Thea Harrison - Oracle's Moon

Margie glanced at her brother then said, “I don’t mind you asking. It’s both things, really. I—you were right, it’s too soon for me. Then the thought of having to go down in some dark cave is too much like going into his grave.”

Grace winced at the imagery and the pain so evident behind it. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Remember, you can always come back when you’re ready.”

“I’d like that,” Don said. “Maybe we’ll be in a better place in a couple of weeks.”

“Just e-mail me if you would like to come back. Maybe next time we can try to connect with your father without going into the cavern,” Grace said. “As long as you keep in mind I can’t promise anything, I’d be willing to try if you are.”

Margie’s eyes filled. “Thank you,” said the older woman. “Thank you so much.”

Grace nodded, feeling awkward in the face of so much raw gratitude.

Looking as awkward as she felt, Don handed her an envelope. She could see cash through the paper. She gave him a small smile as she folded the envelope and slipped it into the pocket of her capri pants.

Then they walked back to the front of the property, mostly in silence. Neither Don nor Margie seemed inclined to small talk, and Grace had more than enough on her mind.

She needed to digest what had happened, to consider what it might all mean.

The ghost had said the woman she had bitten had gone mad. Had the woman been too mad to comprehend what had really happened or explain it to her children? How many of Grace’s family traditions were because her ancestors didn’t understand where the Power had come from or why they couldn’t control it? Had any of them tried to exorcise the ghost before and failed? Would Grace be able to call the Oracle’s Power at will? She needed to practice, to see how much control she could establish over it. Now that it was hers—really hers—did that mean it wouldn’t pass on to Chloe or to some other child? Would it die with her? What did a mere mortal do with an immortal Power?

Was she…still mortal? The possible implications were enormous.

They reached the driveway. She said good-bye to Don and Margie, and watched as they climbed into a Ford pickup. When they pulled onto the road, Grace took a deep breath and turned to the house.

That was when she sensed Khalil. His presence seethed.

He was in the house. With Therese. And he was very, very angry.

Well, crap.

Grace hurried to the house and climbed the porch steps as fast as she could. As she reached for the screen door, Therese was already on the other side, slamming it open. Grace jerked back. “Whoa, easy there!”

Therese was a pretty woman in her midthirties, and usually she had what Grace privately liked to call Snow White coloring—very dark hair, pale skin, and a full mouth Therese emphasized with red lipsticks. At the moment the older woman’s creamy skin was flagged with two bright spots of hectic color.

“You have a Djinn in your house!” Therese hissed. “I heard one showed up the other day, but I thought he had left!”

Like any other small, tightly knit community, witches gossiped. The percentage of humans who were born with Power was low, and often the ability tended to run in families. The number of those who pursued and received training for their Power was even lower, even in their own demesne. At the last census, those who claimed to have received training in witchcraft were under six thousand.

The coven grapevine was notorious, so Grace shouldn’t have been surprised Janice had talked about Carling, Rune and Khalil, but Therese’s acidic tone roused Grace’s own temper.

Grace looked inside. Khalil stood with his feet planted apart and his arms folded. He was still in the black tunic and trousers from earlier, his eyes incandescent. He looked enormous and murderous.

“He is a friend of mine,” she said sharply. “And I knew he was stopping by. I just forgot to tell you.” She had meant to say she was sorry for not remembering to tell the other woman, but she would be damned if she apologized now.

Therese cast a wide-eyed look over her shoulder as well. She switched to telepathy. And you allow him around the children? Are you CRAZY?

Khalil wasn’t the only one suffering from a touch of bigotry. Grace snapped back, Stop talking about him like he’s a wild dog or an infestation.

Therese’s eyes flashed. Fine. I would have thought you had more sense than that, but suit yourself. They’re not my kids.

That last was so callous, Grace’s expression turned cold. She said between her teeth, “I’m crossing you off the roster. Don’t come back.”

“Don’t worry,” said Therese. “I won’t.”

As the other woman flounced down the driveway to her car, Grace looked inside again. Max sat at Khalil’s feet, fingering Khalil’s black shoes curiously. He was oblivious to the tension between the adults. Also oblivious, Chloe was busily looking through her new pile of library books on the living room bookcase.

Khalil’s eyes blazed. He said to her, I caught that woman going through your things.

Caught totally off guard, Grace blinked. What?

He repeated, When I arrived, the woman was rifling through the papers on your desk.

Digging through her things? What the hell.

Even as he spoke and Grace tried to process what he said, Chloe grabbed two of the books. She ran back to Khalil, chattering. “See what I got today? I can read them if you help.”

Grace watched again as a remarkable transformation happened. Khalil looked down at the children, and his elegant face gentled. His rage vanished as though it had never existed. He told the little girl, gravely, “I would be honored to assist you.”

Chloe beamed at him. “Does that mean you’ll help?”

“Indeed,” said Khalil. He bent down to pick up Max. His tremendous hands were exquisitely careful as he handled the baby.

A new surge of fury and outrage clogged Grace’s throat as, behind her, Therese’s car door slammed.

Digging. Through her things.

Beyond the outrage was a sense of violation, a trust that had been broken.

She checked to make sure Chloe wasn’t watching her. Then she put her hand behind her back and stuck out her middle finger. Fuck you, Therese.

Therese’s car peeled out of the driveway with more force than was necessary, or maybe Grace imagined it.

She looked at the kids. She thought of them playing innocently while Therese snooped around. What else had the other woman done? Grace’s hands clenched, and a muscle in her jaw began to tick.

She opened the door and stepped inside. She tried to move as carefully as she could, because it felt like her rage was flowing off her body in waves. Max greeted her by blowing a happy raspberry. The smile she tried to give the baby felt more like a grimace.

Khalil glanced at her as he sat in the armchair. He settled Max on one leg and lifted Chloe, books and all, into his lap as well. Chloe folded her body up, perching on his other leg as naturally as if they had read together thousands of times before.

She could have hurt them , Grace said to Khalil. She could have done anything.

Khalil said, She did not. They are well.

The little girl eagerly opened her top book and pointed to the page. “What does this say?”

Khalil bent his head and began to read.

Grace watched them for a moment. They were a strange yet wonderful sight. If she apologized to anyone, she felt she owed it to Khalil for forgetting to let him know Therese would be babysitting. But she had only found out about Therese snooping because she had forgotten and Khalil had shown up unannounced.