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

him. The look in her eye confused as much as it challenged him. He recognized it—fear. Echoed fear that they’d be too late, shared fear of losing Lillian.
    Phin had already lost one mother. But for Naomi, who’d somehow bonded with Gemma in ways he didn’t understand, this had to be worse. She’d been betrayed by her own mother as a child, and what scars that act left were made worse by years of working as the Mission’s best assassin.
    Phin spent every moment with her trying to combat those scars. Sometimes, she didn’t let him.
    He reached out to touch her cheek.
    She caught it in a grip made of steel. “Don’t,” she said softly. The green water behind her made her eyes look startlingly violet. And just as glassy.
    Phin didn’t tug his hand free. Didn’t even flinch, his gaze serious. “What did I tell you?” he asked, and didn’t let her turn away as she dropped his hand. Instead, ignoring her warning, he slid his fingers into her hair and tilted her face up to his. His thumb stroked across her cheek. “Remember?”
    â€œI don’t—”
    â€œThree months,” he said over her. In his bare feet, he was only a few inches taller than her. Which put her mouth temptingly close to his. It quirked, now, but downward. A frown.
    â€œPhin.”
    Only an excuse would follow that tone. His ex-missionary had a hell of a martyr complex. He grinned, angling his body so that she had only one way to go to escape—into the water. She took a step back. Her heel hit the edge of the dock, and as she stiffened, he filled her space.
    His chest to hers. Thigh to thigh.
    Her full mouth parted on a gasp.
    Phin’s fingers tightened in her silky, pin-straight hair. As her tongue slid out to lick the small silver hoop at the center of her full lower lip, his gaze dropped to it.
    Heart hammering, he said, “Remember, Naomi? Three months, I said we’d be right here again.”
    Her lashes flickered, a thick black veil that did nothing to hide a sudden bleakness in her eyes. “Now’s not the time, Phin,” she said, echoing his earlier thought. She leaned so far back, all he’d have to do was breathe wrong and she’d fall into the water.
    She didn’t want him close.
    He dropped his hand as disappointment welled up beside the heat that never seemed to go away when she was involved. He wanted her. He loved her.
    He’d promised her forever.
    But damn, if she didn’t make it difficult.
    â€œWe never have the time,” he told her. She ran a hand down her face, trying to ease away the hollow circles under her eyes. “We make the time. Naomi, we’ve still got each other.”
    â€œYeah?” He watched it happen; saw the gates slam shut behind her beautiful face. Saw that stony resolve roll into her head, her heart. “You think that’ll matter when your mother’s dead, slick?”
    Pain, worse than any bullet, stole his breath. Crunched like glass in his gut, and he took a step back. “Jesus, Naomi.”
    Her jaw tightened, fists clenched at her sides.
    The steam drifted across his bare feet, slid along her legs. For a long moment, he could only stare at her. What was wrong with her? Was she angry?
    Was she fishing for something?
    She watched him, faced him dead-on like a snake ready to strike. He could all but sense the anticipation around her, and suddenly, he got it.
    She was trying to put distance between them. Trying to crowbar herself away.
    Phin closed his eyes as exhaustion battered at him. Physical, mental. Hell, even his spirit felt wrung out.
    â€œFine,” he said, and shifted to give her enough room to pass him. “We’ll talk later.”
    Her eyes widened. Narrowed just as fast, and with her chin high, she strode past him. Her shoulder brushed against his chest, clipped his wounded shoulder, and he let out a strangled note as it knocked the air out of him.
    Naomi spun,