Thea Harrison - Oracle's Moon

In all of his associations, Khalil thought, very few would call him friend.

How had Grace known to align her energy with his yesterday? Her surprise seemed to indicate she had done so by accident. He had dismissed her so cavalierly at first. He was shocked at how much there was to discover about her. He thought of how she had felt, her psychic presence resting against his, feminine and complex, with layers of Power, both old and young. It had been delicious, exotic, surprising and enticing. Sexual.

Remembering it, he held himself under tight control.

Pleasant supper smells wafted through the shabby, comfortable house. Chloe grew restless and wriggled out of his lap to run to the kitchen. She announced, “I’m hungry!”

“Hello, Hungry, I’m Grace,” said Grace. “Nice to meet you.”

Chloe giggled, and Khalil smiled. He rested his cheek on the top of Max’s head. The boy had a strong, light energy and a kernel of Power that was like a rosebud waiting for the right season to unfurl. His wispy tuft of hair smelled like clean baby. Khalil approved of this little man. Very much so.

Grace said behind him, “Dinner’s ready.”

He nodded, set the children’s books aside and carried Max into the kitchen.

The room was complicated. He paused to take it all in. The table was set simply with three place settings. Each plate had a few slices of apple. There was a fragrant central dish that, if Khalil didn’t miss his guess, looked like broccoli, rice and cheese. Chloe’s place had a small glass of milk. The other two plates had glasses filled with ice and a brown, clear liquid. A bowl had been set on the table in front of Max’s high chair. It was filled with different colors of goop. Khalil had no idea what was in that bowl; he assumed it must be food.

Khalil turned his attention to Grace. Her red-gold hair was disheveled, and her cheeks were touched with a healthy faint blush, a far better color than her chalky complexion of the last couple of days. He guessed her earlier paleness had stemmed from exhaustion. The shadows on her face had eased as well. She was barefoot and wore a yellow tank top, along with short, dark green pants that just covered her scarred knees. The pants emphasized her slender ankles and arched, graceful feet. She was not wearing the knee brace, so her leg must not be not causing her as much discomfort. He was glad to see that.

Really, she was well formed all over, with high, small breasts, a long, narrow waist and a flat stomach that flared gently into rounded hips. All in all, her physical form was entirely pleasing to gaze upon.

He remembered how shapely her lean, muscled legs had been, except for the livid red scars. He was suddenly angry on her behalf. The physical damage from the accident might be permanent, but it had been wholly avoidable, if only she’d had access to Powerful medical care. Now she would have to suffer some kind of limitation, if not outright discomfort or pain, for the rest of her brief life.

Then he remembered another thing. She had said, I didn’t have health insurance or the money to pay for that kind of treatment. He looked around with a new perspective, noting the signs of age and wear in the furnishings. He remembered the page on the Oracle’s website that explained donations. It even had a PayPal button. Why did Grace not have enough money?

He had visited often enough now to realize that, while at times the house might be cluttered with the business of dealing with small, active children and daily life, underneath the clutter, it was clean.

His scrutiny must have grown too prolonged, because her pretty, fine-boned face grew self-conscious. She gestured awkwardly at the table. “I know you said you don’t need physical refreshment,” she said. “But you seemed to enjoy nibbling at things and drinking coffee yesterday at breakfast, so I set a place for you.”

She was not only poor, she was generous. He smiled at her. “Thank you,” he said.

Her gaze widened.

He murmured, “Maybe that phrase isn’t quite so bad after all, as long as it isn’t overused, as some people are wont to do.”

“I can’t believe I just heard someone use wont in a sentence with a straight face,” she murmured back.

He laughed. “Will you show me how to fasten Max into his seat?”

Her vivid eyes sparkling, she did just that. He slipped the baby into place and secured the fastening. Chloe had clambered into her seat. She was already eating a slice of apple. Grace gave the girl a strange look. However, she said nothing. Instead she picked up the serving spoon and served Chloe first. She offered a spoonful to Khalil, who nodded. He was curious to taste what they would be eating. Grace served herself last. She sat in her chair by Max and began to feed him bites of the colorful goop.

Khalil tasted his own small serving of supper. He was correct. It was creamy cheese, broccoli and rice, simple and actually quite tasty. He took another bite and said telepathically to Grace, I did not understand the expression on your face just now as you looked at Chloe.

She glanced at him, eyes dancing. Little Miss is on her very best behavior. You should feel flattered. She’s even eating her apple slices. Holy moly, she just took a bite of broccoli. Pay no attention to me while I faint.

He chuckled and looked at Chloe. The little girl sat very straight. She chewed vigorously with a beatific smile. He said to her, “I like libraries too.”

That opened a floodgate. Chloe didn’t stop talking. He learned about story time, and somebody named Katherine, and also other people named Joey and Rachel, and something strange he really didn’t understand, because it was a person and yet not, and it seemed to have adventures in a castle in the living room.

There was no castle in the living room. This had to be a product of her imagination. The odd person/not-person was a Lalaloopsy—

Grace interrupted. “Wait, your doll is called a Lalaloopsy?”

“Uh-huh,” Chloe said.

Grace muttered, “I thought it was Lala Whoopsie.”

Well, that explained that. Sort of.

And Chloe took off again. She very much needed and wanted a big bed now, and waiting was terribly hard even for big people, and would Khalil read…she meant, would he help her read another book after supper?

“Yes,” he said. He exchanged an amused glance with Grace as Chloe bounced in her seat with excitement.

He honored the gift of the apple slices on his plate by eating them. They were crisp, crunchy and tart. Then he drank the brown liquid. He discovered that it was iced tea, refreshing and cold. Max dribbled goop out of his mouth and giggled. Every once in a while, Grace looked at Khalil. She did so surreptitiously, out of the corner of her eye, as if she didn’t want to be caught showing any kind of interest.

Each glance reminded him of how entertaining it had been to flirt with her, tease her and indulge his sense of mischief. He could sense feathery, delicate touches as she reached out psychically to touch his presence. She always withdrew again almost immediately. She didn’t appear to realize that he could sense every time she did it, and she couldn’t possibly know how erotic that was. It was as if she trailed her fingers very lightly along his bare skin. Aroused, he clenched down hard on himself, and his self-control turned fierce.

And he loved all of it.

Somehow the evening slipped away. He was not quite sure how it happened. At one point he looked down to discover his small serving of supper had disappeared from his plate. Max accidentally knocked over his bowl of food. The expression of openmouthed surprise on the baby’s face was so comical, the rest of them burst out laughing. Grace cleaned up the mess. There wasn’t much to clean up, since Max had been close to the end of his meal anyway.