Light rapid footsteps approached, then suddenly the door yanked open. A slim, young human woman stood in the doorway with a baby on her hip. The woman was twenty-three or twenty-four years old, with features that might be classified as more interesting than pretty, and she had short flyaway, strawberry blonde hair. She was disheveled and hollow-eyed, and dressed in shabby plaid flannel pants and an oversized gray T-shirt.
The baby was a boy, perhaps nine months old. He looked as disheveled and hollow-eyed as the woman, his small round face splotchy from crying. For a moment he regarded them with as much curiosity as they regarded him. Then he knuckled one of his ears, turned to plop his face into the woman’s neck, and emitted a ragged, miserable wail.
The woman looked at them with unfriendly eyes. “What the hell are you doing, knocking at someone’s door at three thirty in the morning?”
Carling said, “We’re looking for the Oracle.”
“This couldn’t wait until seven?” the woman snapped. She patted the boy’s small back and bounced him with the kind of tiredness of someone who had been doing the same thing for some time now. “Hell, until six? What’s the matter with you people, anyway? Can’t you see I’ve got a sick baby on my hands? Go away and don’t come back until it’s a decent time.”
Khalil said, “You’re the Oracle?”
The Djinn sounded as surprised as Carling felt, and Rune looked.
“You were expecting a gold shrine and a gaggle of virgins draped in pleated white sheets?” the young woman said. “Yes, I’m the Oracle.”
Carling raised her eyebrows and looked beyond the woman at the train wreck of a living room. A scuffed hardwood floor was covered by an old shabby area rug that was littered with toys. Textbooks and coffee cups were piled on the equally shabby furniture. One armchair held a wicker basket piled high with unfolded laundry. The house smelled like sour baby vomit.
The young woman looked around too.
“I know,” she said with a bitter smile. “Whoop-de-fucking-do, right?”
NINETEEN
Carling said, “You have to give us sanctuary if we ask for it. Let us in.”
The woman’s weary hazel eyes narrowed. “You’re going to pull that card on my ass right now? Really?”
Rune said, “We can go and come back in a few hours.”
Carling glanced at him. His face was white, his lips bloodless. His eyes looked bruised. She shook her head stubbornly. “Do you know who I am?” she asked the Oracle.
The human’s face tightened. “I recognize you,” she said. “At least I know who you and the sentinel are. I don’t know who he is.” She jerked her chin toward Khalil.
“Rune is injured,” she said to the Oracle. “I need to attend to him. As soon as I do that, I can help your boy. If you know who I am, then you know I can do this.”
The Oracle took a second, closer look at Rune, and her expression changed to one of reluctant compassion. She pushed the door open wide and stood back.
Carling didn’t wait for more. She strode into the house, straight over to the armchair to shift the basket of laundry to the floor. “Come on,” she said gently to Rune. “Sit and let me have a look at you.”
Rune walked over to the chair and eased into it. His movements were stiff, without any of his usual grace. Behind them, Khalil strolled into the house. Carling couldn’t begin to figure out what was going through the Djinn’s mind as he looked around the living room with a speculative gaze, nor did she know why he hadn’t yet disappeared. Perhaps he was waiting for his chance to finalize the details of the favor she now owed him.
In any case, she didn’t have the energy to waste on mulling over Khalil’s odd behavior. Instead she knelt in front of Rune and touched his cheek as she whispered a spell that would numb his injury. Immediately the tight lines in his face eased. He gave her a nod in thanks. “I can wait now,” he told her. “Go put the poor kid out of his misery.”
“All right.” She stood again and turned to the Oracle and the sobbing baby. “What’s his name?”
Carling’s mild question opened a floodgate in response. The Oracle said anxiously, “His name’s Max. I think he’s got an ear infection. He was fussy earlier in the evening and didn’t want his supper. Then he woke up crying a couple of hours ago, and he has a fever and he just threw up, and he keeps pulling at his right ear like it hurts. I was just trying to decide if I should take him to an urgent care unit, but his sister Chloe’s sound asleep and it’s just the three of us here and I’d have to either call someone for backup, or set him down to wake Chloe up and get her in the car too—”
Carling shook her head, a little disoriented. In just under ten minutes, they had gone from facing almost certain death in battle to this. She put a hand to the back of Max’s head and numbed his pain as well. The baby’s crying died away. He hiccupped and shuddered, lifting his head from the Oracle’s shoulder to look around in bleary confusion.
“Okay, little man,” Carling murmured. “It’s going to get better now.” She asked the Oracle, “What is your name?”
“Grace,” the Oracle said. “Grace Andreas.”
“The Andreas family has gone through difficult times these last thirty years,” Carling said. A string of ill health and bad luck had decimated what had once been a large, thriving clan. “I was sorry to hear that Petra and her husband died in that car crash. What relation was she to you—was she your aunt?”
“She was my older sister,” Grace said, her hazel eyes reddening. “Chloe and Max are my niece and nephew. We’re the only ones left.”
Carling nodded. She had scanned Max as she and Grace had talked. She said, “You’re right, he has an ear infection. It’s easily taken care of with a simple healing spell, but he’ll be very tired over the next few days.”
Grace nodded, the exhaustion in her expression lightening with relief. “That’s fine, as long as it takes care of the infection. It’s not like he’s got to drive or go to work or anything.”
In spite of the seriousness of her own issues, Carling had to smile. “No, he doesn’t, does he? With your permission, I’ll cast that spell for him now.”
“Please.”
Carling did so and as Grace took the sleepy baby away, she turned her attention back to Rune. He was resting quietly in the armchair, watching her. She knelt in front of him again, glad to see that some color had returned to his complexion.
He gave her a small smile, his eyelids lowered, and said telepathically, I can’t decide which sight of you was more hot, the one where you were getting ready to throw down some kind of Armageddon spell on Julian’s ass, or the one where you just healed that little boy.
She gave a ghost of a chuckle that faded away almost immediately. They had almost died. He had almost died. She closed her eyes and gripped his hand, and his long, strong fingers closed around hers hard.
Time was shoving them faster and faster into a strange, unknown place. The colors may be sharper and truer, and the song notes more piercing, but damn, that fall had been horrific.
“No regrets?” she whispered.
“Not a single one,” he said back, quietly steady. “I will miss my friends, but that does not mean I have any regrets. Now heal my arm and shoulder, so we can get on with what we need to do.”
She set about doing just that, but healing his injuries wasn’t as quick or easy a fix as throwing the healing spell on a sick baby. She had to set the breaks first, and while she had already numbed Rune’s pain, getting the bones into alignment was still intensely uncomfortable for him. He braced himself against it, his teeth gritted. The broken edges of bone in his arm grated as they came together. The sensation made her feel ill.
She was wrung out by the time she was able to throw a healing spell on him. He sighed as the spell sank into his body. He looked as tired as she felt. Then he leaned forward to enfold her in both good arms, and a warm kernel of rightness found its way into her cold, stressed soul. She put her head on his shoulder and they held each other.
/>
“What I want to know is, what kind of trouble did you bring to my doorstep?” asked Grace, who had returned from putting Max to sleep in his crib. Carling lifted her head to look at the other woman. Grace stood just inside the living room. The human was staring at all of Rune’s weaponry. The relief from Max’s healing had disappeared, and fear had taken its place. “And how much danger have you just put my niece and nephew in?”
At that Khalil stirred. The Djinn had moved to one corner of the room to watch everything that happened with his arms crossed. His long raven hair was pulled back severely from his face, and he wore a high-necked black tunic and trousers. He said to Grace, “I cannot speak to what the other two may have brought here. But I will see to it personally that the small ones are not in any danger. You have my word.”
Carling narrowed her eyes on Khalil. That was why he had stayed, instead of blowing off as soon as he had dropped her and Rune on the Oracle’s doorstep. He had heard the baby crying. Oh, Khalil.
Grace gave Khalil a leery glance. “Is that supposed to mean something to me, like your word is somehow supposed to be reassuring? Because it’s not. I might be new to this Oracle gig and I might have a lot to learn, but at least I’ve figured out that you’re a Djinn, which in and of itself is not reassuring in the slightest. And I still don’t know who the hell you are.”
Carling said to her, “Khalil is one of the oldest and strongest of the Demonkind, and if he promises to keep your children safe, he will keep them safe.”
“You’re telling me my kids now have a demon bodyguard?” Grace muttered. “Are you telling me my kids might need a demon bodyguard? That’s just freaking great. That’s the best news I’ve heard all week. All month.”
Khalil raised an eyebrow. Other than that, he looked supremely indifferent to the human’s opinion.
Rune said, “No one will intentionally bring any harm to your children. No matter what our conflicts are, children are precious to us. We don’t put them in harm’s way.”
“I have a problem with the ‘intentional’ part of your statement,” Grace said. “So excuse me if I’m still not reassured. Why are you here?”
“We need to consult with the Oracle, of course,” said Carling.
After that, there was no stopping Grace. She dug out a notebook to consult an on-call roster of phone numbers from the local community of witches. Carling knew that the witches provided help to the Oracle whenever she was called to act in the capacity of her office. It was part of the witches’ tithe to community service, but apparently the help was not enthusiastically given.
“I know it’s not even five in the morning, Janice,” said Grace. “But this is an emergency, you’re next on the roster and you know I need somebody to stay with the children whenever I have to do this.”
The unhappy witch on the other end of the line promised to come right over, and Grace hung up. She said to them, “We can do this as soon as Janice gets here, in about fifteen to twenty minutes.”
Rune said, “We could have waited until morning.”
Grace shook her head. “The laws of sanctuary that are supposed to protect this place only work on those creatures that are law-abiding. How many weapons do you have strapped to your body? After the two guns and the sword on your back, I lost count. The sooner we do this, the sooner you leave and take your trouble with you, and that means the safer we’ll be. Janice is unhappy I got her out of bed. She’ll get over it.”
Khalil scowled. “I could have sat on the children.”
“Sat with the children,” Carling murmured, as she fought the sudden urge to laugh. “With, not on.” She set their two bags at Rune’s feet and shifted toys and a college calculus book to sit on the end of the couch closest to the armchair he occupied.
The others ignored her. Grace said to the Djinn, “Do you have a list of references for all the times you have babysat very small, fragile human children?” She waited a heartbeat. Khalil’s scowl darkened but he remained silent. She continued, “No, I thought not. They didn’t start out as my babies but they’re mine now, and you’re not looking after them.” She paused again as if reconsidering what she had said, then added, “Ever.”
As Khalil spat out an angry comment and Grace snapped back, Rune and Carling looked at each other. “She’s right,” Rune said. “The sooner we leave, the better.”
“I know,” she said quietly. Would Julian pursue their dispute over demesne borders? She would have said no before the confrontation outside of the Fairmont. Now she was no longer sure of anything. “I’m not the one arguing with her.”
Rune worked one-handed to loosen the fastening of one of the armbands. His energy was still roused from what had happened earlier. He appeared calm but felt battle-ready, still burning with an edged anger at both Julian and Dragos. The sensation jumped along Carling’s nerve endings like an ungrounded electrical cord.
He said quietly, “I haven’t had a chance yet to ask you how the examination with Seremela went.”
She held open both empty hands to him, and he offered one forearm to her. “The exam itself wasn’t any surprise,” she told him as she worked to undo the armband fastenings. “The conversation proved useful. She’s really bright. I think she’s a talented pathologist, and you were right about her bringing a unique perspective to the whole thing. We may not find a cure, at least not right away. Our first priority has to be to buy some time.”
“Did you come up with any way how we can?” Rune asked. His head was bent close to hers, his gaze intent on her face.
Carling murmured to him, “I need to try to get in some form of remission. Seremela also took blood to run some tests—”
A sharp staccato knock sounded at the door. Grace threw up her hands in a “We’re done here” gesture at Khalil and turned away from him. Out of the corner of Carling’s eye, she saw Rune put a hand on one of his guns as Grace opened the door to reveal an unhappy, disheveled witch. The woman was middle-aged and comfortably rounded, and wore jeans, sneakers, a hooded University of Kentucky sweatshirt and a sour expression. Grace stood back and let her step into the house. The woman jerked to a halt, her sour expression fading and eyes widening when she took in Rune, Carling and the Djinn.
“You got here in record time,” Grace said to the woman. She sat on the opposite end of the couch from Carling to jam her feet into a battered pair of sneakers. “The kids are in bed where most sane people are right now, and you know how this goes, Janice—it’ll take however long it takes.”
Janice’s fascinated gaze bounced around the room. Then she focused all her attention on Grace. “I’ll make a pot of coffee.”
Khalil crossed his arms and informed Janice, “And we will both sit on the children to make sure they remain safe.”
The older human witch’s eyebrows went up. She stared at Grace, who said, “Pay no attention to anything this Djinn might say to you while we’re gone. I’ve never met him before tonight, and he has no authority to dictate anything here. I don’t think he understands that, so apparently he’s not a very bright one either.”
“And she is an impudent, disrespectful child,” said Khalil between his teeth. “Who does not understand the value of what she has been offered.”
Janice said to Grace with a bright, fixed smile, “In the meantime, you’ll hurry back as fast as you can, right?”
“Right,” Grace said. The bitterness was back in her voice. She turned to Carling and Rune. “Are you ready?”
Rune and Carling exchanged a glance then stood. “Of course,” Carling said. “What do we do now?”
“You come with me.” Grace turned and walked out, leaving the front door open for them to follow.
Rune scooped up their bags and gestured for Carling to precede him. They caught up with Grace, who was waiting for them in the front yard. She led the way around the house and along a well-worn footpath that cut through overgrown grass and a tangled line of trees and undergrowth. After twenty yards or so, the human’s gait turned uneven unt
il she walked with a decided limp.
“How much land do you have?” Rune asked.
“About five acres,” Grace said as she slapped at a mosquito. “The Ohio River runs along the western border of the property. It’s been in the family ever since we came over from Europe in 1856. We couldn’t afford to buy anything like this now. I’m not even sure I’ll be able to pay property taxes when they come due.”
“There is a very old Power here,” Carling said. “Did it come with you to the States?”
Grace sent her a shadowed glance. “Yes,” said the human. She didn’t elaborate further.
She led them across a meadow to an old doorway that had been built into the side of a rocky incline. The sense of an ancient Power grew stronger as she took a small rusted coffee can from the top of the wooden lintel and withdrew a key that she fitted into the weathered wooden door to open it. Rune studied the structure. It looked like the opening to a mine shaft. It must have been constructed when the Andreas family originally settled on the property over a hundred and fifty years ago.
Grace said over her shoulder, “Your weapons are not welcome. You need to leave them here at the doorway.”
“Okay,” Rune said slowly.
Carling had been content to remain silent and study the land during the walk. She could tell by the aggressive spike in Rune’s emotions that he didn’t like the idea of disarming, but he set their two bags by the door then he stripped off his short sword and shoulder holsters with the guns and set them with care on the bags.
“Are we going into a cave?” Carling asked curiously.
“Yes,” Grace said. “There are cave systems all over the area, from Bluespring Caverns, Marengo Cave, and Squire Boone Caverns in southern Indiana to the Mammoth Cave system in central Kentucky. This is a very small system by comparison.”
The human stepped inside the doorway and felt along the inside wall. She flipped a switch and a naked light bulb went on over her head. It revealed an area large enough for them all to step into comfortably with two sturdy Rubbermaid storage cabinets, and a roughly hewn tunnel that sloped downward.
Serpent's Kiss: Elder Races series: Book 3 Page 32