Oracle's Moon (Elder Races #4)(17)

He threw her a narrow-eyed glance, and a lightbulb winked on.

Oh-ho. He didn’t like to be thanked? She watched him carefully as she said, “I really appreciate it.”

He threw her a glare and started to pace, and she had to suck on her cheeks to keep from letting a grin break over her face. He definitely didn’t like to be thanked. There had to be a reason for that. And she was more than a little stupid, if she could enjoy teasing such an irascible, Powerful creature. That might put her in the unforgiveable range of TSTL—Too Stupid To Live.

The massive form he chose to wear made short work of the office floor space. She wondered if he wore the dark crimson because he enjoyed the color or if there was some other reason. It suited him, turning his tall figure into a tower of flame that matched his true, invisible presence.

She rubbed the back of her sore neck and tried to focus.

Khalil said, “You were right not to take chances with the little ones’ lives.”

She took a quick breath. “Do you know something I don’t?”

He shook his head and said, “I know nothing more than you do about the Nightkind King’s intentions, good or otherwise.” His sparkling gaze moving restlessly over the chaos he had created in the room. He waved a hand impatiently. She flinched back as all the scattered papers flew through the air to land in a haphazard pile on her desk. “But you should not take risks with the children.”

“Of course not,” she said, looking sideways at the pile of papers. The paper on top of the pile was an upside-down electric bill. She pinched her nose and sighed. With one thing and another, she had forgotten to pay bills earlier. She had better work on that first thing in the morning.

Khalil lifted a finger. “I propose another bargain, of sorts,” he said.

Her attention snapped back to him. His words echoed so closely the reasons why she had called him, she was taken aback. “You do?”

“Yes,” he said. “You will ask me a question, and I will answer. Then I will ask you a question, and you will answer. The conversation is balanced. At the end, we both walk away without owing each other anything.”

“You want to play a truth game?” She stared. “But that’s a silly college game.” The version she had seen at parties was a variation on a truth-or-dare game. Usually it involved drinking beer when one didn’t want to answer.

Khalil wandered around the office. He stopped to pick up a plastic container of blank CDs from the top of the filing cabinet and examined it curiously. “Versions of that silly college game, as you call it, were played at the crossroads on the ancient passageways that led to Damascus. Men played for the chance to win riches, and they lost their heads if they dared try to lie.”

She blinked rapidly several times and cleared her throat. “That brings up a good point,” she said, her voice strangled. “What would be the forfeit?”

He turned to face her and bared his teeth. It was not really a smile. “Why, are you thinking of trying to cheat?”

“No, I just—I think that if we decide to do this exchange, a forfeit should be named, that’s all.” Was she actually considering playing a truth game with a Djinn who so obviously disliked her? She needed her head examined. Like, right now.

Those diamond eyes studied her. It was like being pinned by twin laser beams. Khalil said, “If either one of us refuses to answer, the other one will be owed a favor.”

She scratched her fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp as she considered. She could see that road to Damascus in her mind’s eye. The signpost had an arrow pointing one way that said SMART ROUTE and another arrow pointing the opposite way that said DUMB ROUTE. Hmm, which way to go?

In her imagination the signpost morphed into a coin flipping in the air. Smart route. Dumb route. Smart. Dumb.

She could tell by the look on his face that Khalil thought she would be too afraid to enter into the bargain. He would almost be right about that. Clearing her throat again, she said, “The children need me. I can’t enter into any agreements that would jeopardize my own safety. That goes for the other favor I owe you as well.”

Sleek dark eyebrows lowered. Clearly she had surprised him. After a moment, he said, “No bargain we enter into will cause jeopardy to the children. But one can only stop when both of us have asked a question and a round is complete.”

She tugged at her lower lip, considering him. She didn’t really have any secrets. As the Oracle, she wasn’t actually a head of state or a real Power broker in the Elder demesnes. She probably would have told him anything he chose to ask anyway, not that he necessarily needed to know that.

When else would she ever get the chance to ask a Djinn questions of her own, about dating and mating and sex and TV?

How could she ever justify this later to anyone else, much less herself? It was late, she had poor impulse control, and he was interesting. That sentence probably encapsulated every mistake every female had made throughout the history of relationships.

Even though she wasn’t Catholic, she wondered if she should find a confessional booth somewhere and sit in it for a while, just for the principle of the thing. Maybe she should lock herself in the booth and throw out the key.

In a last-ditch effort to grasp hold of her sanity, she asked, “Why do you want to do this?”

He crossed his arms. “I wish information, and I will not be beholden to you for it. Enough prevaricating, human. You will either enter into the bargain or not. Choose.”