Thea Harrison - Oracle's Moon

Cuelebre knelt on her other side, staring at her. His rough-hewn features looked bloodless, his gold eyes molten.

“Stop,” she croaked to Khalil. “I’m here. I’m back.”

Looking wild-eyed, he stopped.

“What the unholy fuck was that?” Cuelebre asked. He sounded quite calm and utterly terrifying.

Grace shook her head. “I have no idea,” she said. “All I know is that the Oracle’s Power roused for you, and that just doesn’t happen, unasked in daylight.” She shuddered. “Did you hear a…really bad voice?” Khalil’s arms tightened, and the two males exchanged a glance.

“We both heard it,” said the dragon.

“I was in the kitchen with the children,” said Khalil. His own voice did not sound pure in that moment. Instead he sounded rough and shaken. “And I still heard it.”

Grace sucked in a breath. “They didn’t, did they?”

Khalil shook his head. “No. They were unaware.”

Cuelebre looked at Khalil. “I must get back to my mate. You are staying?”

“Yes,” said Khalil.

Cuelebre dug into his shirt pocket and handed a heavy white card to her. She turned it over to look at both sides. There was no name, just a phone number printed in heavy, embossed black. Cuelebre said, “That’s my personal cell number. Call me immediately if you see anything else.”

She nodded numbly and tucked the card into the pocket of her cutoffs.

As Grace and Khalil watched, Cuelebre stood and walked away without another word. Several feet away he shimmered into his dragon form and launched into the air.

Grace shuddered again. She whispered, “I can never let this Power go to Chloe. She can’t ever know anything as horrible as that voice.”

If anything, Khalil looked even wilder. He picked her up in his arms, stood and with long, swift strides he carried her into the house. He said, “So be it. We protect the child from whatever that was at all cost.”

When they were in the living room, she said, “Stop.”

He stopped instantly.

“Please put me down,” she said.

He didn’t move. He said slowly, “You fell.”

“I didn’t hurt myself,” she told him. “I just lost my balance in the vision. And I will not frighten the kids because you’re carrying me, and it looks like something might be wrong.”

He stared at her, his mouth tight. After a moment he let her legs slide to the floor but kept his arms around her. When she straightened and pulled away, he let her go and followed her into the kitchen.

They found Chloe on her hands and knees. A plastic gallon milk container lay on its side on the floor, in a lake of white liquid. The lid had been removed, and the container was nearly empty. It had been almost full at supper the evening before. Sodden paper towels lay in heaps everywhere.

Grace stopped in her tracks so suddenly Khalil ran into her. He grabbed her shoulders to steady her.

“Oh, Chloe,” Grace said. “That was our only gallon of milk.”

Chloe looked up, wide-eyed. “I didn’t do it. I found it this way!”

Max turned around in his seat. He was sucking on one of the Lala Whoopsie doll’s feet.

Khalil muttered something under his breath in what sounded like an alien language. He said aloud, “I only left them for a few minutes.”

“I will clean up the floor, honey,” said Grace in a strangled voice. “And then I will make you those pancakes I promised. I swear it. Just please, pretty please with sugar sprinkled on top—please let me have a cup of coffee first.”

“No,” said Khalil.

He surprised himself. He hadn’t meant to speak, but he looked from Chloe, who was trying not to cry, to Max in his high chair. The baby wore a worried, confused expression. Clearly Max knew something was wrong. Khalil still gripped Grace’s slender shoulders. He could feel her muscles quivering, and somehow the word just fell out of his mouth.

He released her as she turned, and all three of them, Chloe, Max and Grace, stared at him. He said to Grace telepathically, You asked me to stay with the children, and I didn’t. This is mine to address.

She looked at him gravely. He noticed again the rich flecks of azure, jade and honey brown in her eyes, and for the first time, he realized with surprise that she was actually beautiful.

The fear she had shown outside still shadowed her gaze. He added, more gently, We will talk of what happened at a later time when the children are not around. Yes?

She nodded hesitantly. All right.

For now, sit , he said. Take time to recover.

She did not protest, and he thought it was a measure of how the vision had shaken her. He looked at Chloe. “Come over to the table. Sit with your aunt. I will clear away this mess and…I will achieve pancakes.”

Grace’s lovely, tired face wobbled with what looked suspiciously like mirth, but she had been under so much stress he decided his first impression could not be correct. “You’ll achieve pancakes?”

“I do not see why not,” he said.

“Have you ever achieved them before?” she asked. A touch of liveliness came back into her vivid eyes, and they sparkled.

“That question is irrelevant,” he told her, while his eyes narrowed in suspicion on her tired face. On a Djinn, her expression would definitely be laughter. “I will achieve pancakes now.”

Grace turned to Chloe. “I’m the one who made the promise. Is it all right with you if Khalil cooks pancakes instead of me?”

“Uh-huh,” Chloe said. She hopped to her feet and splashed through the milk puddle to reach Grace. Liquid soaked the hem of her nightgown.

“You are both getting another bath after breakfast,” Grace said. She picked up Chloe and set her in her booster seat then tiptoed around the milk to pour a cup of coffee.

“I never said I was going to cook,” Khalil corrected.

Two sets of dismayed female eyes turned to him. He was at a loss to pick which of them looked more betrayed, and he had to bite back his own smile. He told the youngest female, “Do not jump to hasty conclusions. Just watch. You will get your pancakes. I have said it.”

He was unsure whether the little girl understood either “hasty” or “conclusion,” but she seemed to get the gist of what he had said, for she smiled and looked eager. Grace looked much more skeptical. Out of the corner of his eye, Khalil watched as she quickly prepared a bowl of something that looked sticky and white, like porridge. The baby began to bounce in his high chair and squeal. Grace took her coffee and the bowl to the table, and began feeding Max his breakfast.

Khalil wanted to tease Grace awhile longer and watch her too-pale face flush with temper, but he could not bring himself to put Chloe through any more waiting. He turned his attention to the vast, invisible web of connections that surrounded him. Reckoned in Djinn terms, his wealth was immense. Many Djinn from all five Houses owed him favors, and many creatures other than Djinn did also.

He chose one of the oldest connections in his web. It led to Mundir, an elder in House Gul who had owed him a favor for millennia. Khalil plucked the strand politely. He sensed the other Djinn in the distance, bristling in surprise, but Mundir streaked toward him at once. The other Djinn co-alesced in front of him. Mundir’s physical form looked like a slender human male teenager, with blonde hair and arrogant, starred eyes that revealed his inhumanity.

Khalil disliked Mundir. He asked, “Are you able to pay your debt?”

Mundir curled his lip. The dislike was mutual. “Of course.”

Khalil smiled at the other Djinn. The debt had been a long inconvenience for Mundir, and holding it over his head had been most enjoyable. Now it was time for another pleasure. “You will clean this kitchen floor with…” He looked at his small nest of human birds, who were staring openmouthed at the new arrival. Khalil asked Grace, “What does one use to clean a kitchen floor?”