Wicked Lies: A Dark Mission Novella by Karina Cooper Read Free Book Online

back.”
    He stepped out of the cab, leaving Jonas to stare at Danny’s quiet, sleeping form. He hadn’t stirred much, save to mutter now and again when the vehicle rocked him one way or the other. Jonas had let him go as soon as the kid drifted to sleep, but he didn’t go far.
    He told himself it was to keep Danny from hurting himself with the van’s turning radius.
    Now, easing away from the warmth of Danny’s side, Jonas collected his bag and crutches and pushed open the back doors. Worry gnawed at him. “He’s been out for about ten minutes,” he said as Gordon caught the swinging door.
    “I got him.”
    No argument, no questions asked. The missionary waited for Jonas to slide out of the vehicle—easier to get out than in—and ducked inside. Jonas jammed his arms into the crutches, gritting his teeth.
    A quiet little voice in his head told him he should have been the one collecting Danny. Pulling him into his arms, cradling his fragile, broken body like—
    No way. Absolutely no way in hell. Jonas didn’t have that kind of strength, and even if his legs could hold the weight for two, Danny was taller than he was. Even a little wider. Against the missionary’s solid muscle, Jonas didn’t even stand a chance in comparison. He knew missionaries built like brick walls, knew others built more like lean, lethal machines.
    Jonas was built like a nerdy school kid.
    Gritting his teeth, he stepped back as Gordon jumped from the van, Danny held in his arms like his limp, curled figure didn’t weigh a thing. Wordlessly, Jonas turned in an awkward semicircle and led the way into the open-air apartment complex.
    He had strengths that didn’t involve, well, strength . King of the wave. Second only—and he could admit it—to a rebellion leader with a vendetta against the Church. He didn’t mind keeping that kind of hallowed company.
    And Danny Granger was that leader’s grandson.
    No matter what kind of hints the kid had been dropping throughout that entire rescue, even if it turned out—God help him—that Danny had been serious as a bullet, it didn’t matter. He owed May a hell of a lot more than screwing around with a member of her family.
    Besides, what were the odds?
    “Which one?”
    Jonas jerked his head—which managed to yank the too-long edges of his light brown hair from his eyes, but skewed his glasses—and took a second to orient himself. The tenements were nestled into an open square, bordering a courtyard abandoned to disuse and disrepair. Lights affixed to the outside of each door flickered uncertainly; more busted out than still working. It outlined the remains of some kind of garden now given way to broken bits of mortar and brick, discarded tires, fragments of glass, appliances piled in heaps, and the remains of a fire. The air was cooler this far down in New Seattle’s hierarchy of streets. Part of it was the depth. No sun came this far. Even summer’s rare cloudless days didn’t matter much in the scheme of things.
    At nearly midnight, most of the chill forced below between thunderstorms and a biting wind settled in for the duration. He shivered, only now remembering the coat he’d left behind in his hurry to get Danny to safety.
    “Apartment fifteen,” he finally said, pointing with the end of one crutch. “There. First floor.”
    It took effort not to turn around. To check on the unconscious body in Gordon’s arms. Reassure himself that the kid still breathed.
    Instead, firming his grip on his crutches, he headed for the safe house Naomi assured him would be, well, safe.
    It took only a few more moments to input the security code into the neatly concealed panel, open the door and let Gordon carry Danny inside. There wasn’t much to it: one room, a half-kitchen along the far eastern wall, beige carpet, beige hide-a-bed couch, and green blinds over the two windows. Across from the sofa, a single door probably led to the bathroom. A back door in the kitchen had been boarded up, which