Oracle's Moon (Elder Races #04)

“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.”

 

 

 

 

 

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.

 

There were so many details to attend to. The house insurance. Grace also remembered what the ghost of the trucker had said about his accident insurance. An investigation into that was set in motion.

 

Khalil had called it—there was no lack of willing help on hand. A half-dozen Djinn were available at any given time. With a few determined Djinn pursuing the issue, they discovered that the trucker had not let his insurance lapse, as the insurance company had at first claimed. Instead, the company had made a mistake in processing his payment. Turned out, the insurance company owed his widow and Grace a settlement. It wouldn’t be a fortune, but it would be a substantial addition to Grace’s growing resources.

 

In the meantime, while Chloe and Max were in Houston, Khalil arranged for a leave of absence from his duties, and he and Grace tackled the job of sorting out what might be salvageable from the house. They saved some family mementos, photographs, all the historical papers and journals from previous Oracles that were stored in trunks in the attic, the files and computer, some of the children’s clothes and toys and the summer clothes Grace had stored in the office.

 

She chose to keep the rocking chair the children had been rocked in, even though it had been damaged. She wanted to try to repair it, because her grandmother had rocked her and Petra in it as well. Khalil wanted to keep the old leather armchair he sat in to read to the children. It was one of the few physical things he had ever grown attached to. There was nothing else worth salvaging. The structure itself would take an extensive effort to repair, more effort and resources than the house was worth.