[Elder Races 04] - Oracle's Moon Page 7

  He frowned. “This is also why you use a cane.”

  She looked down at her leg, nodding. Suddenly he was crouched in front of her chair. She nearly jumped out of her skin. “Don’t do that!”

  But his attention was on her leg. He was still frowning. “I want you to show me.”

  She almost lashed out at him, physically as well as verbally, but his fascination was so alien, so outside normal human boundaries of behavior, it caught her own attention. Slowly she unbuckled the straps on the brace and pulled it off. Her slender leg was bare from the ragged edge of the cutoff shorts to her naked foot.

  Khalil took hold of her, one huge hand at her ankle and the other slipping underneath her knee, and he pulled her leg out straight. His hands were quite careful and inhumanly hot, as if his physical form contained an inferno of energy. While he studied the mass of red scars, she studied him by the indirect light of the computer screen. Her stomach clenched again as he probed her knee with a light tendril of Power, but she let him explore the injury in silence.

  He wasn’t exactly compassionate. If he had been, she would have shoved him away. No, his impartial attitude had a strange effect on her. She found herself relaxing and studying her own knee with dispassion, as if it belonged to someone else. It was the first time since the accident that she had been able to do so.

  “This has been cut open,” he said. He sounded shocked.

  “I had to have a couple of surgeries,” she said. His quick diamond gaze met hers, and she shrugged. “I’m lucky to be alive, but that doesn’t stop me from complaining.”

  “Your flesh is so fragile,” he murmured. “And even though you are still healing, it is too late to repair your knee by Powerful means.”

  She said drily, “Even in the witches’ demesne, doctors with that kind of Power are rare. I didn’t have health insurance or the money to pay for that kind of treatment. I guess the concept of permanent physical damage must seem pretty foreign to you.”

  He shot her a quick, upward glance from under frowning brows. “I understand permanent damage,” he said. “I have struck down my enemies before, both those bound in flesh and those who are folk of the air. Djinn can be damaged. My daughter is.”

  Surprise pulsed. She said, “I’m sorry.”

  Instead of replying, he took the brace and fitted it around her leg again. She took over to strap it into place. Her voice was a little hoarse as she said, “It’s my turn to ask you a question.”

  “Yes,” he said. He sat back on his heels. His expression had turned inscrutable.

  It was her turn to fall silent. Somehow asking him about dates, mates, sex and TV seemed too childish given the turn in their conversation. She studied him, considering questions and casting each one aside. Either one of them could put an end to the truth game after she asked him her question and this round ended. She wanted to make sure she asked something as useful as possible.

  His expression turned irritable. “Are you going to ask me something or pay the forfeit?”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Don’t try to rush me. We didn’t negotiate a time limit on asking our questions.”

  “Very good, human,” said Khalil. He sounded surprised and somewhat amused. “You might learn to be an effective bargainer, given enough practice.”

  “The more you talk and distract me, the more time I might need to think,” Grace warned.

  He laughed as he stood. The laughter was real, and it danced through his energy along with a physical ripple in his low, pure voice. She shivered, and a sprinkle of goose bumps rose along her skin. She’d had no idea that a Djinn could be so fascinating.

  She shoved that thought aside as she spun her chair in another circle, more slowly this time. Then she caught sight of her computer screen. The saved-as-draft notification still showed on her e-mail program, reminding her of why she had called Khalil in the first place.

  She turned back to face him. She needed to phrase this carefully so she didn’t waste an opportunity. Making sure that she said a statement and didn’t frame it as a question, she said, “When the Vampyres were here, we spoke of someone who was killed on the property earlier today.”

  He gave her a thoughtful look. “Yes. I have since learned the details of the incident.”

  She gripped the arms of her chair until her knuckles whitened. “What happened was an excellent example of how meaningless the law of sanctuary can be.”

  “I cannot argue with that.”

  Grace licked her lips. “The Oracle’s Power doesn’t work like other witches’ Power, and I don’t have offensive spells. I would like to…hire you, I guess, for lack of a better term. Do I have anything you might value enough that I can bargain with you for continuing protection for me and the children?”

  Khalil’s expression shuttered. “Yes,” he said.

  Khalil watched with interest as Grace’s expression fell. Usually he enjoyed that look of disappointment on humans’ faces. He wondered why he didn’t this time.

  She said, “I didn’t phrase the question right, and you answered me.” She rubbed the back of her neck and slumped in her seat.

  For a moment, all the young human’s spitfire was doused. She looked so weary and discouraged, Khalil felt moved to…something.

  He was not moved to point out that she was asking for something he had already granted her, nor did he see any reason to inform her that she’d already thrown away one favor. That went against every Djinn instinct he had. She needed to learn to pay better attention. Bargaining and negotiation were skills that every youngling Djinn had to work to acquire, and there was no better way to learn that than practicing in real life.

  He might not have recognized “pull the other one” but despite how he had baited her earlier, he had in fact associated amicably with quite a few humans throughout his long existence, and he knew some slang and colloquialisms. He believed there was an appropriate saying for a time such as this. It was called learning from the school of hard knocks.

  No, he felt moved to something else, something strange that he poked at curiously. He pointed out, “You are too tired to continue this conversation properly.”

  She lifted a shoulder in a desultory shrug, her gaze unfocused. “I suppose you’re right. It’s been a hard day, and a rare one. I’ve never seen anybody killed before.”

  That jolted him. Was she really that young and innocent herself?

  She continued, drily, “Even though it was justified, I’m still rattled, although I doubt a troop of rabid monkeys is going to escape from the zoo and attack in the next few hours. I will try to come up with a bargain that interests you another time.”

  What would it be like to watch someone else get killed for the first time and to know you did not have the Power to prevent something like that from happening again? His own Power roused and twisted upon itself at the thought. He would not like it. He would not like it at all. That was when he realized she had been so angry and contentious throughout the day because she had been frightened.

  Perhaps this human was not quite so awful after all. He wouldn’t go so far as to admit he liked her. But even though the damage she had sustained clearly pained her, her lack of self-pity was respectable enough. And her cheeky attitude was unexpectedly amusing.

  Then there were the children to consider.

  He crossed his arms and sighed. “You will let me visit with the children anytime I wish.”

  Her gaze shot up to his. She looked startled and suddenly very alert, and a touch of fire came back into her energy. Ah, that was better, Khalil decided. He had to admit: he did like her fire.

  “No,” she said.

  He lifted an eyebrow. “You’re the one who wanted to bargain with me,” he pointed out. “I am merely presenting a term that would be acceptable to me.”

  She watched him with the kind of wariness with which one might watch a poisonous snake. “You can visit with Chloe and Max anytime you like,” she said, “but only when I’m present. I don’t want to see an
ything else happen like this talking cat nonsense.”

  “That was not merely nonsense, as you say,” he said irritably. “I did have a reason for doing it.” Really, he was not usually so irascible. This female had a talent for bringing that out in him.

  Grace’s slender eyebrows rose. She said, “I hardly dare to ask.”

  His mouth tightened. He was not inconsistent either, and stating a reason for the purposes of making an argument was not the same thing as acting defensive. He said, “I merely wished to develop a rapport with the children, so that I would not frighten them whenever I might show up.”

  Small indentations appeared on either side of her shapely mouth. What were those indentations called again? Ah, yes. Dimples. She said, “Aw, you wanted to make friends with them. You wanted them to like you. You were bribing them.”

  “I was not bribing them.” He glared.

  Her dimples disappeared as quickly as they had appeared. She said sternly, “What I say goes for anything that has to do with the kids. You may know a lot of things—and believe it or not, I mean this with respect—but you do not know human children well enough to know what’s good for them. If you have questions or concerns, you can talk to me telepathically or some time when they’re not around, so we don’t argue in front of them again and upset Chloe. That’s the only deal I will accept that involves the children.”

  He sucked a tooth to avoid a sudden smile. She went from dejection to dictating in a matter of seconds. He approved. He also approved of her protectiveness for the little ones. “Agreed,” he said. “The connection is in place. You’ve already shown yourself to be proficient at…how did you say…yanking my chain. You may summon me at any time if you feel alarmed or in need. I will stop by some time tomorrow to begin collecting on my end of the bargain, so plan for my visit with the little ones. Now, go to bed.”

  He lingered just long enough to watch for her reaction to his order. She sat very straight, and a sarcastic, angry look crossed her face. As she opened her mouth, he chuckled to himself and vanished.

  Khalil might have a talent for rubbing Grace the wrong way, but she had to give him credit for one thing: once he disappeared after their talk, she was able to stretch out on the futon and fall asleep.

  That didn’t last nearly long enough. Something squashed her nose.

  Her eyes popped open. She stared into Chloe’s upside-down face as the girl hung over the end of the futon. Chloe was grinning. Her blonde hair stood around her head in a nimbus. Some might even compare it to an angel’s halo.

  Grace knew better. She said groggily, “Pushing my wake-up button never gets old for you, does it?”

  Chloe giggled and shook her head. She pushed Grace’s nose again with a forefinger. “Wakey, wakey, Gracie,” Chloe said. “When am I going to get a big-girl bed?”

  Grace sighed. Chloe had a small toddler bed, which wouldn’t be suitable for much longer. She needed a regular twin-sized bed soon. “I’ve told you before, baby girl, we’ll get you a new bed as soon as we can afford one.”

  “Yeah, but when will that be? I’m too big to sleep in a little bed anymore.”

  “I know you are, honey,” Grace mumbled.

  The only other beds in the house were upstairs. Grace had lived at home while she went to college, so she had a double bed in her bedroom, and the bed in Petra and Niko’s old room was a queen. Not only were those too big for Chloe, but they wouldn’t fit in the children’s downstairs bedroom. Maybe she could trade Chloe’s toddler bed to somebody for a twin-sized one. Petra’s friend Katherine ran a daycare. Katherine might know of someone who needed a toddler bed and was interested in a trade.

  Grace put an arm around Chloe and hugged her while she looked at the window. The lace curtains still hung in a knot from Khalil’s furious entrance last night. Outside, the morning brightened past dawn, and birds were yelling at the top of their lungs. In Grace’s experience, early morning birds never sang. Instead, they bellowed. Grace had gotten perhaps five hours’ sleep. It was going to be another long day.

  She asked, “Is Max awake?”

  “Uh-huh,” Chloe said. “Can we have pancakes for breakfast?”

  “If we do, will you eat the other half of Max’s banana?” Grace asked. Getting Chloe to eat fruits and vegetables was a constant challenge.

  Chloe tilted her delicate jaw. “Bananas disturb me,” she said.

  Grace burst out laughing. “Where on earth did you learn that?”

  Clearly pleased with herself, Chloe grinned. “Pancakes, one bite of banana,” she offered, with a bargaining wiliness worthy of a Djinn.

  “No, Chloe.”

  “Fine! Ugh! You never let me have anything I want!” Chloe turned to stomp out of the office.

  Grace called after her, “You’re getting pancakes, aren’t you?”

  “Just wait until I’m big enough to push the grocery cart around!” Chloe shouted from the living room. “We’re never going to buy bananas again!”

  Grace burst into a fresh peal of laughter. Chloe in a temper was a sight to behold.

  Max was as sunny natured as his sister was tempestuous. Grace found him humming and burbling in his crib. “Eeeee!” he said happily when he saw her.

  “Good morning to you too, sunshine,” she said. She changed his diaper then picked him up to kiss him all over his soft, round face. He giggled and threw his arms around her neck. She held him tight for a moment. Sometimes she felt like she couldn’t breathe for worrying about how she would take care of these kids. She felt too young and far too inadequate, but gods, she loved them with all of her heart.

  In the kitchen, she settled Max into his high chair while Chloe climbed into her booster seat, the Lala Whoopsie doll dangling from one hand. Chloe set the doll on her lap and looked expectant. Grace peeled a banana, and Max’s eyes lit up. He had developed enough dexterity to pick up bites of food with his thumb and forefinger, so she cut up part of a banana and set it in a bowl in front of him. “Mmm,” he said delightedly and set to work.

  When she set the other half of banana in front of Chloe, the little girl scowled. “Why can’t we have pancakes first?”

  Grace said, “Because I haven’t cooked them yet. Besides, you need to eat your banana first.”

  Chloe said, “You’re bad.”

  That was going too far. Grace said sternly, “That’s enough, young lady. You have two choices. You can choose to eat your banana and be nice and get pancakes, or you can choose to get cereal and go to your room after breakfast.”

  In Grace’s mind, the coin from last night tossed into the air. Smart. Dumb. Poor Chloe was going to be living in the confessional booth beside Grace’s if she didn’t watch out. Grace understood her niece probably a lot better than Chloe thought.

  “But you promised!” Chloe wailed.

  “I never promised to cook pancakes for girls who try to get out of eating their banana like they said they would and who say mean things to me,” Grace said. She looked at Max. His cheeks were full, and he already had fruit smeared in his wispy hair. Okay. Another bath after breakfast for that one. Chloe turned red and started to cry as she ate her half of the banana in fast, furious bites. And a meltdown for the eldest one, and it wasn’t even seven o’clock yet.

  Grace headed in desperation for the coffeemaker. Apparently it was going to be one of those mornings. Funny how often those happened after a short night’s sleep.

  She set the machine to brew an extra-strong pot, because these days caffeine was her best friend. The coffeemaker sat on the worn countertop beside the kitchen window. As she switched on the machine, the sunny morning darkened. She leaned over the counter to look at the sky.

  The sky was blue, dotted with fluffy cumulous clouds, and directly overhead a huge portion of it rippled. Wow, was that wrong.

  Before she could do more than stare, the rippling mass of nothingness descended onto the wide, neglected lawn, and for the second time in as many days, a dragon appeared on her property.

&nbs
p; Not a dragon. The dragon. Dragos Cuelebre, the only known dragon in existence.

  Cuelebre was easily the size of a private jet. He was a deep bronze color that gleamed in the early sunlight. The bronze darkened to black at the ends of his gigantic wings, tail and long, powerful legs. He turned an enormous, triangular horned head to look around the clearing with fierce, metallic gold eyes before he shimmered into a shapeshift. His form shrank into that of a massive man, almost seven feet fall in height, with bronze-colored skin, inky black hair and gold dragon’s eyes.

  She had to stop getting kicked in the head like this. She had to.

  She looked at the brewing coffee with equal parts panic and despair. Then she looked at Chloe and Max. Chloe was tearfully muttering to the last of the banana in her hand. Max kicked a tiny plump foot as he licked his fingers.

  Grace’s appalled gaze traveled back to the scene outside the window. Cuelebre strode in the direction of the front of the house. He had a brutal handsomeness, as though he had been hewn out of granite, and to her mind’s eye the air around him boiled with the force of his presence.

  Violence is forbidden here. She had said that to Cuelebre just yesterday morning, when he had come to confront Rune and Carling, and eventually the Elder tribunal as well. Cuelebre’s mate had accompanied him yesterday, but this morning the dragon was alone. He was more frightening when he was alone.

  People can be taken from this place, Dragos had said. And violence done to them elsewhere.

  Grace started to shake. She fumbled for the thread of connection to Khalil and pulled on it. She sensed him streaking toward her, his bright Power arcing like a shooting comet, then he filled the kitchen with his presence as his form coalesced beside her.

  Max crowed in surprise. Chloe said, “Hello there, doggie-cat. Would you like a bite of my banana?”

  Grace turned to face Khalil. He had looked powerful and exotic last night, ivory and crimson, and gleaming raven black hair. In the full light of morning he appeared more alien than ever. He wore undyed linen this time, and his ivory skin was poreless. Those piercing diamond eyes focused on her then he glanced sharply around the cheerful, domestic scene.