so sorry, man.”

  Sammy’s body suddenly snapped, like it woke up. Lucien must be paying attention again. Shit. Sammy shook off Chen and walked into the room where all the witches sat on chairs in rows around the perimeter. A big table by the back wall held flowers and fruit baskets people had sent in condolence. Some of the elders nodded to him, and friends among the young witches called out to him.

  Chen walked over to his chair by the back wall, looking upset. No wonder. Sammy’d been really rude. Or his body had. Chen had clearly saved a seat for Sammy, because there was a vacant chair next to him. Sammy wanted to take that seat, but his body dragged him to a chair near the front.

  Lucien stood in front of the group. He wore a black suit and suddenly didn’t look at all like he was twenty-one. “I know I don’t yet have a right to call you my friends, so I will simply say fellow members of the community. Though I am new here, I already feel a part of you, and together we have suffered a terrible and tragic loss. I know that our Witch Master still lives, but there is no sign of improvement. It may be that, at least for the present, his role as our leader may be beyond his capabilities.”

  Low murmurs of sympathy and sorrow filled the room.

  “I know that there are no leaders among you now.”

  Chen’s voice broke the monologue. “Jimmy and Lavender are leaders.”

  “Ah, yes. I have not yet had the pleasure. But”—he spread his hands out as if looking for the aforementioned witches—“where are they? Surely efforts have been made to get them to return, and yet they are not here.”

  Mitzi Elmer, blessings on her, stood up. “Yes, but they’ll be back, and we’re enough of a self-regulating community to be able to survive quite nicely without additional leadership.” She glowered at Lucien. “Thank you very much.” She crossed her arms and sat. A few others in the room nodded.

  “
Right.”

  “Yes, we can take care of ourselves.”

  Lucien adopted a deeply serious face. “Not if we suffer an attack from the European covens.”

  “Attack?” Chen’s dad looked horrified. “What are you talking about?”

  “As you know, I’m from Europe. My contacts there tell me that the covens may take this leadership vacuum as an opportunity to grab power in the United States.”

  Chen stood up. “How do we know that you’re not trying to grab power for them?”

  “I am trying to take power.” The noise level rose, and Lucien flashed that angel smile. He held up a hand. “But not for them. For us.”

  Sammy wanted to scream. A wise man once said, if you want to get rid of a problem, get a bigger problem. Lucien would create a threat and offer himself as the solution to that threat. Damn his angel eyes.

  Mr. Chen waved a hand. “Explain yourself, Eshel.”

  “You don’t know me well, but I am a uniquely powerful witch. That is not braggadocio. It’s true. I am one of the witches descended from the fallen angels.”

  Mitzi whispered, “Lucifer.”

  Lucien waved a hand. “Yes, well, he was simply the most well-known. But this lineage gives me special capabilities, which I believe no one in your coven—except the Witch Master, of course—possesses. I can call lightning and battle, should it be required. I have powers of, shall we say, control. And I offer myself as your champion.”

  Sammy was going to burst a blood vessel in his forehead with the frustration.

  Someone yelled, “How do we know that this so-called threat is real?”

  Lucien put on his most worried face. The actor. “I deeply fear that the reason Mr. and Mrs. Janx are not returned is because they have been kidnapped and held hostage in Prague.”

  “Gods, no!” The place went wacko. Sadly this was probably the only fucking true thing Lucien had said. Damn it, Jimmy and Lavender.

  Lucien looked so worried, the bastard. “I believe we will hear from someone demanding terms very soon. I would like to reply with a serious warning of our own.”

  Mr. Chen stood. He was a master witch. He might even be able to stand against Lucien with help, but he was way too scared to do it. He was used to having a powerful witch in charge of the community. He probably felt safer and more comfortable with Lucien stepping into the role than trying to take charge himself. “I believe your proposal is reasonable, young man, uh, witch. Of course, with the stipulation that all power will be returned to the Witch Master as soon as he has recovered.”

  Several others murmured agreement.

  Young Chen leaped up. “No, Dad. Can’t you see he’s a charlatan who enslaves people’s minds?”

  Lucien took a step toward Estera. He put a hand on her cheek. “Her preference for me is not enslavement, Chen. Only good sense.” Lucien smiled, and a few people in the room tittered.

  Chen blushed scarlet and sat down.

  Mitzi called out, “What do you think, Sammy? You came here with him. Do you agree?”

  Shit. No! He wanted to answer. He shook his head twice before his lips formed the words, “Of course. It’s our best option.” Crap. How could he tear out his tongue?

  Lucien beamed at him. “Sammy has been a great friend and supporter from the beginning, as many of you know.”

  A deep voice came from the entrance to the room. “Why don’t you let Sammy say what he truly believes, Lucien?”

  Lucien’s head snapped around. More slowly, the other witches in the room looked toward the entry.

  The very tall figure, dressed in a long-sleeved turtleneck sweater, a knit cap over his hair, and sunglasses, might not have looked familiar to most in the room. Sammy’s heart hammered. Ryder! He hadn’t left. And topping it off, Aloysius decorated his shoulder.

  Lucien frowned. “What possible business is it of yours, human?” The words dripped disdain.

  Ryder took another step into the room. “It’s my business because one of the witches you’re holding hostage is the man I love. You will set him free, and he’ll tell the community that you’re a lying son of a bitch who’s trying to overthrow the Witch Master and take over witchery.”

  The noise increased as people voiced their fears, agreements, and contradictions. Lucien held up his hand, but this time it did no good. Some people stood up.

  “Sammy, is that true?”

  “What’s going on?”

  Ryder came nearer. “And while you’re at it, Eshel, release Estera, Maybelle, Bilden, and the others from your thrall. You’ve fed on them long enough.”

  Chen leaped to his feet. “Estera! You bastard! Let her go!” He ran toward Estera. Lucien raised a hand, and a wave that looked like shimmery light slammed into Chen and threw him to the floor.

  Chen’s dad jumped up. “Son!” He threw up a hand as if to cast power and was slammed to the floor like his son. Mrs. Chen fell to her knees, sobbing beside her husband.

  The other witches cowered now. Even Jimmy’s dad, who was no slouch in the power department, hung back. After all, these witches were family people with kids, not fighters, and Lucien was formidable.

  “Enough!” Ryder’s voice rang out. “Pick on someone your own size, asshole.”

  Lucien looked confused, then sneered. “Are you going to wrestle me to the ground, human? Shoot me with an AK-47 like the rest of your barbarian race?” His eyes rolled back, and he hurled a wall of power, blasting light straight at Ryder.

  Sammy felt like he was wrestling his own body. No. Get away from him. Stop!

  Ryder raised an arm, flicked his fingers, and the wall disintegrated.

  Every witch gasped. What the…? Is Ryder a witch?

  Ryder stepped closer. “Go back to Europe. Tell them to release Jimmy and Lavender or there will be hell to pay. And stay gone. You aren’t welcome here.”

  “Who are you?” Lucien might have snarled it, but Sammy wanted to know too. So did everybody else.

  “An interested observer.” He looked toward Mr. Chen lying on the floor. “Is he okay?”

  Mrs. Chen sobbed. “He’s breathing. That’s all I can say for sure.”

  “What about your son?”

  “I think he’s all right.”

  Lucien narrowed his ice-blue eyes. “Get out of here and stop interfering.”

  Ryder smiled. “Not on your life.”

  “It is yours that is in jeopardy.” Lucien’s body seemed to swell, and he flung a narrow bolt of light like a spear. Ryder ducked, and it sailed over his head, disintegrating behind him. Ryder gathered a mass of blue energy, like he was making a giant snowball, and hurled it toward Lucien. The fallen angel laughed and knocked it aside.

  Again Lucien cast a golden beam, and Ryder slung a blue one to scramble it.

  Lucien hurled light at Ryder’s head. As Ryder leaned away, Lucien cast again to the other side and caught him square in the chest. Ryder’s eyes widened in a look of pain.

  No, Ryder. Hells! Where’s Aloysius? Why doesn’t he help? Sammy looked around. The cat had jumped onto a chair and watched the action but didn’t participate. Why? Of course. Because Al was Sammy’s familiar now. Not Ryder’s. As much as the cat loved the man, or whatever the hells Ryder was, Al couldn’t magnify his power.

  Ryder staggered back three steps, then thrust forth his hands. Out of his fingers rolled a blanket of power that flashed and shimmered as it swept over Lucien. The witch blinked, and it was gone.

  This didn’t look good. Why didn’t the others fight with Ryder?

  Sammy looked at the stunned faces. Jimmy’s dad was glassy-eyed. Mitzi looked angry but unmoving. Chen was still on the floor, though his eyes were open. Was Lucien controlling all of them while battling with Ryder? How much power does the witch have?

  Flash. Another blast from Lucien, and it clipped Ryder on the shoulder, spinning him against an armoire. Slam. Gods, that must have hurt. Ryder! Sammy reached out.

  Wait. He’d moved on his own. Maybe the limit of Lucien’s power
was reached. The fallen angel could dampen the motivation of the whole crowd, but he couldn’t control Sammy’s movements too.

  A vibration echoed in Sammy’s ears. “Purrrr.” Aloysius! Was the cat helping break him free?

  Sammy tested his other arm. Yes! His legs moved. He ran to Chen and shook him. “Are you okay? Can you move?”

  Chen nodded and sat up slowly.

  Sammy gasped. “You know I have no power. Can you throw a bolt at Lucien?”

  Chen raised a hand. Screwed up his face. Nothing. He shook his head. “He must be blocking me somehow.”

  “Hells.”

  Sammy leaped up and ran toward Ryder. He threw his body between the two battling giants. “Lucien, leave him alone.” He raised his arms like a football player. Sure, for the scarecrow team.

  Lucien shrugged. “Samlyn, I hate to hurt you. I am so looking forward to fucking that ass. Do not try my patience.”

  Ryder screamed, “You son of a bitch!” and threw a huge bolt. It sailed past Sammy’s head, straight at Lucien’s chest. Sammy could actually see Lucien gather energy from the room and surround himself with it like a cloak. The bolt struck, scattered, and Lucien hurled another back at Ryder.

  White lightning smashed Sammy in the arm. She-it! Pain seared straight to his head, the room fuzzed out for a second, and Sammy crashed to the floor.

  Slam. He looked up in time to see the bolt strike Ryder full in the chest. “Ahhh.” His cry of pain hurt Sammy more than the bolt that had hit him.

  Sammy held his head. “No. Don’t hurt him. Please.”

  Lucien cast again, and again it hit Ryder, throwing him back a few steps. Lucien bore down on him, passing Sammy where he lay on the floor.

  “Merwaor.” The cat leaned over Sammy, crossed blue eyes staring into Sam’s.

  “Hi, fella. Can’t you help? Can’t you do something?”

  Sammy heard the purr. The eyes gazed into his.

  Paint.

  The word appeared as if written on his mind. Paint what?

  An image of the flowers he had painted in class.