Thea Harrison - Oracle's Moon

Feeling trapped, she fumbled for words. How could she say it? What would make it better? She was no good at this kind of shit. She stopped walking and said bluntly, “Phaedra came to see me.”

His response was electrifying. After a moment of standing frozen, he whirled and grabbed her by the shoulders. His face was savage, and his eyes blazed. He snarled, “ You should have called me. ”

She stammered, “I-I’m sorry. I know how badly you want to see her, I just—”

“Did I not warn you pariahs are dangerous?” he hissed. He actually shook her. “What did she do?”

She stared, too shocked to protest his manhandling. He was angry because Phaedra was dangerous? “We talked. She was unpleasant.”

He stopped shaking her. She tried to read his expression. There was ferocity and loss and something else. Something vulnerable. “What did she want?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t think she knew. She sort of…” Grace’s voice trailed away. Struggling to understand one Djinn well enough in order to explain her to another was wreaking havoc on her communication skills. “She’s angry at you,” she said finally. “She’s really angry that it took you so long to come after her. She said it took you five hundred years.”

His chest moved, as if he took a deep breath, even though he had no real need to breathe. He dragged his long fingers through his hair, dislodging the plain tie that held it back. It fell about his pale hard face.

“I couldn’t go after Lethe alone,” he said harshly. “She would have destroyed me, and then there would have been no one to go after Phaedra. By the time I gathered enough allies, Lethe and Phaedra had disappeared. I spent most of that time searching for them. I didn’t rest. I didn’t stop. Not until I found them.”

Moved to compassion, Grace reached up to touch his cheek. “She doesn’t understand that. She couches it in a lot of sneering and anger, but I think at the bottom of all that, she’s hurt.”

He covered her hand with his. “What else did she say? How did she know to come here?”

“I asked her that. She said your attention to us and this place has been noted and remarked upon, and that she has ‘sources,’ whatever that means.” She shook her head. “I think—Khalil, you should weigh what I say carefully, because I’m no kind of expert on Djinn behavior, but I think she’s not only hurt, but she might be jealous of the time you’ve started to spend here.”

“She doesn’t want anything to do with me,” he said bitterly. “How can she be jealous?”

“That’s a rational question,” Grace told him. “She doesn’t want anything to do with you, but then she keeps tabs on what you’re doing? I don’t think ‘rational’ applies here. And she might be damaged and refuse to build associations with others, but I’m not sure she’s a pariah, exactly. At least not the way I understand pariahs from how you described them. I asked if she came to consult the Oracle, and she said she wouldn’t be beholden to me for a favor. From what you’ve said, I don’t think pariahs would care. They would take the consultation and just not fulfill their part of the bargain.”

He frowned. He hadn’t calmed. His energy was still volcanic under her fingertips, but he had become better controlled. “Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps not.”

She asked hesitantly, “What’s wrong with her? I mean, I can see and feel how very different she is from you and the other Djinn I’ve met. She feels jagged and sharp. I just don’t understand what that means.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s hard to explain. We each have an innate understanding of our own identity, the patterns and energy signature that makes us who we are, and we carry that with us no matter what form we assume.”

“I think I understand,” she said. “I always know who you are, no matter what you look like.”

He glanced at her. “When we sustain an injury, we heal ourselves by remembering who and what we are, and we…realign ourselves to that identity. Sometimes it’s exhausting. The deeper the injury, the harder it is to align, and we sometimes have to rest for a long time afterward. And sometimes Djinn are damaged so badly, they don’t have the strength to realign, or they can’t remember how they were before they were damaged so they can’t heal themselves. We have no healers for these kinds of injuries.”

“That’s terrible,” she said quietly. “All the time you people have to get over shit. Except when you can’t get over shit.” Remorse twisted inside. “Isn’t there anything to be done for damaged Djinn?”

“Not that we know of.” He looked grim. “And terrible or not, Phaedra’s still dangerous. You still haven’t told me why you didn’t call me.”

Grace’s shoulders sagged. “She seemed undecided and volatile. I was afraid if you showed up, it might make her worse. I didn’t want you to have to fight her, because if older Djinn are more Powerful, I thought you would be stronger than she is and you would win. But she might push you hard enough that you would have to kill her to do so.”

He cocked his head. From what she could see of his shadowed face, he was looking at her with a curious expression. “You were protecting me?”

She gave him a twisted smile. “I was trying to, anyway. How’d I do?”

“You did foolishly,” he snapped.

Her smile disappeared. Her fuse was short enough at the best of times. As strained as her day had been, it flashed hot and bright again.

“Oh, yeah? Fuck you too.” She turned and headed toward the house again. “I’m so done with the bad bits of today. I’ve changed my mind about that date. It’s the most goddamn ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard of. Go away.”

“ Gracie ,” he said between his teeth.

For crying out loud, he didn’t just call her that. That was her nickname, the one that her family called her. Chloe was the only one who ever called her that anymore. She pivoted on the heel of her strong leg back to him and gritted, “ What ?”

Suddenly he was right in front of her. He tilted up her face with both hands. When she felt his fingers shaking, the bottom seemed to drop out of her stomach. His gaze was a stern, furious blaze. “You could die. You could be gone. All it might take is one blow, one fall, one stab to the heart. One accident.” He stopped and tilted his face up at the waning moon. For one moment his regal features looked desperate and searching. When his gaze came down to hers again, it was like watching stars fall. He said, with a naive surprise, “You scared me.”

Damn him. Damn him.

Khalil stroked her cheeks as he told her, “I figured out what to wear on the date.”

Her mouth opened and closed. No words came out. She didn’t know what to say. She jerked away and headed toward the house again. “It’s got to be late,” she said over her shoulder. “After nine at least.”

He said nothing. He didn’t have to. She could feel him, full of scorching intent, prowling at her back.

She snapped, “I’m tired and filthy. I haven’t had any supper. Forget that, I didn’t get any lunch. I haven’t eaten all day, and I haven’t even showered yet.”

“I have a present for you,” he purred.

She stopped abruptly. He didn’t run into her back but reformed in front of her. His long black hair fell about his face like a velvet curtain. He was smiling. She bit her lips and tried to stop herself from asking, but then the question came out anyway. “What is it?”

“You will shower first,” he said. “Then I will tell you that you are beautiful.”

“You’ll what ?” She stared, astonished all over again.

“Then we will go somewhere for supper and a drink and a walk on the beach, but I refuse to stand on my head, and I forget all the rest,” he said. “But you won’t get your present until we go out.”