Oracle's Moon (Elder Races #4)(67)

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.”

“There aren’t any beaches nearby,” she said, dumbly. Stand on his head? Where the hell had he gotten his information on dating?

With one hand, Khalil made a gesture grand enough for the most accomplished of stage magicians. “That is a minor inconvenience only, since I can transport us anywhere we may wish to go.”

With that, he opened up a whole different vista in front of her. The possibilities were staggering.

This whole Damascus business had turned into quite a trip. If only she had realized, she would have packed some bags.

“We’ll go somewhere local,” she said, almost dreamily. No witches’ haunts, not with the kind of chilly reception she had been getting all day. “There’s a pub in town that caters to a wide clientele from the Elder Races. I’ll eat something and maybe have a drink.” Maybe she would have a stiff scotch. “A quick, quiet date. No drama, no fuss, bed by midnight. And you’ll give me my present.”