Oracle's Moon (Elder Races #04)

Two sets of dismayed female eyes turned to him. He was at a loss to pick which of them looked more betrayed, and he had to bite back his own smile. He told the youngest female, “Do not jump to hasty conclusions. Just watch. You will get your pancakes. I have said it.”

 

 

He was unsure whether the little girl understood either “hasty” or “conclusion,” but she seemed to get the gist of what he had said, for she smiled and looked eager. Grace looked much more skeptical. Out of the corner of his eye, Khalil watched as she quickly prepared a bowl of something that looked sticky and white, like porridge. The baby began to bounce in his high chair and squeal. Grace took her coffee and the bowl to the table, and began feeding Max his breakfast.

 

Khalil wanted to tease Grace awhile longer and watch her too-pale face flush with temper, but he could not bring himself to put Chloe through any more waiting. He turned his attention to the vast, invisible web of connections that surrounded him. Reckoned in Djinn terms, his wealth was immense. Many Djinn from all five Houses owed him favors, and many creatures other than Djinn did also.

 

He chose one of the oldest connections in his web. It led to Mundir, an elder in House Gul who had owed him a favor for millennia. Khalil plucked the strand politely. He sensed the other Djinn in the distance, bristling in surprise, but Mundir streaked toward him at once. The other Djinn co-alesced in front of him. Mundir’s physical form looked like a slender human male teenager, with blonde hair and arrogant, starred eyes that revealed his inhumanity.

 

Khalil disliked Mundir. He asked, “Are you able to pay your debt?”

 

Mundir curled his lip. The dislike was mutual. “Of course.”

 

Khalil smiled at the other Djinn. The debt had been a long inconvenience for Mundir, and holding it over his head had been most enjoyable. Now it was time for another pleasure. “You will clean this kitchen floor with…” He looked at his small nest of human birds, who were staring openmouthed at the new arrival. Khalil asked Grace, “What does one use to clean a kitchen floor?”

 

She gave both him and Mundir a wary glance. “A mop and bucket?”

 

Khalil waved a hand and finished giving Mundir his order. “For what you have owed me, you will clean this kitchen floor as humans do, with a mop and bucket, and I suppose that means soap and water as well.” He added telepathically, And you will go gently as you do so, House Gul, for young ones live in this place, and they are vulnerable.

 

The tight, incredulous expression on the other Djinn’s face alone was worth the cancellation of his ancient debt. Fury shook in Mundir’s voice as he hissed, “This will pay in full what I have owed you.”

 

Khalil opened his eyes wide. “Of course.”

 

He caught sight of Grace shaking her head slowly, her gaze wide. He gave her a gleaming smile. Associating with this young Oracle was proving to be beneficial on many levels. So far this morning he had quite virtuously obstructed the path of the Great Beast—an opportunity that did not come around often—and he had also provided a great source of irritation to another Djinn whom he had disliked for countless years. Now he saw that he had rendered the Oracle in a rare state of speechlessness. Aside from her disturbing and mysterious vision, the subject of which he intended to pursue as soon as the little ones were not present, this morning was turning out to be truly fine.

 

It put him in such a magnanimous mood, he felt like splurging. What the hell. He plucked another connection, and another startled Djinn appeared. This one was Ismat, of the House Shaytan. The form she chose was pleasantly rounded and dark skinned, with hawkish features.

 

After verifying she was available to pay her debt, Khalil said, “You will go to a respectable restaurant.” He tried to think of a good one. He didn’t know very many restaurants. Finally he said, “The Russian Tea Room in New York will do. You will bring back pancakes for these humans, along with an assortment of other breakfast dishes, and you will create a fine table from which they will dine. The small female has been waiting some time for her breakfast, so do this quickly.” His thoughtful gaze fell on an infuriated Mundir who mopped the floor, and he added, “Oh yes, and bring back a gallon of milk while you’re at it.”

 

Ismat looked around the kitchen. She grinned as she caught sight of Mundir with a mop and bucket. Eyes twinkling, she said to Khalil, “I see you have finally loosened your tight fist on all those many debts you own. This will pay in full one of the favors I owe you.”

 

“It will indeed,” he said.

 

Ismat vanished.