Oracle's Moon

15

Grace had been in Strange Brew perhaps a half-dozen times since she had turned twenty-one. The interior of the pub was the same throughout, bare brick walls and lots of wood—wooden bars, floors, stools, tables and chairs. There were three bars: one at the front of the building, one toward the back and the third in the basement. They all had a patina of age that darkened their surface. They were scarred from years of use and glossed from countless polishing.

The basic decor was original and bright, with colorful posters and prints hung on the walls, gathered, Grace had heard, throughout the years from the owner’s travels. There was also a thoroughly modern sound system installed, which was currently blasting the Rolling Stones over the speakers.

The pub was packed, of course, with people shouting to be heard over each other and the pounding music. Grace paused to get acclimated.

Sparks of Power blinked throughout the crowd like fireflies. Several human witches were in the room. She could sense them by the feel of their Power, although she didn’t recognize anyone. Through the brick archway that led to another section, she saw a couple of Dark Fae standing close in conversation. A dwarf headed toward the back rooms shoved her way aggressively through the crowd. Grace caught a glimpse of the dwarf’s craggy face. Her beard hung to her short waist in several braids and was threaded with colorful beads.

Grace didn’t see any Light Fae. Perhaps the owner was in another room, or he might be at the other location. Grace couldn’t remember what his name was, but she would bet he was wealthy enough that he didn’t have to work on a Saturday night if he didn’t want to.

Further down the bar, she noticed a male Vampyre. Like most Vampyres, he was attractive, although somewhat di-sheveled. He leaned against the bar as two humans, one male and one female, hung off his shoulders. All three were flushed and looked inebriated.

Grace’s forehead wrinkled. Either they were all on a date, she guessed, or the Vampyre was a bottom-feeder. A few Vampyres couldn’t give up drinking. Vampyres couldn’t feel the effects of alcohol through direct consumption, but they could if they drank from intoxicated humans. Nicknamed bottom-feeders, they trolled bars and looked for willing participants, offering to buy drinks in return for sips of the humans’ blood in a kind of quid pro quo.

Usually they found no lack of willing participants, as drinking increased the sense of euphoria caused by a Vampyre’s bite—or so Grace had heard. As long as the humans were of legal drinking age, the transaction was entirely legal, although it could get dangerous. Continuing to drink on top of blood loss also increased the effects of intoxication for a human, and if a Vampyre grew impaired, he lost his ability to gauge when to stop feeding.

She shook her head at the sight of the trio, turned away and shouted at Khalil, “I want to go to the bar and ask if they’re still serving food.”

“As you wish,” he said. That was when she noticed how rigid he had become. His expression had turned stony again, and his eyes blazed with a brilliant, sharp-edged light.

She paused, staring up at him. She had no idea what Khalil was thinking. Djinn are Powerful and unpredictable, Brandon had said. They make folk nervous. Shoving that unwelcome thought aside, she asked Khalil, “Are you okay?”

He had been surveying the room, his mouth tight. His gaze came down to her. “Do not trouble yourself with concern over me,” he said. “Order your food.”

“All right,” she said. She glanced around again. “I didn’t think about how hard it might be to find a place to sit on a Saturday night.”

“I will locate a seat,” Khalil said shortly.

She hesitated again, searching his expression. Finally she said, “We don’t have to stay, if you don’t like it here.”

That brought his gaze back to her. “This place is…an adjustment,” he said. “And I am still adjusting. I will let you know if I need to leave.”

“All right.” She sighed. Apparently this venture was not going so well. What else had she expected from a goddamn ridiculous date? But her stomach was so empty, the hunger pains felt like they were shooting through to her spine. Maybe she could grab a quick sandwich, and then they could leave.

Khalil strode through the crowd. His height and natural arrogance were such that people automatically moved out of his way. Feeling much less effective, she wiggled her way through the crowd and actually managed to reach the bar.

Two bartenders were working hard. She waved as one whisked past her to deliver tall mugs of foaming beer at one end. She waved again as he passed, this time carrying a tray of empty dirty glasses. He gave no sign of acknowledging her presence, and she scowled.

Over the sound system, one song ended, and another one by the same band began. It must be Rolling Stones night. The raucous lyrics pounded in her eardrums.

Someone came up behind her, his body brushing against her back. She stiffened, already aware that it wasn’t Khalil even as she began to turn. A low voice said in her ear, “Hello, darlin’. Lemme buy you a drink.”

She cast a leery glance over her shoulder. A handsome male smiled down at her. His eyes were glazed. Ugh. It was the bottom-feeder. “I’m with someone,” she said, loudly enough to be heard over the music. “And he’s going to be right back.”

The Vampyre said, “I’ll buy ’im a drink too. We kin all have a party. I’ll s’ply the likker.” He leaned forward confidingly. “Know what the best thing is about being me?”

“I have a feeling you’re going to tell me,” Grace said.

“The high we can all get is entirely legit, ’n for you guys it’s free. You’re welcome.” He braced a hand on the bar, effectively trapping her with his body, as he looked her up and down. “Shew,” said the Vampyre, his southern accent slurred. He swayed. “Yer all dressed up like a garden. I’d love to pick yer flowers.”

Grace dropped her head over her hands and groaned as she leaned against the bar in an effort to get away from him. She said, “I cannot believe you just said that to me.”

“You smell good too.” The Vampyre dropped his nose into her hair and sniffed noisily. “Kinda like watermelon. I think. I dunno, it’s been so long since I’ve eaten food, I forget.”

Ugh! She twisted around and shoved at him. It was like trying to shift a planted tree. “Seriously? My companion isn’t friendly. You need to go away now.”

He grabbed at her hands. “Anybody ever tell you, yer so purty you could make a dead man come?”

She stared at him in shocked affront. “The hell did you just say to me?!”

At the same time, one of the bartenders yelled, “Earl! Don’t make me come after you. Back the truck up, buddy, or I’m tossing you out!”

“C’mon, it was just a joke. Don’t you get it?” With a sloppy grin, the Vampyre shuffled back a step. He pointed at one of the speakers. “Vampyre—Rolling Stones—the end of ‘Start Me Up’? A joke’s no good if you gotta explain—”

Two massive hands clamped down on the Vampyre’s shoulders. Grace looked past the Vampyre to Khalil’s furious face. The renegade angel was gone, replaced by an expression of such glittering malice, Grace knew things were not going to go well for Earl in the near future.

“I’m not going to get any dinner,” she said to the man next to her at the bar.

The man didn’t respond, probably because he didn’t hear her. He was too busy staring along with the rest of the bar, as Khalil took the Vampyre by the back of the neck and belt, lifted him overhead, twisted and threw him through the arched doorway, across two rooms. The Vampyre struck the brick wall with a crack that was audible even over the blaring music. He disappeared as he slid to the floor. Conversation stopped.

A nearby woman said huskily, “Someone get that guy a superhero costume with really tight tights.”

Yes, Grace thought, as she stared at Khalil. He is magnificent. And he seems so much bigger when he’s enraged.

And this has got to be the most cursed date in the history of…ever.

The commotion began. Where the Vampyre had fallen, a growl sounded, and a wave of people scrambled back, like a wave rippling outward. Khalil smiled a calamitous smile. His hair had slipped out of the leather tie again and fell about his face. He looked entirely anarchic. He strode forward.

Grace turned back to the bar as the sounds of destruction began. “Do I have to do anything about this?” she asked herself. “I don’t think so. This isn’t one of my problems.”

She saw a bowl filled with peanuts and popcorn nearby and pulled it toward her. If only she could reach that bottle of beer, sitting on the counter behind the bar. It wasn’t what she normally liked to drink, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. She stood on tiptoe and strained, and managed to hook her two longest fingers around the bottle. She wiggled it her way. Then she dug in her purse, found a ten-dollar bill and dropped it on the counter.

Behind her, chaos spread. When she looked over her shoulder, people appeared divided into two groups, those that pushed for the door, and those that moved toward the chaos. Either the second group thought they could help in some way, or they were going to join in the fight. Some of them, no doubt, were touching Khalil without his permission. None of them had realized what Khalil really was. If they had, they would all be racing for the door.

Grace made sure she had a firm hold on her purse with its precious contents. Then, carrying the beer and the bowl of snacks, she headed toward the group working to get out the door.

She had only limited success, but she would take it. She lost a third of the beer and half the peanuts and popcorn by the time she reached outside. Inside, the music had stopped. Sounds of shouting, cursing and splintering wood replaced it. Outside, most of those who had exited the bar, talking to each other or on their cell phones. A few were laughing. Sirens sounded in the distance.

Grace took a couple of healthy pulls off the beer before setting the bottle on the sidewalk next to the building. Then she ate the peanuts and popcorn while she walked to her car. It wasn’t what she had hoped to get for supper, but it stopped the noisy hunger pains.

The car was quiet when she drove home. No sexy, distracting, unpredictable Djinn, no chattering Chloe, no whees, hoots or other random, cheerful noises from Max. No unexpected kicks in the head from anybody. The house was quiet too when she unlocked the door and let herself in. Peaceful. It was nice to be alone for a little while.

To tell the truth, she missed the children, but it would also be nice to have the rest of the night without them. Maybe for once she could sleep past the crack of dawn.

She set her purse in its spot on the bookcase by the front door. She had the impulse to cook herself something real for supper. A warm meal sounded good. But cooking seemed like too much effort. Instead she ate one of the nectarines left over from lunch.

Including travel time, the date had lasted just under an hour. She had been on some pretty bad dates, but that was a record even for her. Forget about a midnight deadline. She could brush her teeth and be in bed by quarter after eleven.

So she took off the flower garden. (Pick yer flowers. Ha!) She slipped on a pair of shorts, washed the makeup off her face and brushed her teeth. Then, because the whole evening had taken on a surrealistic quality, she had to look at the check again. That gorgeous, unbelievable, life-altering piece of paper. She sighed with happiness as she tucked it away. Her problems and challenges hadn’t vanished, but she was starting to see a way through them, and the relief made her feel so buoyant, she realized just how much of a crushing weight had been on her shoulders these last few months.

That was when Khalil arrived. He exploded into the house in a blazing rush and formed in front of her. He was back to his original form. In black. His hands were on his hips, his eyes shone like supernovas, and he was glowering.

Oh dear. Himself did not appear to be happy. Grace was fairly certain that was not her problem either.

“I looked for you,” he said. “You were not in the bar’s immediate vicinity.”

“No, I wasn’t, was I?” she said. “Did you have fun on your first date?”

“I do not believe that is how dates are supposed to go,” he informed her.

“Is that so?” She sat on the couch. “How do you believe dates are supposed to go? And what do you think went wrong?”

“That son of an ass put his hands on you,” he said edgily. “He insulted you.”

She shook her head. “Nope,” she said in a calm voice. “That’s not what went wrong. Would you like another shot at answering, or should I just tell you?”

He remained silent, watching her.

“Okay, here we go,” she said. “You were wrong. I was wrong to go out with you. The date itself was wrong. We made the decision to go out, and it all snowballed from there. Of course the date was a disaster. It was going to be a disaster no matter what we did. We are about as different as two different creatures can get. You’re a prince of the Djinn—and I still have no idea what that means.…”

“It means nothing,” he snapped. “It’s an honorific. All the male elders in the five Houses are princes, and the female elders are excellencies. They’re titles of respect, that’s all.”

“All right,” she said, letting go of that. “So what, it doesn’t matter. None of it matters. I’m mortal. You’re not. I’m human, and you’re not. We come from very different cultures; we have different expectations, abilities, and goals for our lives, and—”

“Stop,” he said. “You’re wasting time.”

Again, he caught her openmouthed. “What?”

“We’re still on our date, and you’re wasting time.” He glanced at the living room clock. “We have forty minutes to go before midnight.”

“You can’t be serious,” she said faintly.

“I am completely serious,” he said. He prowled close, took her hand and yanked her to her feet. “You made a bargain. You’re going to stick to it.”

“Khalil, no,” she said.

“Yes.” He looked ruthless. Worse, he looked about as calm as she had felt mere moments ago. “Not everything that happened was a disaster. You had fun up to a certain point. You laughed and were happy. I was watching you. I understand the stories your face tells so much better than I did before. I know what your happiness looks like now.”

She shivered as his intense male energy slid against hers, and they aligned again. That strange thing they did together felt more than good. It felt incredible. She struggled to ignore it and whispered, “That doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

“You’re wrong,” he said, with such confidence it shook her. It really shook her. “The kiss wasn’t a disaster. It was perfect.”

She swallowed hard. She didn’t want to think about that kiss, because he was right, it had been perfect. His wonder, their tender exploration. “I…don’t think it counts when you weigh that against everything else.”

“Of course it counts,” he said. He stroked her cheek, down her neck, and along the edge of her neckline. He watched where his fingers trailed, his expression turning hungry. He told her huskily, “I had to release my other form so I could transport back. I do not have the Power to create it a second time in one evening. Although I want to, very much.”

Grace’s heart started to pound. She swallowed hard and whispered, “I shouldn’t have left you like that.”

“I shouldn’t have left you alone at the bar,” he whispered back. His fingertips trailed down her bare arms, then his hands settled firmly on her hips. He lowered his face to hers, slowly, eyes intent.

“We should have left as soon as we saw how busy it was.” Her eyelids felt so heavy. They fluttered shut.

“I should have kissed you a second time in the car. And a third time.” His mouth settled over hers, and he kissed her deeply, in a spiraling aggression that she met with her own escalating urgency. He growled at the back of his throat and muttered against her lips, “This is not the same. But it is still so damned good.”

Arousal pulsed through her in a gush of heat, agonizing and delicious. Her nipples peaked, and the delicate, private area between her legs ached. Khalil hissed against her lips, and his energy roared in response, a flash fire of raw sexuality.

“Is it…less?” she asked.

“No,” he murmured. “It is different, that is all. But I want to know what it is like to make love to you the way humans do. I have never made love to anyone like that before.”

Never?

She whimpered. “Make love?”

He ran his hot mouth over her cheek and down her neck. “Make love,” he said against the tender skin at the base of her throat. “I want you to teach me everything you know. I want us to teach each other. I want you to show me how good it can feel to be skin to skin. But right now, Gracie…” He lifted his head and looked down at her gravely. “Let me show you how I can make love to you.”

She didn’t even think to say no, because that was how far he took her in a single conversation, how much farther they had come since they had first met. Instead, she looked up into his starred eyes as she slipped her fingers into his midnight hair, pulling it free from the tie as she told him, “Yes, please.”

He smiled as he stroked her face. Then he kissed her again, and all his aggression and intensity came roaring back as he drove deep into her soft, inviting mouth. His sexuality danced along her skin, and her hunger for him flashed hotter, brighter. He groaned, or she did. The silk of his long hair tangled in her fingers as she fisted it, kissing him back with jerky, out of control movements. Then he lifted her up.

Not with his hands.

His presence intensified, and her feet left the ground.

It took a few moments for realization to sink in. Breathing heavily, disoriented, she stopped kissing him. “Wait—are you…?”

“Wait, what?” he asked, cupping her face in both hands as he nipped gently at her lips. At the same time, his large, strong hands spread across her back. “Am I, what?”

What?

She dragged her mouth away and looked around wildly.

She was suspended a few inches off the floor, completely supported in midair. Her feet didn’t dangle. Her knee wasn’t strained in the slightest. Khalil watched her expression with a heavy-lidded gaze, his lips curved in that sinful, sensual smile.

As his hands—both his hands—slid under the hem of her top and spread around the sides of her rib cage, resting against her skin.

And long, hot fingers slid through her short hair, cupping and massaging the back of her head.

And two hands slid down her thighs, to the sensitive skin at the back of her knees, cupping them firmly.

She stared at him, blank with shock. “Khalil.”

His smile widened, a tender, mischievous look. “Relax, I’ve got you,” he murmured. Then his smile was burned to vapor by the incandescence inside of him, and all that was left on his elegant face was savage hunger. “My gods, I can feel you everywhere.”

Because they were aligned, Power to Power, male to female, his presence surrounding and sustaining her. Her lips trembled as she whispered, “I’ve never felt anything like it, like you.”

His diamond eyes blazed. “Good.”

His head drove down, and he took her mouth again, hard, and she lost track of everything. Her thinking burned to ash.

His hands were everywhere at once. Literally. Clever fingers teased her tank top up and caressed the underside of her breasts, trailing in decreasing circles until they reached her pink-tipped nipples. He rolled the sensitive tips between thumbs and forefingers.

While clever fingers edged their way under the hem of her shorts, tracing the crease where her buttocks met her thighs, easing around to the front and teasing the sensitized skin of her inner thighs before they burrowed gently underneath the elastic of her panties.

While the clever fingers supporting the back of her knees coaxed her legs apart.

And he kissed and kissed her, hungrily, gently, changing the tempo and the pace and the depth as he dug in deep with his tongue, and then he eased back to lick lightly at the corner of her shaking mouth.

At the same time, his hot, moist lips ran along the back of her neck, and he licked the racing pulse at her throat.

And his mouth followed up the curved line of her ribs as he unfastened her bra. He squeezed her breast gently as he took her nipple in his mouth and suckled.

As he squeezed and kneaded her other breast gently and took that nipple and suckled, nipping at it carefully with his teeth.

Oh, my gods, he was suckling both her breasts.

At the same time.

While he tore away her shorts and panties, and growled into her mouth as he kissed her, and drove his tongue onto the soft, fluted flesh of her labia, and licked his way to the stiff little bud of her clitoris. She flung out her hands, groping uselessly, desperately for something of him to hold on to, and he clasped both her hands in his warm, firm grip as he worked her everywhere.

And even as he drove her to the most intense, mindless frenzy she had ever been in, she felt him press a tender kiss at the base of her spine.

It was beyond perfect.

He was everywhere, everywhere, hard edged and hungry, exploring the most private areas of her body with tender greed. She flung her head back and shrieked, muscles trembling from the strength of the passion that poured out of her. It poured into him and came back, stronger and harder, only then it was his passion, driving into her.

He said against her lips, “I’ve got to come inside of you.”

“Then get the hell in here,” she screamed. She sounded like she felt, completely insane.

He pressed at her swollen, aching entrance, and it felt good and right, a thick, hard cock pushing into her emptiness, filling her up, while at the same time he flicked at her clitoris with his tongue and licked at her labia and sucked on her nipples and stroked so gently down her back and held both of her hands like he was her very best friend. Somebody was swearing raggedly, an incoherent stream of profanity, and she thought it might be her…

And he said, “Grace.” Just that.

Even at the height of her insanity, the sound of his pure voice pulled at her. She opened her eyes.

He had lost his physical form and any semblance to being human. Black smoke swirled around her. She rested in the center of the cyclone. His crystalline eyes were right in front of her, glowing with Power and emotion. She thought she caught a glimpse of long black hair, blowing across a hint of his elegant face.

The queen of all epiphanies cracked her wide open. She was driven beyond thought, language or all sense of her own form.

That was when he came inside of her, in a furious blaze of incandescence, and she could tell this was his true climax.

Both of her Powers, the one she was born with and the one she inherited, rose up to claim him, even as he blanketed her with his own bright, immortal Power. As they tangled together, closer than lovers, she felt her own physical body peak. The most exquisite completion of pleasure rippled out of her. She felt his presence shudder as it hit him.

His ravenous aggression transformed to reverence. She could feel every nuance of emotion in him, from an intense male satisfaction that he had brought her such pleasure, to his own shocked wonder at their joining and a deep wellspring of caring.

There was no way to hide anything from each other. She was so purely naked, she felt helpless as a newborn. She fell back into the shell of her physical body and realized she was shivering spasmodically. His physical form solidified as she came back into herself. He was naked and on his knees, his cock still pressed inside of her. She sat in his lap, legs splayed wide, her arms resting limply around his neck. His arms clenched tight around her.

“You destroyed me,” she whispered as she shivered. The words never even struck her as histrionic because they were so true. She was back in her body, but she wasn’t yet in control of it again. She wasn’t even the same person.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered into her hair. He rocked her. “I’ve got you.”

She put her head on his shoulder. She got a sense of movement as he took her up the stairs. She was fairly certain he didn’t walk. Then they reached her bedroom. Her long unused bed was simply made with sheets and a bedspread. He eased her down on the bed. She turned over to curl on her strong side.

He settled into place behind her and wrapped an arm around her, spooning with her.

He didn’t have to. His presence was absolutely in her bedroom, with or without his physical body. He must have wanted to. He must have known she needed it. She felt his lips against her shoulder. Then he put his face in her hair.

He rubbed her thigh gently. Eventually her shivering stopped.

They didn’t speak. She, for one, had nothing to say.

She had learned another thing she couldn’t unlearn now that she knew it. Her slippery slope hadn’t thrown her down a hill. It had, instead, shoved her into an entirely different dimension. She had always scoffed at people who fell in love when they had sex. She’d always been convinced that they confused an intensity of experience with the real emotion.

But Khalil had shattered her understanding of what it meant to make love. She had reformed into someone else, a humble stranger to herself.

That stranger knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she had been falling in love with him for a while. And she could not imagine ever wanting to make love with anyone else again. He had taken all of her desire with such complete effortlessness she had not even been aware at the time that she was giving everything she had to him.

She closed her eyes and fell asleep.

Even in her sleep, she felt the last miniscule shift in the lunar cycle that brought the Oracle’s moon.