Oracle's Moon er-4 Read online

  Grace’s reaction was just as rich, strange and plentiful. She shouldn’t have agreed to allow any of it. The whole thing was as bad as the talking-cat nonsense. Or maybe it was worse? She couldn’t decide, and the dilemma was making her feel a little too much like the witch Samantha’s cranky, disapproving husband Darrin from the TV show Bewitched.

  But the fragrance of the steaming gourmet food hit Grace where it truly hurt. Still shaken from the vision, too tired and hungry herself, Grace took one look at Chloe’s wide, shining eyes—and reached for the nearest serving spoon to place small heaps of the delicacies on Chloe’s plate.

  After Chloe had plenty, Grace served herself, took her first bite and was transported with delight.

  Her enjoyment was helped immensely when Mundir finished mopping shortly after the food arrived and disappeared with a sneer. She was grateful when the hostile Djinn left. It was a little difficult to try to eat while he cleaned her kitchen floor.

  Who was she kidding? She would have wanted to eat that breakfast in the middle of tornado warnings with smoke alarms going off. The fact that she relaxed and stuffed herself in Khalil’s presence kind of proved her own point.

  Oh gods, the smoked salmon.

  She gave Max his bottle, and he drank contentedly while she savored each bite of the rich, exquisitely prepared food. While she had accessed the Oracle’s Power only a few times since she had inherited it, she found the stories her grandmother and Petra had told her about the aftermath were true. She felt shaky, like she was loosely attached to the physical world. Eating breakfast helped to anchor her more fully in her body. The intensity of the vision faded, and the reality of her own life came to the forefront of her mind where it belonged. She set the whole experience aside, to examine it later. For now she focused on the children and the present.

  Khalil lounged in his chair, a massive, regal figure, his presence crackling against her hypersensitive awareness. She watched him out of the corner of her eye. His arms were thick, and his chest was wide with the appearance of muscles. He watched Chloe eat, his radiant eyes lit with an indulgent expression. He chatted with the little girl, asked her questions about her doll and friends, and from time to time he sipped coffee or chose to sample a bite from one of the dishes. Once or twice he glanced at Max with a slight smile.

  Did his smile hold a touch of wistfulness? She thought of his brief, tragic statement about his daughter who had sustained some kind of damage and had apparently not recovered from it. For a moment he had shown an immense rage and deep grief before his expression smoothed over.

  He clearly liked creating mischief, and he carried more arrogance in his little finger than anybody else she had ever met. But she did not sense any true malevolence in his actions. Despite his acerbic and high-handed manner, all in all he had treated her far better than she had expected.

  Then there were the children. They were her anchor, her terrifying responsibility, and now somehow they had become a bridge to this Powerful creature.

  Aware of their bargain, she said hesitantly, “Would you like to hold Max?”

  Surprised pleasure lit Khalil’s hard face. He said, “If the small gentleman would deem that acceptable.”

  “Let’s see, shall we?” she said. “He’s pretty easygoing, and he likes people.”

  She handed Max over to Khalil, sticky banana-coated hair, bottle and all. Max grinned, kicked his legs and burbled conversationally. Khalil held the baby straight out in both hands, staring at him. Now that he actually had hold of Max, he seemed frozen and unsure about what to do.

  Grace covered her mouth to hide her smile. She suggested, “Set him on your lap.”

  Khalil’s gaze shifted to hers. He settled the baby on his lap. Max leaned back against his arm, tilted his bottle up and waved a foot in the air as if drinking his bottle while hanging out with a Djinn was an everyday occurrence. Grace patted the baby’s shoulder. She might be biased, but she thought her nephew was one pretty-cool guy.

  “Do you think he likes me?” Khalil asked, his black brows drawn together.

  His uncertainty was so unexpectedly endearing, Grace bit her lip. She opened her mouth to reply, but her niece beat her to it.

  “Sure,” said Chloe as she chewed on the end of a sausage. “I like you too. But I’d like you better as a horsie.”

  Khalil grinned, and Grace murmured warningly, “Chloe.”

  “What?” Chloe said, wide-eyed again. “Was that bad?”

  Grace noticed that Chloe wasn’t really eating the sausage, just chewing on the end of it. “Are you done eating?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Then stop chewing on that. It’s time for you to have that bath.” She stared at all the food on the table. It could wait for fifteen minutes. She would put it away after she got the kids clean. She turned to Khalil. “Thank you so much for breakfast.”

  He looked resigned. “You are welcome.”

  She gave him an evil grin as she nudged Chloe. “Come on, honey. Say thank you to Khalil for the pancakes.”

  Chloe knew how to turn on the charm. She gave Khalil a high-watt beam worthy of a beauty-pageant queen. “Thank you!”

  Khalil held Grace’s gaze as he returned her smile, his own laced with a grudging amusement. Then he turned his attention to Chloe. He said to the little girl, “You are welcome. Did you enjoy them?”

  “Yes!”

  “I’m glad.”

  Grace held out her arms for Max, and Khalil handed the baby over to her. “Well,” she said, somewhat awkwardly. What now? Should she tell him to go, only much more nicely than she had before? “I really appreciate you coming when I called.”

  He gave her an exasperated glare. “Shut up.”

  She hadn’t actually meant to tease that time, so she burst out laughing. Sobering quickly, she said to Chloe, “It’s not okay to tell someone to shut up. It’s very rude, especially if they’re only trying to be nice.”

  Chloe rolled her eyes. “Even I know that.”

  A clean kitchen floor, and an excess of caffeine and carbohydrates, must have gone to Grace’s head. Feeling giddy with her own mischief, she turned back to Khalil and told him, “So you should actually apologize to me.”

  His eyes widened. He looked from Grace to Chloe’s upturned, expectant expression, then back to Grace again. She thought for the first time since they had become ac-quainted, real respect entered his expression. “I apologize for telling you to shut up,” he said gravely, while his gaze promised her some kind of retribution for her impudence.

  But he would not do anything to hurt either her or the children. He had said so, and his associations and his word meant everything to him. No wonder Djinn considered information to be so valuable they would trade for it. Grace blinked at him with a creamy, innocent smile and once again chose the dumb route to Damascus.

  “Why don’t you make yourself useful and clean up the kitchen while I bathe the kids?” she said to the Djinn prince of the House Marid.

  Retribution? He could bring it.

  She took the children to their bedroom to gear up for the bath. Chloe could carry her own summer outfit, shorts and a daisy-patterned T-shirt, along with Max’s diaper and a shirt that read: BAD TO THE BONE. They would be getting another wash in the kitchen sink.

  She wanted to find a way to make the upstairs more accessible. Some of that would come as her leg strengthened, which was a good thing since Max got bigger and heavier every day. She grabbed baby shampoo, a washcloth and a towel from the cabinet in their room that she used as a linen closet.

  The safety gate at the bottom of the stairs had a frame that could be left pinned in place while part of it opened like a real gate. When she had the funds, she could get a second gate to put at the top of the stairs. Then they both could stay fastened in place, and she wouldn’t have to keep hauling one gate up and down the stairs. She added a second gate to her wish list, along with getting Chloe a twin bed, although moving a dresser downstairs on Saturday topped the list.r />
  Chloe scampered ahead of her and rounded the corner to the kitchen. With Max on her hip, Grace paused to tuck Cuelebre’s card carefully in her spiral-bound phone book in the living room then joined Chloe. Of course the kitchen was still a mess, and Khalil was nowhere in sight.

  That surprised Grace. Not the mess—she had expected that he would ignore her cheeky order to clean up the kitchen, but she could have sworn she still sensed Khalil’s presence, and she had been geared up to continue their argument.

  Frowning, she bathed the children with swift efficiency. She set Max on the clean floor afterward while Chloe skipped off to play in the living room.

  Then she turned her attention to the kitchen table. There was quite a bit of food left over, and a lot of it would freeze well. She put it away, enjoying the thought of a few easy, delicious meals.

  Had Ismat paid for all this food, or had she simply whisked into the restaurant and taken whatever dish she fancied? If Djinn went around stealing things all the time, they would be prosecuted like any other thief—but the trick would be to catch them.

  And was Grace really going to look that gift horse in the mouth? She decided not to this time, especially since she had eaten and enjoyed so much of the evidence.

  Apparently she also now owned several gleaming metal serving platters, complete with lids, along with four heavy linen napkins. Once the serving platters were clean, she stacked them and set them aside on the counter until she could figure out what to do with them. Maybe she could sell them or give them to somebody. Katherine would enjoy having them, but Grace wasn’t sure she wanted to explain how she got them in the first place.

  Then she paused to assess the area. Damn, she could have sworn she still felt Khalil’s presence. Pretending to more confidence than she really had, she said telepathically, I know you’re here.

  Did somebody just sigh in her ear? Khalil replied, I still wish to discuss your vision, but not in front of the children.

  She hunched her shoulders. She didn’t want to think of what happened earlier or remember the voice from her vision. She would rather pick a fight with him and pretend everything was fine. Reluctantly, she said, Come back when they’re asleep.

  Yes, said Khalil. His presence faded.

  Grace expanded her awareness. She felt nothing unusual, either in the house or on the property, just the faded edges of the occasional ghost. This time she really was alone, except for the children. It had become just another normal summer morning.

  She told herself she was all right with that as she listened to the silence.

  7

  Figuring out which bills to pay was a bit of a joke.

  Grace put Max down for a morning nap, started a load of the never-ending pile of laundry and built Chloe a “castle” in the living room with a sheet spread over the back of the armchair and across one of the straight-backed chairs she brought in from the kitchen.

  While Chloe played happily in her castle with Lala Whoopsie and several stuffed animals, Grace looked through the bills twice. She came up with the same answer both times. Keep the water, electric and phone bills paid. All the medical bills got stacked on top of a neat, growing pile. She put student loan deferment notices in another pile. Each one was like the ticking of a time bomb that would eventually blow up in her face. Then, her stomach in a clench, she spent a half hour calling around to bankruptcy lawyers. Fun times.

  She folded laundry, looked through her unfinished senior history project and set it down again, fed the children lunch and found the note in her purse about calling Katherine to set up a time when Joey and Rachel could come over for a playdate. Feeling guilty about asking Katherine to babysit yet again, Grace picked up the phone and stepped into the kitchen so Chloe couldn’t hear the conversation. No point in getting Chloe excited if Katherine couldn’t take them. She hit Katherine’s number on speed dial.

  Katherine picked up on the third ring. “Gotta love caller ID,” she said. “Hi, Grace, how are you doing?”

  Grace could hear the cheerful shouts of children in the background. She said, “Hi, Katherine, we’re doing all right. I know you’re working, so I want to keep this brief. Is there any chance you could take Chloe and Max on Saturday? The second quarterly work day is coming up, and last time I had a hard time keeping track of them while I dealt with everybody’s questions about what needed to be done.”

  “Of course,” said Katherine immediately. “You know how much I love them. Why don’t they spend the night as well? That way you can just crash when everybody leaves.”

  Grace felt a rush of love for the older woman. Katherine had grieved almost as hard as she had at Petra’s death. Katherine was always willing to help out in any way she could, while Grace’s friends had drifted away after the accident. Grace tried not to take it personally. Her friends were as young as she was, and when Grace had taken on the children, she had been catapulted into a completely different reality from theirs. Still, the lack of connection with her old friends felt like an abandonment.

  “That’s so good of you,” Grace said to Katherine, her voice thick with emotion. She would pack up the serving platters and give them to Katherine as a thank-you, and if Grace had to explain how she got them, so be it. “I wanted to ask you about something else too. I’m looking to trade Chloe’s toddler bed to someone for a twin-sized one. Would you be willing to tell the parents of your daycare kids, to see if any of them might be interested?”

  “Be delighted to,” said Katherine. “I’m sure we’ll find someone who’ll be happy to trade.”

  “Great, thanks so much,” Grace said. “Can I bring the kids over at eight? The work day is supposed to start at nine, and that will give me time to get ready.”

  “You bet.”

  Grace ended the call quickly and turned her attention to other things. She washed the lunch dishes. Their stack of library books were due in a few days. She bagged and set them by the front door. Then she put the kids down for an afternoon nap. That sent Chloe into another meltdown, and when things finally quieted down, Grace did her physical therapy exercises. After that she worked on her resume. She had two versions going. One of them listed her actual college credits. The other was a resume built on hope and included the bachelor’s degree she had not yet earned. Louisville was still hurting from the long recession. Jobs were hard to find, and she had to make her resumes look as good as she could.

  Something had to give, somehow, sometime. The law of averages said it had to. Meanwhile, Grace felt like she had been locked in a pressure cooker and set on a burner that was turned on high. It wasn’t going to be a pretty sight when that pressure cooker exploded.

  She hit another wall, staggered to the couch, and a black hole sucked her down again. She slept hard, and when she woke a half hour later, the house was still silent. When she checked on the children, she found both still sleeping.

  My goodness. Could she actually grab some time for herself?

  She went to the kitchen and used the leftover coffee from that morning to make herself a glass of iced coffee, then she sat to stare blankly at the clean table.

  She wondered what her high school friend Jacqui was doing this summer. The last time they had talked, Grace had just gotten home from the hospital. Jacqui had stopped by the house to say hi. The visit was awkward. Grace watched as Jacqui looked everywhere in the living room except at Chloe and Max, who were playing on the floor. Jacqui said she couldn’t stay long because she had to study for a test the next day, then she looked stricken. After that, they had exchanged a couple of e-mails. Then silence. Grace wondered if Jacqui was even still in the area or if she had gotten a job somewhere else after graduation.

  The ghosts were silent. Nothing moved, either in the house or outside. The summer heat blanketed the land like a lover.

  She didn’t want to have quiet time to herself. She didn’t want to think about that terrible vision, not when she was alone. She closed her eyes, wrapped her arms around herself and huddled in her chair.
r />   This time when Khalil appeared, he did so gently. His presence curled into the kitchen like a tendril of soft breeze. Her heart leaped, but not from irritation. She opened her eyes and turned in her chair and tried not to show how glad she was that he had come.

  Khalil wore black, and once again his long raven hair was pulled back. The afternoon sun slanting through the kitchen window touched his ivory features with gold. His regal face was grave, contemplative. For a moment he looked like a sculpture created by one of the masters, his impossibly graceful form freed forever from priceless marble by Michelangelo’s genius.

  She cleared her throat. “I thought you were coming tonight.”

  He walked toward her, pulled out a chair and sat down. “You said to come when the children were asleep. They are. You have also rested.”

  Just as before, he filled the entire house with his presence. She took a deep breath and let go of the tension that had built up between her shoulder blades throughout the day. She asked, “How did you know I rested?”

  “I checked in earlier. You were asleep on the couch.” His too-keen diamond gaze focused on her face.

  She nodded and looked away, feeling awkward under his scrutiny. She could waste time feeling strange about him looking in the house when she was asleep, but that seemed like a little too much, too late, when he’d already shown he didn’t have human sensibilities or boundaries.

  What should she say or do now? Her social skills were not the most refined at the best of times, and she had no idea how to behave with him if they weren’t sniping at each other. She noticed her glass of iced coffee, sweating rivulets of moisture in the heat of the day, and she started to rise to her feet. “I’ll get you a drink. What would you like?”

  His hand came around her bicep. She looked sideways at the long ivory fingers curled around her arm as he eased her back down into her chair. “I do not require refreshment,” he said. “We must discuss what happened this morning.”

  She nodded again. He had not removed his hand from her arm, and she decided not to remind him of that. His grip felt heavy and reassuring. She noticed again how hot his touch was, as if his presence was a fire his skin barely contained. With her free hand, she touched her cold, sweating glass then took a quick swallow.