Honkytonk Hell: A Dark and Twisted Urban Fantasy (The Broken Bard Chronicles Book 1) by eden Hudson (ebook reader with highlight function .TXT) 📗

have been able to talk when I saw her wearing Colt’s gray Lucky-logo shirt with the armholes that were torn almost all the way to the bottom. He’d had that crappy thing since before Dad died.

“Admiring my shirt?” Mikal asked, doing a spin so I could see her wings poking out the armholes and the lacy red underwear she had on. “Your brother and I were busy and this was the first thing I could find to throw on. I’m anxious to get back to him, too, so if you don’t mind, let’s keep this brief. What do you want?”

I didn’t really know. Plans weren’t my strong suit. The only thing I’d come up with while I was driving was to floor it through the front of the mansion, but seeing the barn just sitting there like nothing had changed had made me wonder whether the basketball hoop was still in the hayloft. And why hadn’t Kathan torn the barn down when he burned the farmhouse? I wound up sitting there long enough for a foot soldier on rounds to see me and bring me in.

“You’ve been drinking,” Mikal said.

Not enough.

“Well, if you came for a threesome, I’m game, but you’ll have to ask Colter first.”

I looked around the parlor, wondering whether Rian had brought Desty in here. Seemed like this was always the first place they threw me.

If I tried, I could sort of see the place through her eyes—a mansion I’d never been in before, that wasn’t built on the ashes of the farmhouse I grew up in, that I’d never been dragged into in chains. Not hating the place would make it look different.

“Or did you come to beg me to release Colt?” Mikal asked. “I won’t, but it’s nice to be asked. Makes it seem like you care what happens to him.”

Somebody doesn’t like being ignored. I kept on looking around like I hadn’t heard her.

Three ugly-ass windows lined the top half of the southern wall. Pieces of red and black stained glass showed an angel with a flaming sword in the process of falling from Heaven, then rising up on Earth with tar-covered wings, then leading an army to war. I shivered, then winced at the spike of pain in my side. Those freaking windows were creepy, the way they kept trying to move and change.

“He’s been talking a lot about you lately, Tough,” Mikal said, following me with her eyes. “Seeing you the other night must’ve set him off. I didn’t know he saved you from a siren back when you were still a blushing virgin. Two teenage boys alone in the woods—you probably lit up her radar like a pair of fighter jets. You should see the picture quality in Colt’s brain. The peripheral’s detailed enough to see you high-tailing it while he fought her.”

I took a deep breath, deep enough to pop that rib out and shoot pain in every direction. Mikal was just trying to piss me off, get me to attack her or do something else stupid. Like coming here in the first place didn’t point to serious brain damage.

She stepped up on the platform at the east end of the room and sat on the edge of the King-of-Halo chair, crossing her legs.

“He’s getting a little foggy on the timeline, though. That siren thing was about a year before he kicked you out for selling it to Mitzi and Jason, right?” She looked down at my fly, then back up at me. “That’s my Colt—always fighting for the lost cause.”

I’ve never hit a woman before in my life, NP or not, but I had to dig my fingers into the broken rib to keep from going after Mikal. For the most part, the pain made the urge to knock her pretty white teeth down her throat fade away, but I had to do something. I made the sign of the cross at her with my forearms.

I blinked and Mikal was standing over me holding a flaming sword like the one from the window. She brought it up to my face and the flames stretched toward me until they singed the stubble on that cheek.

“Colt tells me that you had night terrors for years after I killed your mother. What frightened you the most, Tough? The sound of her skull cracking under my boot? Or was it the screaming? Those rock magazines were always saying that Shannon could scream like a banshee.”

Something I didn’t know fallen angels could do—show you the past when you’re looking into their eyes. Mikal made me see a few of things she’d done way back in the Old Testament days. The babies were the worst. If I wasn’t so great at not thinking about stuff, I’d probably still be having flashbacks.

“I fought under His signs before time existed, Tough. I left Him, and your tiny cockroach brain will never even begin to understand what that means.”

My lungs started losing it because I hadn’t taken a breath in just short of forever.

Mikal smiled, leaned closer, and whispered, “Throw that cross up again. It reminds me of all the fun I’m going to have when your turn comes.”

Behind us, someone started clapping. Mikal stepped back and took a bow. The sword disappeared.

“Well done, Tough,” Kathan said, leaning with his shoulder against the doorjamb. “Most people who see Mikal’s little display embarrass themselves one way or another. Pissing their pants seems to be the most popular. Interestingly enough, the second-most popular is uncontrollable erections, but I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt considering your age and the fact that Rian stopped you with a beautiful young lady earlier.”

Kathan was alone, which threw me because I’d assumed Desty would be with him. But the bastard did look like he had just fallen out of bed with one or two beautiful girls. Maybe