No Rest for the Witches by Karina Cooper Read Free Book Online Page A

And Joel had barely gotten him out before Phin had gotten himself killed. Thank God for small favors.
    If Phin died, who would take care of Naomi?
    He almost laughed, but it hurt too much to take that deep a breath.
    That was assuming she needed care. This place she lived in, it was almost enough to forget everything for a while. Lose himself in. Everything smelled like flowers and sulfur; a strange kind of spicy fragrance that made him think of warm climates. Long, slow days in the sun.
    This place completely blew his mind.
    At the base of the porch, the ground was black with rich earth and speckles of yellow sulfur deposits. Rocky outcroppings hugged the shore, where the greenest water he’d ever seen lapped at the canyon walls. Steam rolled across the surface, ghostly wisps of gray and white. To his left, lush green foliage shrouded what looked to be some kind of path—glassy black stones paved the way into the miniature jungle.
    As he gingerly made his way down the three porch steps, every movement, every breath jarred his wrapped shoulder. He grimaced, hoping Silas’s “in no time” translated to “immediately.” He’d never been shot before now. Even Carson, the rat fink bastard, had only stabbed him.
    A subtle whiff of something much more delicate caught his attention. He glanced up, inhaling deeply, and smiled in surprise as purple flower petals scattered across the roof of the green house.
    A real fairy tale place.
    Almost as if nothing else existed. No city, no Church. No urgency.
    His smile faded as he dropped his gaze back to the wooden dock jutting out into the water. The woman he loved crouched there, her fingers trailing into the green liquid, and something hot and sweet filled his heart.
    The first time he’d kissed her, Naomi had been crouched the same way in Timeless’s courtyard pond. The water then hadn’t been as warm as it was now, and he wondered what she’d do if he picked her up and waded with her into the steam-covered bay.
    Of course, he thought as his shoulder throbbed steadily, the odds of that weren’t great.
    She stared out at the canyon wall, fingers trailing lazily across the surface. Ripples spread out in tangled circles. Her full, kissable mouth was turned down at the corner, a deep line of something Phin didn’t know how to read.
    It had been at least a month since he’d seen her. A month of empty nights, desperate dreams.
    And it had taken him getting shot to get here. His mother getting arrested.
    His footfalls crunched as he limped to the dock. Every beam creaked, and he watched her shoulders stiffen.
    Not a good sign.
    Phin didn’t touch her. Simply watched the back of her head, her hair tinted in purple streaks and sliding across her nape. The jeweled beads pierced through the back of her neck weren’t visible, but he knew if he swept her hair aside, ran his fingers across her sensitive skin, he’d find them.
    He exhaled, a short burst of soundless need.
    Now wasn’t the time. But then, was it ever?
    â€œWhat’s going on?” His voice drifted into the steam-ridden air and faded.
    Naomi didn’t look at him. “I’m sorry about Lillian.”
    â€œSilas and Jessie are working on that.” And he had to let them; had to be okay with his inability to help. He’d never been that much of a fighter—Naomi could kick his ass with a hand tied behind her back—and the healing wounds he sported now convinced him of it.
    His job was to heal up. To start planning for the next step.
    It would involve every contact he’d ever had, but he could do it. He had to. Lillian needed to get out of this city, and he was the only one who could scrape together the means to do it. Which meant he had to stay calm now, and trust in Naomi’s friends.
    â€œI meant,” he continued lightly, “why are you out here alone?”
    She rose, a long, lithe flex of incredible grace, and turned on