Free Oracle's Moon by Thea Harrison Page A

either enter into the bargain or not. Choose.”
    Information was a valuable commodity, especially to one who was not interested in material things.
    Smart. Dumb.
    The coin landed.
    “Okay?” she said. She hadn’t meant to sound so uncertain. “Who goes first?”
    “I offered the bargain,” he said. He placed the plastic container of CDs back on the filing cabinet. “I ask first.”
    She shrugged and waited. Her idiotic heart picked up its tempo as he studied her, and the silence stretched taut between them. All the ghosts were quiet, as if waiting and watching. She felt like she was standing in a combat arena, and the audience was watching closely to see if blood might spill on the sand.
    “What exactly do you know about summoning?” he asked. His laser-sharp gaze dissected every inch of her expression.
    She opened her mouth and closed it again. Of course he would ask that.
    She said, “I’ve seen summoning rituals in movies and read about them in novels, of course, but those tend to be silly, like portraying witches’ covens as child-sacrificing Satanists. There are a couple of spells that witches can use to summon a boost in Power, but they don’t make other creatures show up in a pentagram or compel them to obey. One calls upon the five elements—fire, wood, water, metal, earth. The other one is a spell that a witch can use to call on her own Power. I’ve heard that one is like calling up a rush of adrenaline. The problem with those is that they give a temporary boost, but they also drain the witch, so they can be dangerous to use, especially if the witch isn’t in a safe environment to recover afterward. When I’m petitioned, I call on the Oracle’s Power. I guess that’s a kind of summoning too.”
    Khalil strolled over to the futon. Her pillow was at one end, a sheet crumpled at the other. He flicked the sheet onto the floor, tossed the pillow on top of it, and sat with as much regality as a sovereign assuming his throne. “You talk of witches as though they are different from you,” he remarked.
    She looked sourly at her sheet and pillow on the floor. “I don’t hear a question in that,” she said. “And I wouldn’t have to answer if I did, would I?”
    “Not for this round,” he said. “Are you finished?”
    “Yes,” she snapped.
    “Proceed with asking your question,” he commanded. He crossed his arms.
    He looked powerful, exotic and oddly beautiful, and his Power filled the house again like it had the last time. It felt very male and altogether indifferent to her. By contrast, she felt sweaty, inelegant in every way and, even though she had bathed just a few hours ago, grubby. Disliking the feeling intensely, she mirrored his action, crossing her own arms, and scowled at him. “What do you know about summoning?”
    He raised an elegant, supercilious eyebrow. “I shall assume that you do not want to hear me lecture for a month.”
    She could have negotiated sarcasm out of the bargain, except if she had, she would have tied her own hands as well. She spun the office chair in a circle and informed him, “I’m bored now.”
    “You must have the attention span of a gnat,” he said.
    That surprised her into laughing out loud. He looked startled and grinned. The expression brought a shocking change to his hard face. Even as she hiccupped a little and stared, the grin vanished. He said, “For the purpose of this bargain, I shall try to answer your question in a way that is complete but also with some brevity.”
    “I had no idea Djinn were this pedantic,” she said. “It must come from all your preoccupation with bargaining.”
    He said between his teeth, “Do you want me to answer or not?”
    She gave him a sly, sidelong look. “If you don’t, doesn’t that mean I get a favor? If you owe me a favor, does that cancel out the one I owe you?”
    He chuckled, and that was the most dangerous sound he had made thus far. “You wish, human.”
    Attempting to mimic his regal,