Oracle's Moon (Elder Races #4)(101)

He didn’t know what happened next. He sensed movement that occurred somehow just beyond his awareness.

Atefeh flexed with a gasp and fell forward. Thinking the Djinn meant to attack or overwhelm Grace, Khalil lunged to pull Grace away and wrap her in a tight protection. But Atefeh was focused on something else, something only she and Grace seemed able to see. Atefeh keened, a sharp sound filled with pain. Her mate Ebrahim emitted a strangled groan in response, his face agonized as he watched her struggle.

Let me go! Grace said to Khalil. She shoved him with her Power, and he peeled away. She stepped toward the struggling Djinn. “Don’t give up! Don’t try to grab her. Stand still and let her come to you. Try to open up—she has to come inside you.”

Who was Grace talking about? Khalil couldn’t sense anybody but Grace and Atefeh.

Afeteh’s presence shuddered and rippled and suddenly flared with brilliance. For a moment, an ebony-skinned woman stood in front of them, eyes incandescent with triumph. She turned to give her mate a fierce smile. Ebrahim lost his physical form and became a piercing white light filled with joy.

All the other Djinn shouted until the sound rang through the open space.

Then Atefeh’s smile faded. A moment later, her physical form did too. I can’t hold it any longer, the Djinn said faintly. I must rest.

Ebrahim’s fierce white light twined with Atefeh. He said to Grace, Thank you.

You are both welcome, Grace said, even as the two Djinn faded away.

Grace turned to Khalil, beaming. He laughed, caught her up and spun her around. Then he stood and held her tightly.

My miracle, he thought. My Grace.

By Friday, Khalil couldn’t stand it any longer. “I am putting my foot down,” he told Grace at Isalynn’s breakfast table. Even though they had spent the last several nights at Isalynn’s, they never saw anyone but Judith, who took care of the house. Isalynn and her son, Malcolm, had traveled to Washington, but Isalynn had made it very clear before she left that they were to stay for as long as they needed.

Grace had dressed in capri pants and a sleeveless shirt that buttoned down the front. Khalil chose to form jeans and a T-shirt again. He was growing to like that kind of outfit. Grace rested her chin in her hands as she regarded him. She said, “Putting your foot down?”

“I can have feet when I choose to.”

She chuckled. “It’s a very human saying.”

“Indeed.” He folded the newspaper he had been reading and set it aside.

“What are you putting your foot down about now?”

“You make me sound dictatorial,” he said. “Finish your breakfast.”

She raised her eyebrows pointedly. He smiled at her. He adored his sharp, funny, hotheaded human. “I did not know you had such strong opinions about breakfast.” She finished her toast in a few bites. “I ate that because I wanted to.”

“No doubt you did,” he replied. “You have worked yourself into exhaustion every single day of this week.” Each night she had, in fact, barely been able to shower and eat a few bites of supper before falling into bed. He always joined her, sometimes in physical form, sometimes wrapped around her in an invisible embrace. “I am putting my foot down about this evening. Our activities today will be light, and we will quit early.”

The sparkle of humor left her face. “The children are coming home on Sunday. I miss them and want them back, but there’s still so much to do.”

“I miss the children too,” he said. “But not everything needs to be done this week. Murderers have been arrested; insurance claims have been filed and investigated; we have gone through all of your possessions, sorted documents, put the salvageable things in storage and taken furniture and your car in for repairs—although I still think you should sell your car. We have demolished your house, established a guarantee of freedom for myself, and you have healed two Djinn. Enough, Grace.”

“I haven’t even started looking at rental properties for a place to stay,” she said. Her expression grew shadowed. “We have to have some place to keep the kids when they return. Furniture shopping. Clothes and toys for the kids. Hell, clothes for me. Kitchen supplies, pots and pans, dishes. A coffeemaker. Coffee for the coffeemaker. Cups to put the coffee in.”

Speaking of which, he finished his coffee. “Do not trouble yourself in the slightest about any of that. I have arranged everything.”

Her posture shifted and she bent her head. Instead of resting her chin in the heel of her hands, she now rested her forehead in them. Looking down at the table, she said, “Khalil, these are not the kind of things people arrange and then tell somebody about them afterward.”

“I do,” he said. Her head came up, and her lovely eyes flashed fire. While he most definitely approved of the fire, he took note of the stress that caused it. “At least temporarily. I have arranged for an extended leave from the Demonkind legislature. I can make up the rest of my two-year commitment afterward. We are going on vacation, Grace. The only thing you need to decide is where.”

Her expression went blank with amazement. It amused him, but it also twisted him up a little. “But—but…”

“No ‘buts.’ Humans are always in such a hurry.” He took her hands and looked deeply into her turbulent eyes. “There is more than enough money. You now have resources in your bank account, and the Djinn will never allow you to suffer a lack of funds. I have funds too, quite a lot, last time I looked. There is more than enough time. There is nowhere you need to go, and nothing you need to do right now unless you choose to do it. You and the children are safe, Grace. You are safe now.”