He wasn’t exactly compassionate. If he had been, she would have shoved him away. No, his impartial attitude had a strange effect on her. She found herself relaxing and studying her own knee with dispassion, as if it belonged to someone else. It was the first time since the accident that she had been able to do so.
“This has been cut open,” he said. He sounded shocked.
“I had to have a couple of surgeries,” she said. His quick diamond gaze met hers, and she shrugged. “I’m lucky to be alive, but that doesn’t stop me from complaining.”
“Your flesh is so fragile,” he murmured. “And even though you are still healing, it is too late to repair your knee by Powerful means.”
She said drily, “Even in the witches’ demesne, doctors with that kind of Power are rare. I didn’t have health insurance or the money to pay for that kind of treatment. I guess the concept of permanent physical damage must seem pretty foreign to you.”
He shot her a quick, upward glance from under frowning brows. “I understand permanent damage,” he said. “I have struck down my enemies before, both those bound in flesh and those who are folk of the air. Djinn can be damaged. My daughter is.”
Surprise pulsed. She said, “I’m sorry.”
Instead of replying, he took the brace and fitted it around her leg again. She took over to strap it into place. Her voice was a little hoarse as she said, “It’s my turn to ask you a question.”
“Yes,” he said. He sat back on his heels. His expression had turned inscrutable.
It was her turn to fall silent. Somehow asking him about dates, mates, sex and TV seemed too childish given the turn in their conversation. She studied him, considering questions and casting each one aside. Either one of them could put an end to the truth game after she asked him her question and this round ended. She wanted to make sure she asked something as useful as possible.
His expression turned irritable. “Are you going to ask me something or pay the forfeit?”
She raised her eyebrows. “Don’t try to rush me. We didn’t negotiate a time limit on asking our questions.”
“Very good, human,” said Khalil. He sounded surprised and somewhat amused. “You might learn to be an effective bargainer, given enough practice.”
“The more you talk and distract me, the more time I might need to think,” Grace warned.
He laughed as he stood. The laughter was real, and it danced through his energy along with a physical ripple in his low, pure voice. She shivered, and a sprinkle of goose bumps rose along her skin. She’d had no idea that a Djinn could be so fascinating.
She shoved that thought aside as she spun her chair in another circle, more slowly this time. Then she caught sight of her computer screen. The saved-as-draft notification still showed on her e-mail program, reminding her of why she had called Khalil in the first place.
She turned back to face him. She needed to phrase this carefully so she didn’t waste an opportunity. Making sure that she said a statement and didn’t frame it as a question, she said, “When the Vampyres were here, we spoke of someone who was killed on the property earlier today.”
He gave her a thoughtful look. “Yes. I have since learned the details of the incident.”
She gripped the arms of her chair until her knuckles whitened. “What happened was an excellent example of how meaningless the law of sanctuary can be.”
“I cannot argue with that.”
Grace licked her lips. “The Oracle’s Power doesn’t work like other witches’ Power, and I don’t have offensive spells. I would like to…hire you, I guess, for lack of a better term. Do I have anything you might value enough that I can bargain with you for continuing protection for me and the children?”
Khalil’s expression shuttered. “Yes,” he said.
Khalil watched with interest as Grace’s expression fell. Usually he enjoyed that look of disappointment on humans’ faces. He wondered why he didn’t this time.
She said, “I didn’t phrase the question right, and you answered me.” She rubbed the back of her neck and slumped in her seat.
For a moment, all the young human’s spitfire was doused. She looked so weary and discouraged, Khalil felt moved to…something.
He was not moved to point out that she was asking for something he had already granted her, nor did he see any reason to inform her that she’d already thrown away one favor. That went against every Djinn instinct he had. She needed to learn to pay better attention. Bargaining and negotiation were skills that every youngling Djinn had to work to acquire, and there was no better way to learn that than practicing in real life.
He might not have recognized “pull the other one” but despite how he had baited her earlier, he had in fact associated amicably with quite a few humans throughout his long existence, and he knew some slang and colloquialisms. He believed there was an appropriate saying for a time such as this. It was called learning from the school of hard knocks.