Oracle's Moon (10 page)

He sucked a tooth to avoid a sudden smile. She went from dejection to dictating in a matter of seconds. He approved. He also approved of her protectiveness for the little ones. “Agreed,” he said. “The connection is in place. You’ve already shown yourself to be proficient at…how did you say…yanking my chain. You may summon me at any time if you feel alarmed or in need. I will stop by some time tomorrow to begin collecting on my end of the bargain, so plan for my visit with the little ones. Now, go to bed.”

He lingered just long enough to watch for her reaction to his order. She sat very straight, and a sarcastic, angry look crossed her face. As she opened her mouth, he chuckled to himself and vanished.

K
halil might have a talent for rubbing Grace the wrong way, but she had to give him credit for one thing: once he disappeared after their talk, she was able to stretch out on the futon and fall asleep.

That didn’t last nearly long enough. Something squashed her nose.

Her eyes popped open. She stared into Chloe’s upside-down face as the girl hung over the end of the futon. Chloe was grinning. Her blonde hair stood around her head in a nimbus. Some might even compare it to an angel’s halo.

Grace knew better. She said groggily, “Pushing my wake-up button never gets old for you, does it?”

Chloe giggled and shook her head. She pushed Grace’s nose again with a forefinger. “Wakey, wakey, Gracie,” Chloe said. “When am I going to get a big-girl bed?”

Grace sighed. Chloe had a small toddler bed, which wouldn’t be suitable for much longer. She needed a regular twin-sized bed soon. “I’ve told you before, baby girl, we’ll get you a new bed as soon as we can afford one.”

“Yeah, but when will that be? I’m too big to sleep in a little bed anymore.”

“I know you are, honey,” Grace mumbled.

The only other beds in the house were upstairs. Grace had lived at home while she went to college, so she had a double bed in her bedroom, and the bed in Petra and Niko’s old room was a queen. Not only were those too big for Chloe, but they wouldn’t fit in the children’s downstairs bedroom. Maybe she could trade Chloe’s toddler bed to somebody for a twin-sized one. Petra’s friend Katherine ran a daycare. Katherine might know of someone who needed a toddler bed and was interested in a trade.

Grace put an arm around Chloe and hugged her while she looked at the window. The lace curtains still hung in a knot from Khalil’s furious entrance last night. Outside, the morning brightened past dawn, and birds were yelling at the top of their lungs. In Grace’s experience, early morning birds never sang. Instead, they bellowed. Grace had gotten perhaps five hours’ sleep. It was going to be another long day.

She asked, “Is Max awake?”

“Uh-huh,” Chloe said. “Can we have pancakes for breakfast?”

“If we do, will you eat the other half of Max’s banana?” Grace asked. Getting Chloe to eat fruits and vegetables was a constant challenge.

Chloe tilted her delicate jaw. “Bananas disturb me,” she said.

Grace burst out laughing. “Where on earth did you learn that?”

Clearly pleased with herself, Chloe grinned. “Pancakes, one bite of banana,” she offered, with a bargaining wiliness worthy of a Djinn.

“No, Chloe.”

“Fine! Ugh! You never let me have anything I want!” Chloe turned to stomp out of the office.

Grace called after her, “You’re getting pancakes, aren’t you?”

“Just wait until I’m big enough to push the grocery cart around!” Chloe shouted from the living room. “We’re never going to buy bananas again!”

Grace burst into a fresh peal of laughter. Chloe in a temper was a sight to behold.

Max was as sunny natured as his sister was tempestuous. Grace found him humming and burbling in his crib. “Eeeee!” he said happily when he saw her.

“Good morning to you too, sunshine,” she said. She changed his diaper then picked him up to kiss him all over his soft, round face. He giggled and threw his arms around her neck. She held him tight for a moment. Sometimes she felt like she couldn’t breathe for worrying about how she would take care of these kids. She felt too young and far too inadequate, but gods, she loved them with all of her heart.

In the kitchen, she settled Max into his high chair while Chloe climbed into her booster seat, the Lala Whoopsie doll dangling from one hand. Chloe set the doll on her lap and looked expectant. Grace peeled a banana, and Max’s eyes lit up. He had developed enough dexterity to pick up bites of food with his thumb and forefinger, so she cut up part of a banana and set it in a bowl in front of him. “Mmm,” he said delightedly and set to work.

When she set the other half of banana in front of Chloe, the little girl scowled. “Why can’t we have pancakes first?”

Grace said, “Because I haven’t cooked them yet. Besides, you need to eat your banana first.”

Chloe said, “You’re bad.”

That was going too far. Grace said sternly, “That’s enough, young lady. You have two choices. You can choose to eat your banana and be nice and get pancakes, or you can choose to get cereal and go to your room after breakfast.”

In Grace’s mind, the coin from last night tossed into the air. Smart. Dumb. Poor Chloe was going to be living in the confessional booth beside Grace’s if she didn’t watch out. Grace understood her niece probably a lot better than Chloe thought.

“But you promised!” Chloe wailed.

“I never promised to cook pancakes for girls who try to get out of eating their banana like they said they would and who say mean things to me,” Grace said. She looked at Max. His cheeks were full, and he already had fruit smeared in his wispy hair. Okay. Another bath after breakfast for that one. Chloe turned red and started to cry as she ate her half of the banana in fast, furious bites. And a meltdown for the eldest one, and it wasn’t even seven o’clock yet.

Grace headed in desperation for the coffeemaker. Apparently it was going to be one of those mornings. Funny how often those happened after a short night’s sleep.

She set the machine to brew an extra-strong pot, because these days caffeine was her best friend. The coffeemaker sat on the worn countertop beside the kitchen window. As she switched on the machine, the sunny morning darkened. She leaned over the counter to look at the sky.

The sky was blue, dotted with fluffy cumulous clouds, and directly overhead a huge portion of it rippled. Wow, was that wrong.

Before she could do more than stare, the rippling mass of nothingness descended onto the wide, neglected lawn, and for the second time in as many days, a dragon appeared on her property.

Not
a
dragon.
The
dragon. Dragos Cuelebre, the only known dragon in existence.

Cuelebre was easily the size of a private jet. He was a deep bronze color that gleamed in the early sunlight. The bronze darkened to black at the ends of his gigantic wings, tail and long, powerful legs. He turned an enormous, triangular horned head to look around the clearing with fierce, metallic gold eyes before he shimmered into a shapeshift. His form shrank into that of a massive man, almost seven feet fall in height, with bronze-colored skin, inky black hair and gold dragon’s eyes.

She had to stop getting kicked in the head like this. She had to.

She looked at the brewing coffee with equal parts panic and despair. Then she looked at Chloe and Max. Chloe was tearfully muttering to the last of the banana in her hand. Max kicked a tiny plump foot as he licked his fingers.

Grace’s appalled gaze traveled back to the scene outside the window. Cuelebre strode in the direction of the front of the house. He had a brutal handsomeness, as though he had been hewn out of granite, and to her mind’s eye the air around him boiled with the force of his presence.

Violence is forbidden here.
She had said that to Cuelebre just yesterday morning, when he had come to confront Rune and Carling, and eventually the Elder tribunal as well. Cuelebre’s mate had accompanied him yesterday, but this morning the dragon was alone. He was more frightening when he was alone.

People can be taken from this place
, Dragos had said.
And violence done to them elsewhere.

Grace started to shake. She fumbled for the thread of connection to Khalil and pulled on it. She sensed him streaking toward her, his bright Power arcing like a shooting comet, then he filled the kitchen with his presence as his form coalesced beside her.

Max crowed in surprise. Chloe said, “Hello there, doggie-cat. Would you like a bite of my banana?”

Grace turned to face Khalil. He had looked powerful and exotic last night, ivory and crimson, and gleaming raven black hair. In the full light of morning he appeared more alien than ever. He wore undyed linen this time, and his ivory skin was poreless. Those piercing diamond eyes focused on her then he glanced sharply around the cheerful, domestic scene.

He gripped her shoulder in one huge hand. “What is it?”

A sharp knock sounded at the same time. Dry-mouthed, she whispered to Khalil, “Would you mind answering that, please?”

His hard, elegant face turned toward the front of the house. Then he vanished. She felt him streak toward the front door.

Grace looked at Chloe, who assumed a pious expression as she held up the last of her fruit. Chloe said, “I was only trying to share.”

Grace leaned back against the counter and slid to the floor. Her bad knee protested, so she stretched out her leg. She leaned an elbow on her other, upraised knee and rested her head on the heel of that hand. Her blood pounded through her body in great sledgehammer thuds. She felt it throbbing in her eyes, at her temples. Male voices sounded in the background, but her heartbeat pounded too loudly in her ears for her to make out what Khalil and the dragon said to each other.

I can’t do this, she thought. Oh, Petra, you’re the one who always wanted to be the Oracle. I never wanted this. I was never supposed to
be
this. I’m not big enough, strong enough or smart enough to be the Oracle. It’s too much.

So that’s it, I’ll quit. If I stop talking to people, the Power will go away. Won’t it?

Small fingers touched lightly on her arm. Grace looked sideways under the support of her hand. Chloe knelt beside her, her blue eyes wide. “I’m sorry, Gracie,” Chloe said. “You’re not bad. You’re good, and I love you.”

Grace smiled. “Thank you, baby girl. I love you too.”

“You don’t have to make pancakes if you don’t want.” Chloe showed her other hand, which was empty. “See, I ate all my banana.”

“What a good girl you are.” Grace felt her eyes grow damp. She gathered Chloe up and hugged her. “You’re such a good girl.”

What if she rejected the Power and it did go away, just as all the family legends said it would? What if it found its way to her niece? Chloe was the only other surviving female of the Andreas family. Grace was already pretty sure Chloe was a potential.

If the Power did not pass to Chloe, was it possible for it to go dormant and wait? Grace couldn’t imagine having any children of her own—Chloe and Max were more responsibility than she had ever expected to take on—but sooner or later, they would grow up and possibly have children of their own. Could the Power move on to one of their children before that girl was ready for it?

She turned her face into Chloe’s soft floating hair. Like hell it would.

Woman up, Gracie. Take responsibility. Do your job.

You never have accepted this. You grew up hoping you would never have to be the Oracle, and you’ve been kicking against it from the moment you knew your big sister was dead. Like the accident, it just happened to you. If you can’t take this on for the people like Rune and Carling who might need the Oracle’s help, do it for the children. And make damn sure you live a good, long life while you’re at it, so Chloe can have the same kind of happy, carefree childhood you had.

Her arms tightened protectively on Chloe’s delicate body. “I am going to make you the best pancakes you ever had,” Grace said. “The very, very best. But first I need for you to be a big girl for a few minutes. Would you keep your brother busy so I can go talk to the man at the front door? You can show Max your doll.”

Chloe smiled. “Okay.”

“Thank you, sweetie.”

“Welcome.”

Chloe scampered to the table, grabbed up her doll and shoved it in Max’s face. Max had been fingering the top of his sticky head thoughtfully. He laughed and reached for the doll as Chloe danced it around on his high-chair tray.

Feeling twice as clumsy as usual, Grace grabbed hold of the counter and used it to haul herself to her feet, balancing all of her weight on her good leg. She hurried toward the front of the house. Tension and antagonism crackled in the air like thunder and lightning. Khalil stood in front of the screen door, arms crossed and expression stony. On the other side of the flimsy barrier an angry dragon towered in human form.

“I see we’re not getting along,” Grace said breathlessly as she came up beside Khalil. She put a hand on Khalil’s bicep and said telepathically,
Thank you
.

He threw her a disgusted glance.

Hilarity bubbled up. Oh, yes, that’s right, he didn’t like to be thanked. Well, that was his problem. She kept her hand on Khalil’s arm and turned to the Lord of the Wyr. “Good morning. What can I do for you? Can I help you quickly, or did you want to consult with the Oracle? I’m in the middle of feeding two children, so if you want a consultation, it will have to wait until after breakfast.”

The dragon’s hot gold gaze shifted from Khalil to her, and she felt the impact to her bones. “Interesting,” said Cuelebre. “How did you get a prince of the House Marid to answer your door like a servant?”

“Do not answer that,” Khalil said between his teeth. “It is none of his business.”

Grace had, in fact, been about to answer Cuelebre’s question. Her mouth hung open for a moment before she shut it with a snap.

According to the database article she had read, the House Marid was the most Powerful of the all the Houses of Djinn. So Khalil was a prince? The article hadn’t mentioned anything about royalty, just that the Houses used consensus in decision making. She filed the observation under “irrelevant at the moment but interesting enough to pursue at a later time.”