Wicked Lies: A Dark Mission Novella by Karina Cooper

wasn’t fair, but fuck it. He hurt too much to be fair.
    Setting his jaw, he grabbed the back of the couch with one hand and pulled himself up, inch by excruciating inch.
    Just in time to meet the most exotic eyes he’d ever seen. Nearly purple, they locked on to his over Jonas’s shoulder, flared once, and narrowed as her full mouth twisted into a crooked grin. “Easy, kiddo,” she said, stepping away from Jonas’s embrace.
    That’s right , Danny thought in silent challenge. His throat closed. “You don’t get to say that to me.”
    “Danny—”
    The woman Jonas called Nai snorted a laugh too sharp to be called ladylike, but real humor glinted in her eyes as she unhooked a bag from her shoulder and tossed it to the floor. The couch thudded beneath him. “Relax,” she said, though Danny wasn’t sure to which one of them.
    He glared at her, sucking down air, fingers white-knuckled in the couch fabric.
    Jonas shook his head. “This is Danny,” he said, turning. “Danny, Naomi West.”
    “Missionary—”
    “Ex,” Jonas corrected, his grin flickering in his eyes as he pointed at her. “Don’t you forget it.”
    It was taking everything he had to remain sitting up. Danny couldn’t force the words out, but he didn’t have to. Naomi did it for him. “I’m on your team,” she told him.
    He doubted that.
    “Or,” she amended as she circled the couch, “I’m on Jonas’s team.” Again, a grin. This one was all teeth, white and even. She met his glare, matched it with a cocked eyebrow that glittered in the lamp light. “Jonas, you didn’t tell me the kid was so spiky.”
    “You like them spiky,” came his reply, but Danny’s gaze flicked aside. Studied the man whose voice didn’t sound right.
    Too cheerful. Too light.
    “What’s wrong?” he demanded.
    “Nothing.”
    “Liar.” His mouth wasn’t taking direction anymore.
    As alarm guttered a nanosecond after the accusation, Naomi rocked back on her heels, her hands going to her hips. Her shirt—some kind of neoprene material made of straps—stretched over her chest as she laughed outright. “Somebody’s got your number.”
    “Oh, shut up.” But there was no heat in Jonas’s reply. No sting.
    And he wouldn’t meet Danny’s eyes.
    Instead, he walked to the foot of the couch, and with a start, Danny realized he limped.
    No, not quite. He hobbled .
    Eyes widening, gut churning through pain and into shock, Danny watched as his mystery angel braced a thin, faintly scarred hand on the edge of the couch by Danny’s shoulder, lowered himself with effort, and picked up a pair of crutches from the floor.
    He didn’t remember doing it. Couldn’t recall telling himself to do it. All he knew was that his hand was suddenly on Jonas’s, bloody fingers tight around his.
    Jonas froze.
    “Are you okay?” It came out rougher than Danny meant. Worried. Thick with too many emotions, too many feelings all wrapped up in one place. Pain and anger and fear and doubt. Exhaustion battled them all.
    For a split second, something raw and dark opened up behind the man’s mixed brown-green eyes.
    And just like that, it was gone. Jonas pulled his hand away, fussed with the crutches. “You’re in shock, kid,” he said, his gaze touching Danny’s. Skating away. “You’re practically bleeding out of your ears over there. Nai, can you help him?”
    The woman stirred, and Danny’s head whipped around to meet a gaze that didn’t bother hiding her interest. Or her challenge. “Hell, yeah. It’ll take a while to kick in, though, so I’ll start now and then come back in a couple days when he’s able to move and we’ll get him somewhere safe.”
    “Good. How long do you need?”
    “I need you out of my hair,” she replied easily. “Why don’t you let me do my heretical thing?”
    “Baby, you say all the sweetest things,” Jonas tossed over his shoulder. “I’m going to go get some supplies. Don’t burn the place down, okay?”
    “Can’t