Brush with Catastrophe

by Tara Lain

  Paint flowers?

  An image of Ryder in the moonlight. Paint.

  Shit. Paint. Paint!

  Sammy sprang to his feet, and Al leaped to his shoulder. Paint how? He looked around frantically. Ryder was on the floor but still hurling bolts of power. Lucien stalked at him, flashing light from his hands and bolts from his eyes. Gods, help. Not Ryder. Nothing could happen to Ryder.

  Sammy ran to Chen. “Have you got a pencil?”

  Chen pointed to a pocket. Sammy reached inside and pulled out a piece of charcoal, like one an artist would use to sketch. Okay.

  Canvas? In the corner, behind where many of the witches were cowering, was an expanse of wall. Sammy skirted behind the chairs and passed the table of flowers and fruit. Fruit. Yes. He grabbed some blueberries and oranges.

  He looked around the crowd, toward the battle. Ryder was nearly prostrate, and Lucien was laughing. Sammy’s heart leaped across the room to Ryder. Shit, hurry. No. Focus. This was weird. Impossible. Beyond a long shot. All he had. Aloysius leaped onto a chair beside him. His blue eyes speared Sammy like a laser.

  “Purrrrr.” Focus. “Purrrr.”

  Sammy took a deep breath. Oil poured over his brain. Soothing. Cooling. He took hold of the charcoal and began to sketch. A scene. This room. A witch lying on the floor. Another victorious, powerful, winning. Sammy crushed some blueberries in his hand and colored the scene in shades of azure. Then some orange. He filled in the outlines with the deep charcoal. Paint your life. Paint for your life. Al purred and purred and purred. Cool, purr, soothing, purr, victory, purrrrrr.

  Sammy stuck his hand out toward the cat. “Bite me, Al.” The cat stared at him for only a second, then sank his fangs into Sammy’s hand. The blood flowed red, and Sammy swiped it across the wall. Yes. He’d give his blood. He’d give his life. Aloysius leaped onto his shoulder, purring in his ear. Sammy’s hands flew over the drawing, his mind like a deep well of penetrating darkness.

  Defeat! “Purrrrr.” Win! “Purrrr.” Win. “PURRRRR!”

  “Angel, do you feel up to dealing with me?”

  Sammy whirled. Oh gods!

  Killian, as if he had never been sick, glowing, pouring power from his cells. His waist-length hair stood out from his body as if in a whirlwind.

  Aloysius screamed. “Merwaoooooowrrrrr.”

  He leaped from Sammy’s neck, sprang across the room in two huge bolts, and landed on Killian’s shoulder with his fangs bared.

  Thunder rumbled, shaking the walls. Sammy felt the hair on his arms stand up as straight as the fur on Aloysius’s back. The whole room charged, like it was waiting.

  Crash!

  A bolt of lightning crashed through the window, striking Lucien straight in the chest.

  The fallen angel fell back, clutching his heart. Killian struck him again. “Will you challenge the Witch Master, fool? Do you and your puny conspirators think you have the balls to overthrow me?” The walls shook, the sunlight dimmed, and lightning bolts slammed all around Lucien’s feet.

  Holy crap. Jimmy had told Sammy that on the rare occasions Killian got his power on, Sammy wouldn’t recognize the unassuming college professor. Jimmy was right. This Witch Master was a super scary dude.

  Thunder rumbled again. Sammy saw Blaine by the wall, smiling like an avenging spirit. Another bolt of lightning struck the ground at Lucien’s feet.

  Killian stopped. The lightning stilled. The thunder silenced. Killian stared at Lucien, who was backed against the wall. The Witch Master’s voice came out so softly that Sammy had to strain to hear it. “I will gladly kill you, witch. Choose. Surrender or die.”

  Lucien’s eyes widened. His chest rose and fell. Then the blue ice narrowed, and he threw out a hand.

  Crash. Without a flicker of an eyelash, Killian brought the lightning down onto the beautiful witch’s hand, searing it off.

  Lucien screamed. Aloysius jumped down and smelled the long-fingered hand lying on the Persian rug.

  Lucien fell to his knees. “I submit. I never meant—”

  Killian snapped, “You never meant to lose. That’s what you never meant. But you seriously underestimated the power of my community.”

  Lucien looked straight up at Sammy.

  Around the room, everyone seemed to be coming out of their trances. Maybelle stared at her arms like she hadn’t ever seen them before. Estera started to cry, and Chen was at her side instantly. Gold necklaces all crumbled to their feet. Sammy felt the angel charm release. Like the weight of a thousand chains, it fell to the floor and dissolved in a puff of black smoke.

  Released. Free. All he wanted to do was go to Ryder. The man still lay on the floor in a heap against the wall. So still. Like death. No, gods. No!

  No one looked at Ryder. No one had a thought for the strange creature who had forfeited everything to save them all. Sammy slithered behind the crowd to get to the man he loved.

  Ryder lay silent and still, some of his clothing blackened and charred. Sammy slid his hands over Ryder’s wide, powerful shoulders. Tears pushed out of Sammy’s eyes, and he buried his face against Ryder’s motionless neck. “Ryder. My love. Please. Oh, please.”

  Nothing. Not a quiver. Sammy leaned down close to Ryder’s mouth and put his cheek by the full lips. Oh gods. Was that air? “Ryder? Can you hear me?”

  Nothing.

  Sammy pressed his lips gently against Ryder’s. Eternal sweetness. Softly he let his tongue caress the seam of those beloved lips.

  “Umm.”

  Sammy’s head snapped back. “What? Ryder, speak to me.”

  “Um-hm.”

  A rain of kisses fell from Sammy’s lips onto that beautiful face. “You’re alive. Oh gods, you’re alive.”

  Ryder’s voice was very soft. “I couldn’t leave you.”

  “Yes. Thank you. Yes.” Sammy kissed him some more.

  A hand gripped Sammy’s shoulder, and he looked up at Blaine. “Sammy, I think Killian would want you and Ryder to slip out. No need making this harder on Ryder.”

  Oh crap. He hadn’t thought of that.

  Blaine squatted down and put an arm around Ryder’s back. Slowly Ryder moved, sat up, and made it to his feet with Blaine’s help. Oh, thank gods, thank gods.

  Blaine nodded toward the door at the far side of the huge living room. Sammy hurried over to it and held the door for them. Strangely none of the others except Chen seemed at all interested in their progress. Ryder had saved them all, and they didn’t even give him a round of applause.

  Sammy closed the door behind Blaine and gently wrapped his arms around Ryder. “I can’t believe it. You saved us. You saved us all. And you didn’t leave and you’re here and I love you and—”

  Ryder laughed. What a wonderful sound. He shook his head. “I didn’t save anyone, Sammy. You did.”

  “What? Don’t be silly. But you got some ’splainin’ to do, Lucy.”

  Blaine put a hand on both their arms. “I think it’s best if I take you both home. I’m sure Killian will want to see you later.” His eyes filled with tears. “Thank you both so much. I know it’s a much bigger thing you did, but for me, you gave me back the man I love, and that’s everything.”

  Sammy grabbed Ryder’s arm. “Well, Killian gave me back the man I love, so we’re way even.”

  Chapter Eleven

  AFTER A ride in Killian’s electric sports car, where they defied physics by packing Sammy on Ryder’s lap in the passenger seat, Sammy followed Ryder into the apartment. It might be ratty, but after the day he’d had, this place looked like the Taj Mahal.

  Sammy closed the door and turned. Ryder stood in the middle of the floor, his shoulders slumped. In this light, the black knit cap looked suspiciously like an old one of Sam’s, and that was definitely Sammy’s turtleneck stretched to breaking across Ryder’s newly widened shoulders.

  Sammy nodded to the sleeping alcove. “Why don’t you lie down?”

  Ryder shook his head. “But I will sit down.” He still had on the sunglas
ses.

  Sammy went to the kitchenette, grabbed some iced coffee from the fridge, and poured two glasses. Funny, he half wanted to hurl himself into Ryder’s lap and half wanted answers.

  He went back and sat beside Ryder. “Are you all right? It looked like he hurt you bad.”

  “He did. But we heal quickly.”

  Sammy sighed. “Okay, so answers before kissing.”

  Ryder smiled. “No, kissing is far more important.”

  “Oh, thank gods.” Sammy put down his glass and wrapped his arms around Ryder’s neck. Ryder dropped the glass in midair, and Sammy saw it float to the table as Ryder’s mouth closed over his. Yes. Ryder’s vanilla taste flooded his mouth, and the warmth of spirit that was Ryder soaked into Sammy’s skin.

  Sammy pulled back. “I love you.”

  “Thank you. I never thought in my life to have someone to love me. Someone I love more than myself, my people, my life.”

  “Oh, Ryder.” Sammy held him tight. Never let go. Never let go. But he did. “So do you love me enough to take off the glasses?”

  Ryder reached up and grasped them, then pulled them off. His eyes gleamed like emeralds in sunlight.

  “Wow.”

  He reached up and pulled off the cap. A curtain of shining silver fell to his shoulders.

  “Double wow.”

  With the sleeve of his turtleneck, he wiped a trail across something he had applied to his face, and underneath, his skin shone like moonlight.

  “What do you have on your face?”

  He grinned. “A mixture of calamine lotion and shave cream. It did the job.”

  “So?”

  “I’m elven, Sam. It’s so funny that you all used to call me Alvish. The first time you did it, I jumped a foot. My people live on an island in the Caribbean Sea. It’s isolated and on no maps.”

  Sammy couldn’t catch his breath. “I’ve heard of elves, but I thought they were a myth.”

  “We aren’t exactly elves as the myths portray them.”

  “Obviously. You’re huge.”

  “And I’ll grow more. I’m only an adolescent among my kind.”

  “What? But we’ve had sex and—”

  “It’s okay. We’re very long-lived, and adolescence is the time of our sexual maturity. The reason I’m inexperienced, however, is that we don’t express sexually until we’re going through our transition. The one I had this past summer. You said we wasted time by your not knowing I was gay. But actually I wasn’t ready to have sex with you. And my kind are happy with a male or female partner. We fall in love with the person, and that determines our orientation.”

  Brain going to explode.

  Ryder pulled off the turtleneck. His whole body glimmered like it was covered with living silver vines. “But this is why I have to leave.” He sighed. “When we’re young, we look human. That’s why I was sent here. Though technically we’re children, we’re mature and intelligent, but we don’t have much power. I was sent to, well, spy on your witch community. Since you guys mix in with humans so much, it’s a constant worry for the elven. We don’t want humans aware of supernaturals, because they may start looking for more. And here you all are marrying humans and producing children.”

  “Like me.”

  “Yep. I wasn’t supposed to get involved.”

  Sammy sighed. “Like with me.”

  “Right. But you made me want more in my life. Love, partnership, and a quiet life together.” Ryder ran his hands down his chest. “But I am as I am, and I can’t hide it anymore. I have to go.”

  Sammy’s heart beat hard. “And I can’t go with you?”

  Ryder’s forehead creased. “We mix with no one.”

  “Especially not a witch.”

  Ryder nodded.

  Tears filled Sammy’s eyes. “It’s not fair. It’s horrible to finally have you and then lose you again. How can the gods do that to us?”

  Ryder took Sammy in his arms and held him tight. “I know. If there was anything to do, I would. But look at me, Sams. How can I pass for human anymore? And I think my people would kill me before they’d let me reveal the existence of the elven to humans. Oh God, I can’t bear to leave you.” His big body shook as he cried.

  Sammy sobbed as Ryder rocked him in his arms. He stared into darkness. Purrrrr. A sound vibrated through his head. Like Aloysius, but the cat wasn’t there. He was still with Killian. Sammy looked up at Ryder. “Do you hear that?”

  “What?”

  Purrrr. “It’s like…. Wait.” Purrrrrrr. The sound vibrated in his cells. The edges of his vision softened and blurred. Warmth flowed through his head and down over his body. His hands twitched.

  Ryder gripped Sammy’s shoulders. “Are you okay? What’s happening?”

  Purrrrr. Sammy looked up at the easel, though he could barely see the forms of objects around him. He could…. He turned to Ryder. “If you could stay, would you?” His voice sounded in his head like it came from a great depth.

  Ryder’s eyes widened. “In a minute.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I would stay, but how—”

  Sammy put a finger to Ryder’s lips, leaned over, and kissed him, then got up. The world swam. He thrust out a hand. “Help me.”

  Ryder stood and took his arm. “What?”

  Sammy pointed to the easel where an empty canvas sat. “Take me there.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes. Please.” Ryder walked with Sammy to the easel. “Thank you.” He looked at Ryder, and all he saw was a silver glow. “You’re sure?”

  Ryder nodded. “But what…?”

  Sammy waved a hand toward the couch. “Sit.” He was slightly aware of Ryder moving away. Sammy grasped a brush from the jar of turpentine where he’d left it. Deep breath. He closed his eyes. Ryderness. Dark, deep, flowing oil. Purrrrr.

  The truth of the man—the elf—poured through Sammy’s veins. Beauty, goodness, strength, power, and love. Above all, love. Flowing. Purrrr. The clear green eyes, lovely creamy skin, soft brown hair. Long legs, broad shoulders, and that big, gorgeous cock. He sucked in the truth of it, breathed the beauty. The brush flew like it was possessed. Sammy had no control. The universe painted. He only helped. Truth. Purrrr. Joy. Purrrr. Love. Purrrr.

  Slowly the oil stopped flowing. The darkness that was light lifted. Sammy could feel Ryder holding his breath. He could feel all the world holding its breath. Did he dare? He was afraid to look. His vision sharpened. He turned his head.

  Ryder stood before Sammy as he had been only a few days ago, after his first transition but still looking like a human. Sammy’s heart swelled. So beautiful. Tall, luminous, strong, and powerful. “I hope that was okay.”

  Ryder looked down at his own arms. Tears flowed out of his eyes as he ran to the mirror. “Oh my God, Sammy. You’re amazing. This means—” He fell to his knees and buried his hands in his hair. “I can stay. I can stay with you. I love you so much.” He looked up at Sammy, his cheeks red, but not a vine in sight. “You’ve given me my life.”

  “You’re really happy?”

  “I could not be happier.”

  Sammy knelt beside him. “Me too. Ryder, I love you.” They rocked in each other’s arms until the warmth and joy started turning to heat. Sammy looked down at his growing bulge. “Want to try out that new and improved cock?”

  There was a gentle rap on the door. Talk about crappy timing.

  Ryder grinned. “Rain check.”

  Sammy shrugged, got up, and went to the door.

  Whoa. He stepped back and allowed Killian, Blaine, and Aloysius to enter. “Good evening, Witch Master. Thank you for coming.”

  Ryder stood up and walked over beside Sammy. “Good to see you, professors.”

  Killian looked him up and down. “How?”

  Ryder nodded. “Sammy.”

  “I see.”

  Sammy watched the exchange like a tennis match. “Uh, please sit down.” He motioned to the couch. “Sorry about the lumps.”
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  Killian and Blaine sat, and Al jumped on the back of the couch, crossed to the end, and leaped to Ryder’s shoulder.

  “Hey, hi, fella.” Ryder scratched the cat’s chin, and the purr could be heard across the room.

  Sammy got one rickety chair for Ryder. “Would you like some iced coffee?”

  Killian shook his head. “No, thanks. We can’t stay long. There’s a lot of catching up to do.”

  Sammy sat on the floor. “What happened to Lucien?”

  “He’s confined. I’ll take him with me when I travel to Prague to confront the coven there. I’ll judge if they have the strength to contain him.”

  “How did Lucien poison you?”

  Blaine frowned. “We’ve figured out it was that damned dessert he gave us. It was spelled so that it only poisoned Killian. We didn’t suspect the sweet, since everyone ate it and no one else was affected.”

  Killian squeezed his husband’s hand. “Thank goodness. But I greatly underestimated Lucien. He’s powerful.”

  Ryder scowled. “And evil.”

  “Yes. It comes with his heritage.”

  “I hate to think what would happen to humans if he’d taken over.”

  Sammy shuddered. “To say nothing of what would have happened to witches. Being controlled by him in body and speech was the strangest, scariest thing I’ve ever experienced by far.”

  Killian nodded. “But he didn’t take over, thanks to the two of you.” He scooted forward on the seat. “And that’s what I want to discuss. What are your plans?” He waved a hand at Ryder. “This retransformation is extraordinary, but is it wise?”

  Suddenly the air in the center of the room began to waver, like somehow oxygen had turned to H2O.

  Sammy scooted back. “What the hells?”

  Ryder stood, completely at attention. Killian also got up. He didn’t look afraid, just very, very attentive. Aloysius jumped from Ryder’s shoulder back to the couch and perched there.

  Uh-oh.

  A body took form from the liquid air. Huge, at least six foot seven or more. And where Ryder’s elven form was silver, this being was gold—shimmering and iridescent. His hair fell to his waist like a golden curtain, around a face so exquisite it made Killian look plain. And that was one hells of a trick.