Oracle's Moon (Elder Races #04)

He remembered how shapely her lean, muscled legs had been, except for the livid red scars. He was suddenly angry on her behalf. The physical damage from the accident might be permanent, but it had been wholly avoidable, if only she’d had access to Powerful medical care. Now she would have to suffer some kind of limitation, if not outright discomfort or pain, for the rest of her brief life.

 

Then he remembered another thing. She had said, I didn’t have health insurance or the money to pay for that kind of treatment. He looked around with a new perspective, noting the signs of age and wear in the furnishings. He remembered the page on the Oracle’s website that explained donations. It even had a PayPal button. Why did Grace not have enough money?

 

He had visited often enough now to realize that, while at times the house might be cluttered with the business of dealing with small, active children and daily life, underneath the clutter, it was clean.

 

His scrutiny must have grown too prolonged, because her pretty, fine-boned face grew self-conscious. She gestured awkwardly at the table. “I know you said you don’t need physical refreshment,” she said. “But you seemed to enjoy nibbling at things and drinking coffee yesterday at breakfast, so I set a place for you.”

 

She was not only poor, she was generous. He smiled at her. “Thank you,” he said.

 

Her gaze widened.

 

He murmured, “Maybe that phrase isn’t quite so bad after all, as long as it isn’t overused, as some people are wont to do.”

 

“I can’t believe I just heard someone use wont in a sentence with a straight face,” she murmured back.

 

He laughed. “Will you show me how to fasten Max into his seat?”

 

Her vivid eyes sparkling, she did just that. He slipped the baby into place and secured the fastening. Chloe had clambered into her seat. She was already eating a slice of apple. Grace gave the girl a strange look. However, she said nothing. Instead she picked up the serving spoon and served Chloe first. She offered a spoonful to Khalil, who nodded. He was curious to taste what they would be eating. Grace served herself last. She sat in her chair by Max and began to feed him bites of the colorful goop.

 

Khalil tasted his own small serving of supper. He was correct. It was creamy cheese, broccoli and rice, simple and actually quite tasty. He took another bite and said telepathically to Grace, I did not understand the expression on your face just now as you looked at Chloe.

 

She glanced at him, eyes dancing. Little Miss is on her very best behavior. You should feel flattered. She’s even eating her apple slices. Holy moly, she just took a bite of broccoli. Pay no attention to me while I faint.

 

He chuckled and looked at Chloe. The little girl sat very straight. She chewed vigorously with a beatific smile. He said to her, “I like libraries too.”

 

That opened a floodgate. Chloe didn’t stop talking. He learned about story time, and somebody named Katherine, and also other people named Joey and Rachel, and something strange he really didn’t understand, because it was a person and yet not, and it seemed to have adventures in a castle in the living room.

 

There was no castle in the living room. This had to be a product of her imagination. The odd person/not-person was a Lalaloopsy—

 

Grace interrupted. “Wait, your doll is called a Lalaloopsy?”

 

“Uh-huh,” Chloe said.

 

Grace muttered, “I thought it was Lala Whoopsie.”

 

Well, that explained that. Sort of.

 

And Chloe took off again. She very much needed and wanted a big bed now, and waiting was terribly hard even for big people, and would Khalil read…she meant, would he help her read another book after supper?

 

“Yes,” he said. He exchanged an amused glance with Grace as Chloe bounced in her seat with excitement.

 

He honored the gift of the apple slices on his plate by eating them. They were crisp, crunchy and tart. Then he drank the brown liquid. He discovered that it was iced tea, refreshing and cold. Max dribbled goop out of his mouth and giggled. Every once in a while, Grace looked at Khalil. She did so surreptitiously, out of the corner of her eye, as if she didn’t want to be caught showing any kind of interest.

 

Each glance reminded him of how entertaining it had been to flirt with her, tease her and indulge his sense of mischief. He could sense feathery, delicate touches as she reached out psychically to touch his presence. She always withdrew again almost immediately. She didn’t appear to realize that he could sense every time she did it, and she couldn’t possibly know how erotic that was. It was as if she trailed her fingers very lightly along his bare skin. Aroused, he clenched down hard on himself, and his self-control turned fierce.

 

And he loved all of it.