Wicked Lies: A Dark Mission Novella by Karina Cooper Page A

promise.”
    Danny tracked him as he crossed the floor, blinked hard at the front door as it closed behind him.
    What did he just miss?
    Fabric rustled as Naomi crouched beside him. “You look like hell.” Abrupt. No coddling.
    A missionary, huh?
    He let himself fall back on the cushions, every muscle in his body giving up the ghost with a groan. “Go away,” he told her, knowing it came out petulant as hell and unable to help it.
    And damned if her eyes didn’t light up. Laughter? She folded her arms on her bent knees, head tilting. Her tongue slid out over the ring pierced through the middle of her lower lip before she offered, “So, here’s the deal, Danny. I’m here ’cause I have this ability to heal things. Broken things.” An eyebrow cocked. “Like you.”
    “You’re a witch.” It wasn’t quite a question, but then, Danny knew enough not to be surprised by witchcraft. His own grandmother had the blood. Not that she told people that.
    “Yeah, and right now, Jonas wants me to help you.” Her tone didn’t soften. Hell, it barely qualified as friendly. “I don’t know what kind of game you’ve got going for you, but it’s going to suffer if you can’t even sit up without help.”
    “I’m not—” Danny blinked. “Game? What?”
    Naomi’s smile took already breathtaking features and shot her natural beauty straight into the stratosphere. Piercings or not, the woman was a menace. “So close your eyes. Sleep, if you can. Makes my life easier.”
    She reached out. Danny caught her hand, but it took effort. Too much. Even moving his arm that much caused fresh sweat to break out across his chest and shoulders.
    To her credit—and okay, maybe she’d earned some—she didn’t pull away. She just watched him, a steady kind of stare that told Danny everything he needed to know about her own confidence. Her strength.
    A missionary and a witch.
    He’d ask Jonas about her. Later. Much later, when he figured out how to ease the hurt he’d seen in the other man’s eyes.
    “Why?” he demanded.
    “I’m asked to help, I help.” But that wicked mouth twisted. Not quite a smile. Not quite a frown. “And you remind me of someone I know. I think he’d like it if I gave his younger self a leg up.”
    He couldn’t stop himself. “Who?”
    Without so much as batting an eyelash, Naomi disengaged from his grip, caught his hand and set it lightly on the couch beside him. She didn’t even flinch at the filth coating his hands. “Maybe you’ll meet him one day” was all she said.
    Then her other hand settled over his eyes, cool and gentle, and Danny could have sworn that the ache in his battered flesh began to fade.
    Wishful thinking, maybe.
    “I can’t magically knit you up,” she told him. He listened, but the cadence of her voice settled into his head like a lullaby. Lulling. Soothing. “I can start the process, and you’ll heal a lot faster this way, but it still has to go through the steps. Don’t do anything stupid.”
    “’Kay,” he murmured.
    “Sleep as much as you can. Just do me a favor, kiddo.” Her voice whispered across his senses. Magic? He wouldn’t even know how to tell.
    “What?”
    “Go easy on him. He’s handled a lot of shit for us.”
    Danny let out a long, slow breath, aware of a knot loosening somewhere in his gut. His chest. “You know that I—” That he what? Liked the man?
    Wanted him to like Danny back?
    “Hell, no,” she chuckled. “I don’t know shit about shit, on average.” Her other hand settled over his heart, and suddenly Danny’s eyes grew heavy under her palm. He fought back a yawn. “But I know what I see when I see it. Sleep, Danny. You’re safe.”
    As he drifted off, lulled into complacency by her husky voice and some sense of relief, she murmured something that sounded suspiciously like, “Christ, he’s young.”

 
    Chapter Five
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    F IFTEEN HOURS OF uninterrupted sleep left Danny feeling disoriented, but Jonas had been there with a