Oracle's Moon er-4

by Thea Harrison

She was trembling all over. He tilted her face up and kissed her gently, savoring her soft lips and the core of steel inside her and how she kissed him back.

  “I am so proud of you,” he said from the back of his throat. “And don’t think I’ve forgotten you never called me when Phaedra showed up, even after you promised. I am still pissed all to hell at you for that.”

  “Hold on a sec,” she murmured. “I might need to gasp and bite my nails.”

  “Gracie,” he said between his teeth.

  She buried her face in his chest. “I know, you’re never going to let me forget it.”

  “That’s right.” He cupped the back of her head and held her. “I have to ask. Are all the Oracle’s moons going to be like this?”

  She pulled back and stared at him. She looked horrified. “Gods, I don’t know. They’d better not be.”

  21

  After the confrontation with Soren, Khalil had lost his taste for the hunt. Not that it mattered. Once the coven had lost their ability to operate in secrecy, it became a bug hunt. Twelve bugs after Therese were apprehended, and the biggest cockroach was Brandon Miller. Jaydon Guthrie, for whom so many crimes had been committed, had known nothing of the attacks. By Monday evening, all the conspirators were in custody.

  Khalil was glad, for Grace’s sake, that not all twelve of the people who had showed up for her work day had been involved in sabotaging her house. All but Olivia had been part of the Humanist Party, but only four on Saturday had been part of the secret coven. The other eight had just been unpleasant.

  “Somehow that’s a bit easier to take, knowing that not everybody on Saturday had been there all day, conspiring to kill me and the kids,” Grace said to Khalil with a shudder.

  “The ones who did are crazy,” Khalil said. “Just like pariahs.”

  Once the conspiracy had been uncovered, all eight from the workday who were innocent, along with Jaydon Guthrie and many others, called or e-mailed to express their outrage and grief at what had happened and to apologize on behalf of the Humanist Party.

  One of them was the babysitter, Janice. When Grace recognized the number on her new cell phone, she almost didn’t pick up, but then she decided otherwise and ended up talking with the older woman for fifteen minutes. “I have certain beliefs,” Janice said, her voice thick with emotion. “We all believe in something. But what that coven did was monstrous, and even though I knew nothing about it, it hurts my heart to think I had any connection at all with them.”

  “I guess it’s hard to understand terrorism in any form,” Grace said. “We just have to learn how to move on now.”

  Isalynn insisted Grace, and by extension Khalil, stay at her house for the foreseeable future. Security had swarmed Isalynn’s neighborhood, and her house was large and comfortable. Grace agreed, and that was the last decision either she or Khalil had to make Sunday evening. After an early supper, a hot shower and the comfort of soft, old clothes that one of the Djinn investigators brought, Grace couldn’t keep her eyes open. While Khalil joined her for the companionship, even he was tired enough to rest, drifting and thoughtless throughout the dark night.

  Once the authorities confirmed that all twelve conspirators were in custody on Monday, the first thing Grace did was call Katherine. Even though nobody believed the children were still in danger, Katherine and John agreed to stay with them in Houston for the week, so that Grace and Khalil could deal with the aftermath of the house fire.

  There were so many details to attend to. The house insurance. Grace also remembered what the ghost of the trucker had said about his accident insurance. An investigation into that was set in motion.

  Khalil had called it—there was no lack of willing help on hand. A half-dozen Djinn were available at any given time. With a few determined Djinn pursuing the issue, they discovered that the trucker had not let his insurance lapse, as the insurance company had at first claimed. Instead, the company had made a mistake in processing his payment. Turned out, the insurance company owed his widow and Grace a settlement. It wouldn’t be a fortune, but it would be a substantial addition to Grace’s growing resources.

  In the meantime, while Chloe and Max were in Houston, Khalil arranged for a leave of absence from his duties, and he and Grace tackled the job of sorting out what might be salvageable from the house. They saved some family mementos, photographs, all the historical papers and journals from previous Oracles that were stored in trunks in the attic, the files and computer, some of the children’s clothes and toys and the summer clothes Grace had stored in the office.

  She chose to keep the rocking chair the children had been rocked in, even though it had been damaged. She wanted to try to repair it, because her grandmother had rocked her and Petra in it as well. Khalil wanted to keep the old leather armchair he sat in to read to the children. It was one of the few physical things he had ever grown attached to. There was nothing else worth salvaging. The structure itself would take an extensive effort to repair, more effort and resources than the house was worth.

  On Wednesday afternoon, they sat for a while on the porch, listened to the wind in the trees, and Grace reminisced. Khalil asked her questions, fascinated by the intimate glimpse into her past. He held her as she wiped her face.

  “It’s kind of a relief,” she said. “I feel so guilty about that. And it hurts too.”

  He could understand it, at least more than he would have been able to before he had met her. This house was where he had stood, looked out the screen door and first felt that magical, precious something.

  “You’re losing another huge piece of your past,” he said.

  Grace nodded. “And I don’t have to fix the roof,” she said.

  He laughed. She put her hands over her face and laughed with him and cried at the same time.

  When they checked the rest of the property, they discovered the cavern had completely collapsed. Out of curiosity more than anything else, Khalil let go of his physical form and flowed around the crumbled nooks and crannies of the tunnel to the wreckage below. There weren’t any pockets of space large enough for a man to stand up in, just shreds of old Power and broken rock. When he emerged, Grace held the one thing from the cabinets important enough to keep, the Oracle’s mask, wrapped in cloth.

  Meanwhile, the Djinn watched Grace and waited. The numbers of Djinn too damaged to heal themselves were relatively low, but those involved profound injuries. Khalil warned them off, telling them Grace needed time to get her basic needs met and to arrange for the children’s welfare before she could start spending energy on trying to heal damaged Djinn.

  By Thursday, Grace herself brought the issue up. “I can’t stand it any longer,” she said to Khalil. “Ebrahim is driving me crazy. I don’t think he’s stopped working once since he showed up on Sunday.”

  Khalil rubbed the back of his neck. He, Ebrahim and three other Djinn had been demolishing the house, while Grace watched. Khalil had taken a break for a few moments to join her. “I will talk with him again,” Khalil said. “I will tell him he must leave until you are ready.”

  “No,” Grace told him. The day was sweltering, and Grace wore another set of loose, dark shorts made of a soft jersey material that Khalil liked, along with a tank top and sandals. The sun had kissed her skin with color. With her red-gold hair and coppery tan, she looked like a slender, vibrant flame. He approved. “I can’t stand that either—the not knowing, I mean. We need to find out if Phaedra was a fluke and whether or not I really can help any other Djinn to heal.”

  He sighed. “Agreed. But after you try with Ebrahim’s mate, you will see no one else for at least two weeks. Katherine and John will be returning with the children on Sunday, and we must still arrange for a place for you—for us—to stay.”

  Grace looked at him sidelong. The corners of her lips curved upward when he said “us,” but otherwise, she made no comment about that. Instead, she muttered, “That’s awfully bossy of you.”

  By then he read her expressions very well indeed
. He took note that she looked relieved, not offended. He called to Ebrahim, who winged toward them immediately. Khalil told him, “Get Atefeh.”

  After one startled look at Grace, Ebrahim whirled away. Khalil watched as Grace braced herself visibly. He laid a hand against her back, and she glanced at him gratefully.

  Then Ebrahim returned with Atefeh, his mate. Atefeh was so damaged, she could not create a physical form for herself, and she struggled constantly to soak in enough nourishment. She hovered in front of Grace, her presence dull and skewed.

  One by one, the other Djinn quit working on the house demolition and joined them. Others appeared silently. Grace glared at the new arrivals, but she didn’t say anything, and they didn’t leave. She turned her attention back to Atefeh, and her expression smoothed, her gaze turning inward. Khalil felt the dark Power rise in her. Silence fell.

  He didn’t know what happened next. He sensed movement that occurred somehow just beyond his awareness.

  Atefeh flexed with a gasp and fell forward. Thinking the Djinn meant to attack or overwhelm Grace, Khalil lunged to pull Grace away and wrap her in a tight protection. But Atefeh was focused on something else, something only she and Grace seemed able to see. Atefeh keened, a sharp sound filled with pain. Her mate Ebrahim emitted a strangled groan in response, his face agonized as he watched her struggle.

  Let me go! Grace said to Khalil. She shoved him with her Power, and he peeled away. She stepped toward the struggling Djinn. “Don’t give up! Don’t try to grab her. Stand still and let her come to you. Try to open up—she has to come inside you.”

  Who was Grace talking about? Khalil couldn’t sense anybody but Grace and Atefeh.

  Afeteh’s presence shuddered and rippled and suddenly flared with brilliance. For a moment, an ebony-skinned woman stood in front of them, eyes incandescent with triumph. She turned to give her mate a fierce smile. Ebrahim lost his physical form and became a piercing white light filled with joy.

  All the other Djinn shouted until the sound rang through the open space.

  Then Atefeh’s smile faded. A moment later, her physical form did too. I can’t hold it any longer, the Djinn said faintly. I must rest.

  Ebrahim’s fierce white light twined with Atefeh. He said to Grace, Thank you.

  You are both welcome, Grace said, even as the two Djinn faded away.

  Grace turned to Khalil, beaming. He laughed, caught her up and spun her around. Then he stood and held her tightly.

  My miracle, he thought. My Grace.

  By Friday, Khalil couldn’t stand it any longer. “I am putting my foot down,” he told Grace at Isalynn’s breakfast table. Even though they had spent the last several nights at Isalynn’s, they never saw anyone but Judith, who took care of the house. Isalynn and her son, Malcolm, had traveled to Washington, but Isalynn had made it very clear before she left that they were to stay for as long as they needed.

  Grace had dressed in capri pants and a sleeveless shirt that buttoned down the front. Khalil chose to form jeans and a T-shirt again. He was growing to like that kind of outfit. Grace rested her chin in her hands as she regarded him. She said, “Putting your foot down?”

  “I can have feet when I choose to.”

  She chuckled. “It’s a very human saying.”

  “Indeed.” He folded the newspaper he had been reading and set it aside.

  “What are you putting your foot down about now?”

  “You make me sound dictatorial,” he said. “Finish your breakfast.”

  She raised her eyebrows pointedly. He smiled at her. He adored his sharp, funny, hotheaded human. “I did not know you had such strong opinions about breakfast.” She finished her toast in a few bites. “I ate that because I wanted to.”

  “No doubt you did,” he replied. “You have worked yourself into exhaustion every single day of this week.” Each night she had, in fact, barely been able to shower and eat a few bites of supper before falling into bed. He always joined her, sometimes in physical form, sometimes wrapped around her in an invisible embrace. “I am putting my foot down about this evening. Our activities today will be light, and we will quit early.”

  The sparkle of humor left her face. “The children are coming home on Sunday. I miss them and want them back, but there’s still so much to do.”

  “I miss the children too,” he said. “But not everything needs to be done this week. Murderers have been arrested; insurance claims have been filed and investigated; we have gone through all of your possessions, sorted documents, put the salvageable things in storage and taken furniture and your car in for repairs—although I still think you should sell your car. We have demolished your house, established a guarantee of freedom for myself, and you have healed two Djinn. Enough, Grace.”

  “I haven’t even started looking at rental properties for a place to stay,” she said. Her expression grew shadowed. “We have to have some place to keep the kids when they return. Furniture shopping. Clothes and toys for the kids. Hell, clothes for me. Kitchen supplies, pots and pans, dishes. A coffeemaker. Coffee for the coffeemaker. Cups to put the coffee in.”

  Speaking of which, he finished his coffee. “Do not trouble yourself in the slightest about any of that. I have arranged everything.”

  Her posture shifted and she bent her head. Instead of resting her chin in the heel of her hands, she now rested her forehead in them. Looking down at the table, she said, “Khalil, these are not the kind of things people arrange and then tell somebody about them afterward.”

  “I do,” he said. Her head came up, and her lovely eyes flashed fire. While he most definitely approved of the fire, he took note of the stress that caused it. “At least temporarily. I have arranged for an extended leave from the Demonkind legislature. I can make up the rest of my two-year commitment afterward. We are going on vacation, Grace. The only thing you need to decide is where.”

  Her expression went blank with amazement. It amused him, but it also twisted him up a little. “But—but…”

  “No ‘buts.’ Humans are always in such a hurry.” He took her hands and looked deeply into her turbulent eyes. “There is more than enough money. You now have resources in your bank account, and the Djinn will never allow you to suffer a lack of funds. I have funds too, quite a lot, last time I looked. There is more than enough time. There is nowhere you need to go, and nothing you need to do right now unless you choose to do it. You and the children are safe, Grace. You are safe now.”

  Her gaze flooded with moisture. She looked stricken.

  He stroked her hair. “You did not even need to decide what to do with all of your possessions right away or what to do with the house. It just seemed to help you come to terms with everything that happened. I’m only sorry there was so much loss.”

  “Vacation,” she said slowly, as if it was a word in a foreign language.

  “Yes. You have three choices. We can join the children at the Four Seasons in Houston. We can check into a hotel suite here in Louisville. I do not recommend that one, since I do not believe you will actually relax if we stay local.”

  She wiped her cheeks. “What is the third option?”

  “Carling and Rune called yesterday evening,” he said. “You were so sound asleep, you didn’t even hear your new cell phone ring, so I answered it. They have leased a beach house just outside of Miami, with the option to buy. Three bedrooms, two baths, a family room, a living room, a fenced-in yard and a deck that faces the ocean. It’s furnished, but Carling said the furniture can be removed if you want your own. They have invited us to use it for as long as we like.”

  “Beach,” she said blankly.

  Of all the strange fortune that had befallen her, it appeared that good fortune was what brought her to a total halt. He said in a gentle voice, “Beach. If you like.”

  “You would come with us?” She searched his gaze.

  “I will always come with you,” he said simply.

  “Where would you like to go?” she asked. “Is there som
e place you would enjoy?”

  He smiled. He liked Paris in the first blush of early morning and snowfall in St. Petersburg on a winter’s night. He liked the hot desert winds of North Africa and the wild open spaces of the Colorado and Mohave deserts, where the Djinn went to dance in the sun-drenched air. He adored following the plunge of water over Niagara Falls and swimming along the serpentine twists of the Amazon River, and he loved contemplating the top of the world along the peaks of the Himalayas, where the air grew thin and riotous infinity lay everywhere.

  But it would not do to overwhelm her too soon. He told her, “I like the sun.”

  She frowned as she studied him. “If we go to Houston, you may not get a real vacation either.”

  He admitted, “That is a good point.”

  Her frown didn’t ease. She said slowly, “I would love to take a vacation, but I also made a promise to a couple of people that I would help them.”

  His eyebrows rose. “Who are they?”

  “You know the petitioners that came the day Therese babysat? They weren’t able to go through with the consultation. They weren’t ready, and the cavern made them uncomfortable. I told them I would be available if they wanted to return.” Grace rubbed the back of her neck. “I need to keep my promise to them. I want to keep my promise.”

  “This is not an issue,” Khalil said. “We will get in touch with them. Whenever they are ready, we’ll get a babysitter, and I can transport you to wherever these people live. That’s assuming you can do without a cavern.”

  “I really think I can,” she said. She met his gaze and smiled. “I like the thought of being able to make a house call. If, that is, they are open to it too.”

  They would discover that Grace could indeed make house calls. She had practiced more with Khalil by the time Don and Margie e-mailed her to ask if she might be available for another consultation. Ismat became the children’s first Djinn babysitter, and Khalil transported Grace to Margie’s home in southern Indiana. Once there Khalil kept a tactful silence and moved into the background as Grace interacted with the middle-aged siblings. Margie invited them into her comfortable home, and they sat at the kitchen table and talked over coffee until both Don and Margie had relaxed. When Grace finally channeled the ghost of Don and Margie’s father, it felt like a natural, gentle progression, and the session was quite healing.