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

“You’re going to need to hear that lecture sometime,” Harper said.

“Probably some mental help, too,” I said under my breath. “Can I see him now?”

“No.” Then Harper called over her shoulder, “And if you hit that wall again, Tough, I swear I’ll have someone come in and bless this entire house.” She pointed at me. “You’re bloody, weak, and half-naked. You two need to get this through your thick skulls—vamps are predators. Letting Tough come in here would be like hanging some steaks on a baby and setting a werewolf loose.”

“Fine,” I said.

Tough knocked, softly this time.

Harper sighed.

“I’m not trying to be a bitch,” she said. “You can’t be like this around him anymore. Maybe it was okay to be weak where you’re from, but it’s not here. Weak equals prey. NPs back home messed with you all the time, didn’t they?”

Not just NPs. Weak nerds occupy that lucky class that gets picked on by people and non-people alike.

“Yeah.”

“And your sister protected you from the worst of it?”

I nodded. Except when she was with Dad, or skipping school with her boyfriends, or later, locked in our room with her music cranked, dreaming about fallen angels.

“Unless you’re going to go join her and Kathan, you need to grow up,” Harper said.

I nodded again. Then I cleared my throat and raised my voice—“Tough, go away.”

There was a shifting in the hall, like someone putting their weight on a different foot.

“Please, Tough,” I said. “I need another shower. Then you and I need to talk.”

Tough

I dug a couple shirts out of my laundry basket and held them up for Colt.

Gray or blue? I asked him.

For a long time, he just stood there staring.

Something wrong?

Colt flinched and snapped out of it.

“No.” He took the gray shirt and pulled it on. The bottom of the tattoo on his left arm still stuck out the sleeve, but having the cross covered helped. I could even look at it without getting knocked on my ass—“will not leave you or forsake you until all the work for the service of the house of—” I had to stop reading there, but I remembered how the verse ended.

Guess it depends on who the “you” is, I thought. Some guys got resurrected. Other guys could commit suicide-by-vamp and damn their eternal soul to Hell and No One would lift a fucking finger. It was pretty hard not to be jealous of shit like that.

“What?” Colt asked.

You got some new tats, I said.

He gave me a suspicious look. “Yeah?”

Yeah. My head was killing me. I tried to massage some of the throbbing out of the spot where my skull connected with the back of my neck.

“That’s it?” Colt asked.

What else would there be?

“I don’t know… What about them?”

Nothing. It was just something to say.

Colt shook his head. “Everything leads somewhere.”

Where would it lead? I say you got new ink, you say yeah, then I say let’s go downstairs so we don’t have to talk to each other anymore.

For another couple seconds, Colt watched me like I might sucker punch him. Finally, he relaxed. I squeezed the back of my neck and wished that the bass in my head would either stop pounding or pick a tempo and stick with it. To top that off, my hands were starting to shake again. I needed a drink.

Let’s just go downstairs, I said.

***

When we came down, Harper and Desty were too occupied with what they were doing to look at us.

“You’re still not counting fast enough,” Harper said. “Start again. Go.”

She had her arms around Desty’s waist and she was leaning over Desty’s neck like a vamp drinking. For a minute I just stood there staring at them. Desty looked so hot with Harper holding her that way. I knew Harper wasn’t a vamp, but I knew what she’d be feeling if she was one and she was drinking out of Desty.

Then Desty’s legs gave out. Since Harper was so much shorter than Desty, all she could do was slow down her fall. My throat went dry and I started to move. Harper flashed her crucifix at me over Desty’s shoulder. It held me off, but just barely.

“Keep your feet under you,” Harper coached her. “If you end up on the ground, he’s going to be on top of you before you can move. Then—”

“Then you’re dead,” Desty interrupted like she’d heard that a hundred times already. She was still hanging in Harper’s arms, but now she had her feet on the floor.

“You know, if you don’t want to take this seriously, Scout’s pretty keen on getting Tough to be her protector,” Harper said.

“I am taking it seriously,” Desty said. “Sorry, I just— When do I stand back up?”

“Go ahead,” Harper said, still staring me down with the crucifix.

When Desty stood up and turned around to face me and Colt, she got all self-conscious and started adjusting her shirt and pushing her bangs out of her face.

“Hey,” she said. “Um, the lesson’s over. We were just practicing. Or whatever you want to call it.”

“Hey, Colt,” Harper said.

“Hey, Harper.” Colt nodded at her. Then he looked at Desty.

“Hi,” she said.

“Uh, hi.”

You guys are making me feel awkward, I said. Colt, this is Desty. Introduce yourself so I don’t have to go find some paper.

“Yeah, sorry,” Colt said. “Desty. Tough told me you guys were together. I’m—I’m—” Suddenly Colt’s heart was going a hundred miles a minute. He tried taking a breath, but it got caught in his throat. “Dammit—just four—it shouldn’t be this hard.”

Harper shot me a look like What the hell? I don’t know what she