Karina Cooper - No Rest for the Witches

N O R EST FOR THE W ITCHES

A Dark Mission Novella

K ARINA C OOPER

Contents

W e arent doing anything!

The headache Jessie Leigh had been nursing all day erupted into a full-blown migraine, scattering black spots at the corners of her vision. She pinched the bridge of her nose, hard enough for her short nails to leave half-moon indents, and tried for logic one more time. Naomi, Im sorry youre feeling cooped up

Thats a laugh.

but its not like we have much choice right now

Bullshit! Naomi West cracked her fist against the old convex refrigerator, an action that sent shockwaves of pain through Jessies skull as the metal loudly gonged.

The kitchen was too small for the three people already taking up space in it, and Jessie felt as if she were holding court behind the wooden island counter. A very small, very tense court. Sweat bloomed across her forehead, gathered between her shoulders; only partially a side effect of the volcanic hot springs buried in the Old Sea-Trench. As pain drilled holes through her head, the balmy air ratcheted toward sweltering.

Weve been over this and over this, Naomi continued, well on the way to the same old rant as she jerked the abused door open. The glass bottles inside clinked, shrieking across Jessies nerves. We cant just sit back and wait for crap to happen anymore. We need to move . Something. Hell, anything! Im sick of this.

She couldnt handle another argument with Naomi. Not now. Pressure filled her head.

Jessie scowled down at the vibrant purple tubers she held under the sinks modified faucet, fighting for patience. Fighting the temptation to lay her head down on the cool counter and take three freaking seconds to get herself back together.

It wasnt Naomis fault. The ex-missionary was wired for action. Jessie didnt know how many years the other woman had served in the Holy Order of St. Dominics witch-hunting unit, but a mere three months of deprogramming wasnt going to work miracles. Hell, the woman didnt even know how to take a day off. Every morning, Jessie found her out in the crescent-shaped bay that served as their refuge, working up a sweat. Punching, kicking, push-ups.

Naomi West was, in a word, exquisite. Or would be, Jessie thought as she viciously scrubbed caked dirt off the vegetables, if it werent for her foul mouth and balls-to-the-wall temper. With her half-Japanese features, blue-violet eyes, and trim, supermodel physique, she made Jessie feel like the ugly stepsister just by breathing the same air. She was taller than Jessie at a sleek five feet and eight inches, and much more exotic with purple streaks in her choppy, chin-length black hair and an array of facial piercings.

And yet, the woman was a walking powder keg of intensity. So much so that there were days when Jessie felt too damned wrung-out to deal with it. Like today.

They were supposed to be a team. Outcasts hiding outside the city, deep in the fault that had split underneath the old Seattle territory five decades ago. They were all criminals on the Holy Orders list, and they all wanted to help other people like them. They counted on each other.

That was the goal, anyway.

The ache intensified behind Jessies eyes as the woman slammed the refrigerator door shut. To her migraine-ridden brain, Naomi may as well have shattered glass and ground it into Jessies too-sensitive ears. Even the splashing water from the faucet grated.

She gritted her teeth. Naomi.

Wait, wait. Naomi gestured with the hand still holding her uncorked bottle, green glass flashing in the wintry sunlight. Let me guess: everything is still too dangerous after Timeless, she intoned in a falsetto that didnt sound anything like Jessies own voice, raising her black eyebrows high on her forehead. One glittered silver in the light streaming inside through the wide bank of windows, courtesy of two small rings pierced into the fine arch. We have to keep our heads down until the Church isnt looking anymore. She set her retrieved bottle of filtered water on the counter. The sound cracked; Jessie winced. Well, guess what, princess? They arent going to stop until Im dead or processed.

Were trying to avoid either of those, Jessie managed between clenched teeth.

Good for you. Id rather risk it out there than hide.

Naomi

Silas Smith straightened from his position against the far wall. Thats enough, West, he said, and his deep baritone sheared through what little amount of defense Jessie scraped together.

She buckled, grabbed the edge of the counter. The sound of two of the tuberous vegetables striking the floor was like thunder between her ears, painful and overwhelmingly deafening.

The knock in her head, in her willpower, intensified. Insistent.

See me.

She clutched at her skull, lips flat with strain.

Jessie?

Fuck . Silas moved, faster than her streaming eyes could place him. He was just suddenly beside her, one thick, muscled arm gentle around her shoulders, supporting her weight. Why didnt you say? He did his best to soften his voice to a murmur, but she still flinched as she met his angry gray-green eyes.

Not angry at her, Jessie knew. Not really. Concerned as hell, but he usually was.

Six months ago, hed been a witch hunter out for her brothers blood. Hed had no idea that the sister hed tried to trick into helping was also a witch, and all things considered, it was a miracle theyd survived the whole mess.

Silas had captured her heart, and for his part, hed turned his back on the Mission that had raised him.

But that didnt make settling into a kind of semi-retirement any easier for him to bear. She hated feeling like a burden; shed already cost him everything else. Jessie managed a tight, crooked smile. Just started. Every word felt clipped to the quick, but she didnt have it in her to moderate it anymore.

You should have said.

The headaches had crept on her slowly over the past couple of months, just a jab here and there. A twinge of pain, an echo of an ache that didnt seem to be linked to anything in particular. Her first migraine had sent her to Naomi, whod done something with her magical healing ability. The pain had eased, but it had never gone away.

Now, they came at Jessie the same way her visions did: slow, steady, building to a climax. Until now, shed been able to control her own power, unlike her little brother, whod often been blindsided by it.

Her ability was to see the present; see what was going on anywhere she wanted, if only she knew where to look. It was much better than her brothers far bleaker ability to see riddled aspects of the future, but now with the world pressing down on her hypersensitive senses, she wasnt feeling all that superior.

Her second sight didnt want to wait. Magic filled her mind. Her skin. Every breath and heartbeat and mote of light seared into her vision.

Jesus Christ, princess. Despite her aggravation, even Naomi gentled her tone. You know I can help.

Temporarily. That was true, but Jessie hadnt been feeling all that cordial as Naomid railed at her. Now, she just felt like an idiot.

Jessie let Silas sweep her into his arms, resting her throbbing head against his shoulder as he cradled her against his chest. Even with the pain slowly deconstructing every brain cell she had, her heart still thumped hard and fast when he touched her.