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

“Heard you almost made it out of town tonight,” Kathan said. He stepped up onto the platform and sat in the King-of-Halo chair Mikal had just left. “I think we’re going to have to shorten your leash a little, kid.”

I folded my hands together and pretended to beg sarcastically, but the way Kathan laughed evaporated some of my attitude.

“How’s this? Every day until you have a protector, you’re answering to Mikal.” He cocked his head at her. “You and your familiar can head into town once a day, can’t you?”

Mikal grinned.

“We’ve been wanting to get out more,” she said. “And anyway, I’d like to scout around for new meat. I don’t think Colter’s going to be with us much longer.”

Kathan nodded and smiled at me. “So, you came looking for trouble in true Whitney style. Was that enough? I know Mikal’s got something she calls The Ryder Special if you want some more. Or I guess you could pick up where Colt left off and see what she comes up with on the fly.”

I flipped him off.

Well, the sign of the cross didn’t bother them, so what was I supposed to do? It was the only other sign language I knew.

“Show him out,” Kathan said.

This time I didn’t blink. I know because I wouldn’t take my eyes off of Big, Bad, Power-Trip Kathan for a second. The whole room did a sort of skip, then Mikal had ahold of the back of my shirt collar, half-pushing, half-pulling me toward the door. She was a whole hell of a lot stronger than she looked and apparently she could do the radiant heat trick Kathan had used on my chains the other night, because when her hand bumped the back of my neck it sizzled.

The parlor door swung open and Desty and another girl came in. I know I was already supposed to know that they were identical twins, but it’s hard to get what that means until they’re standing next to each other. They had the exact same face.

Except there was a red mark under Desty’s eye that was going to bruise-out before too long. At least she was still dressed. The twin who was obviously not Desty—Tempie—had on some super-hot but not revealing enough lingerie and there were orange-ish streaks in her hair. Speaking of uncontrollable erections… Too bad about that hunk of metal in her nose, though.

“Since you’re here, Tough, you can drive Modesty back to town,” Kathan said. He passed me and Mikal and stopped between the twins. He was close enough that Desty had to feel him breathing on her hair. “If you would like to go, Modesty.”

I’m not usually the jealous type. If the girl I like loves my best friend, I get over it. But when Kathan ran his hand down Desty’s back and she flinched away, I felt like tearing him apart. I don’t know if that counts as jealousy, but she obviously didn’t want him to touch her, so I didn’t want him to, either. Whatever you call it, it’s a good thing Mikal hadn’t let go of me yet or Kathan probably would’ve killed me and then Desty would’ve had to walk back to town.

Desty looked at Tempie, who was wrapped around Cop-a-Feel Kathan’s opposite side.

“I need to go,” Desty said. “But I’ll be back.”

“Okay. Here—” Tempie gave Desty a hug and kissed her on the puffy spot under her eye. The swelling went down and the red disappeared. “Better?”

“How did you—”

“Power,” Tempie said. “I told you.”

Desty sighed and repeated herself—“I’ll be back.”

“Where’re you staying?” Tempie asked.

Desty glanced at me.

“With Tough,” she said.

Colt

I have a surprise for you, Colter. The tar-covered wings inside my head crackled and burned hotter, recreating the feeling of when Mikal first inflicted her essence on my brain—high-voltage current in places where there shouldn’t be any sensation.

What, did you nail a cat to the floor and set a mouse loose? I asked. That was an illustration Dad used to use back when he was still preaching.

We’re going to the bar tomorrow night to watch Tough play, Mikal said.

It was a trap. One of us was the cat nailed to the floor and the other was the mouse Mikal was going to smash.

I had this sick urge to laugh at the image of blood and guts spraying out from under a sledgehammer and no way to be sure the feeling came from Mikal. What if it was me? What if the black noise was somehow seeping past her essence?

No, she wouldn’t let that happen. I was hers to destroy. Letting me take myself down wouldn’t be any fun.

I’ve never had a familiar long enough for him to fall in love with me, Mikal said. I like it.

Fuck you, I said. This wasn’t love. It was some messed up combination of Fairhaven Syndrome and self-preservation.

You know you’ve lost when you spend the majority of your energy trying to convince yourself you haven’t, she said. It’s all right to admit that you love me. I saved you when no one else would. Not your father, not your family, and not God, no matter how much you begged Him.

Going for the hard-sell today, I said. Tired of waiting for me to crack?

She laughed. It’s always one step forward and three steps back with you, Colt.

Straightjacket sleeves jerked my arms tight around my chest. I couldn’t breathe. My heart couldn’t pump hard enough to force blood through the compression. Even though I knew it was an illusion, I started to panic. Bad dogs get punished.

Now, Mikal said, Who saved you from the black noise, Colter?

I pictured her beating Mom to death. Handing Kathan the sword for Dad’s execution. Chaining Sissy to that telephone pole and setting her on fire.