Oracle's Moon (Elder Races #4)(99)

Everything in Khalil leaped at her words, but he never took his attention away from the real threat, his father. The rage on Soren’s face was blinding. “That isn’t a bargain, that’s blackmail.”

Khalil flattened farther around Grace, tightening his Power in case of a blow. She said, “Call it what you like.”

“You’re talking about his death!”

“I’m talking about protecting his right to choose whatever he wants.”

“We do not sacrifice our people!” Soren took a step toward her, his hands clenched.

Every other Djinn moved forward too, their attention locking on Soren. Ebrahim stepped in front of Grace and Khalil. It was an entirely brave thing to do and, if Soren chose to strike, entirely suicidal.

Khalil dared to loosen his hold on Grace enough to rise over Ebrahim’s head and face his father. “It appears that no one else agrees with you,” he said. “Enough of this. You will not hamper me in any way from doing what I want with my life. Strike the bargain.”

Soren met his gaze. “Khalil, don’t.”

“Strike it.” He didn’t waver, despite the look in Soren’s eyes. Soren in pain was more dangerous than ever, but Khalil also knew that once Soren agreed to the bargain, the older Djinn would be honor bound to keep it. “And for the love of gods, keep peace between us.”

Soren looked around at his people, and his expression grew bitter. “Yes,” said Soren. Then he vanished.

Grace sagged. Quicker than thought, Khalil took form and snatched her close, and as he counted her precious breaths, he knew that every other Djinn would be doing so as well, watching and helping her in any way they could.

“You’ve just gained an entire race of bodyguards, nursemaids and babysitters,” he said in her hair.

She clutched him so tightly her arms shook. “Nobody babysits the children until they’ve read at least three child-rearing books.” She whispered, “Even though all the possible futures kept shifting, I kept seeing you in some kind of prison. I kept trying to figure out how to stop it from happening.”

She was trembling all over. He tilted her face up and kissed her gently, savoring her soft lips and the core of steel inside her and how she kissed him back.

“I am so proud of you,” he said from the back of his throat. “And don’t think I’ve forgotten you never called me when Phaedra showed up, even after you promised. I am still pissed all to hell at you for that.”

“Hold on a sec,” she murmured. “I might need to gasp and bite my nails.”

“Gracie,” he said between his teeth.

She buried her face in his chest. “I know, you’re never going to let me forget it.”

“That’s right.” He cupped the back of her head and held her. “I have to ask. Are all the Oracle’s moons going to be like this?”

She pulled back and stared at him. She looked horrified. “Gods, I don’t know. They’d better not be.”

Twenty-One

After the confrontation with Soren, Khalil had lost his taste for the hunt. Not that it mattered. Once the coven had lost their ability to operate in secrecy, it became a bug hunt. Twelve bugs after Therese were apprehended, and the biggest cockroach was Brandon Miller. Jaydon Guthrie, for whom so many crimes had been committed, had known nothing of the attacks. By Monday evening, all the conspirators were in custody.

Khalil was glad, for Grace’s sake, that not all twelve of the people who had showed up for her work day had been involved in sabotaging her house. All but Olivia had been part of the Humanist Party, but only four on Saturday had been part of the secret coven. The other eight had just been unpleasant.

“Somehow that’s a bit easier to take, knowing that not everybody on Saturday had been there all day, conspiring to kill me and the kids,” Grace said to Khalil with a shudder.

“The ones who did are crazy,” Khalil said. “Just like pariahs.”

Once the conspiracy had been uncovered, all eight from the workday who were innocent, along with Jaydon Guthrie and many others, called or e-mailed to express their outrage and grief at what had happened and to apologize on behalf of the Humanist Party.

One of them was the babysitter, Janice. When Grace recognized the number on her new cell phone, she almost didn’t pick up, but then she decided otherwise and ended up talking with the older woman for fifteen minutes. “I have certain beliefs,” Janice said, her voice thick with emotion. “We all believe in something. But what that coven did was monstrous, and even though I knew nothing about it, it hurts my heart to think I had any connection at all with them.”

“I guess it’s hard to understand terrorism in any form,” Grace said. “We just have to learn how to move on now.”

Isalynn insisted Grace, and by extension Khalil, stay at her house for the foreseeable future. Security had swarmed Isalynn’s neighborhood, and her house was large and comfortable. Grace agreed, and that was the last decision either she or Khalil had to make Sunday evening. After an early supper, a hot shower and the comfort of soft, old clothes that one of the Djinn investigators brought, Grace couldn’t keep her eyes open. While Khalil joined her for the companionship, even he was tired enough to rest, drifting and thoughtless throughout the dark night.

Once the authorities confirmed that all twelve conspirators were in custody on Monday, the first thing Grace did was call Katherine. Even though nobody believed the children were still in danger, Katherine and John agreed to stay with them in Houston for the week, so that Grace and Khalil could deal with the aftermath of the house fire.