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

I blew out a long breath and nodded. “Yeah, okay. Let me get a shirt.”

Grace waited while I grabbed my Lucky shirt, put on my shoes, and grabbed the .45. The magazine was on the floor—full, so I hadn’t shot anybody while I was blacked out. I tapped the mag twice on the grip, then slid it in.

Ryder laughed.

“I forgot you did that OCD shit,” he said.

“Me, too.” I shoved the .45 into the waistband of my jeans.

Grace followed me out of the cabin and headed for the creek. I jogged down to the shed.

“Where’re you going?” she yelled. “Colt!”

Ammo. Backup magazines. Semtex. Timers. Det-caps. What else?

Grace was standing behind me.

I nodded at the arsenal.

“Do you know how to use anything?” I asked her.

“No.” Then she stopped. “Well—” She held up her fists. “—I can do self-defense stuff.”

Not if she thought that was how you made a fist.

“It’s okay,” I said. “New plan. Go get the truck. Put it in first and ease it up the bank. Don’t gun it and don’t shift, even if you start sliding. When you get up here, back it up to the shed.”

Grace took off running.

I was forgetting something. I could feel it. My “Resist or Serve” tattoo burned like someone had dragged dry ice across my chest. I tried rubbing it, but it still stung like hell.

“It’s going to be bad, Sunshine.” Ryder was sitting on the Semtex crate. “I can’t help you once you’re inside the Dark Mansion. If you go back to that bitch, you ain’t ever going to be right in the head again.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Because I’m the picture of mental health right now.”

Tough

“This had better be damned important.” I could hear big, bad Mayor Kathan clear as day through the coffin. “In half an hour I’m going to have a parlor full of dignitaries waiting for me to welcome them to the Armistice Tenth Anniversary Celebration and—”

“We weren’t just going to leave him to take off when it got dark.” Bailey really had some big brass balls—I’ll give her that—but if she was a guy I bet Kathan would’ve ripped them off for interrupting him. “He killed Ajax Carpenter this morning and we’re petitioning for extermination.”

“Does this look like a city council meeting to you?” Kathan said. “Petition denied. Get out.”

“You can’t just deny it because you’ve—”

“The hell I can’t. The second Carpenter crossed the line between person and NP, he became responsible for his own defense,” Kathan said. “Mikal, show the Council how to use a fucking exit door.”

The sound of footsteps on thick carpet. A door shutting. One human heart and one old, old heart in the room with my coffin.

“Go ahead,” Kathan told someone. “Just no staking.”

The latch scraped and the lid opened. The can lights in the ceiling stabbed me in the eyes. Back at the house my pupils had adjusted to the dim light, but with the garlic paralyzing me, they couldn’t contract.

Stupid fucking being a vamp.

In my peripheral, I saw Kathan walking away, farther into this ugly-ass living room. Heard him sit down. Getting comfortable for the show, I guess. Then Desty’s face with Tempie’s nose ring leaned over me. She looked like she wanted to spit poison in my paralyzed-open eyes. Over the smell of girl and Kathan’s various bodily fluids, Tempie smelled sweet and sticky, like caramel.

“I cannot believe you cheated on my sister. And with that little blonde slut?” She shook her head, disgusted.

Great, so everybody knew about Scout. You really can’t keep a lid on shit in this town.

Tempie was looking into my eyes, so I tried that thing I’d done to Desty the other day.

Take the garlic out of my mouth. I showed her how, told her she wanted to, and tried to push it on her, but all that did was piss her off more.

“Do you have any idea what I am, you durr-Chevy-man-whore? I am the Destroyer. I can end you.” Tempie got this smile on her face like a little brat who knows she can get away with anything. “Kathan’s going to let me when Mikal gets done with you.”

I wished I could’ve made a smart remark to that, but even without the garlic, there was still that whole thing with Jason Gudehaus.

And Jax. Not having a voice anymore was that whole thing with Jason and Jax now. Why couldn’t Jax have been a little faster on the draw with his magic? He traded my voice for it, he should’ve known how to use it better.

Tempie grabbed my throat and dug her fingernails in. It felt like she was jamming knives into my windpipe.

“Desty’s the best thing that will ever happen to a walking postmortem-STD incubator like you,” she said. “And you traded her away for the first piece of ass that walked down the street.”

Tempie let go of my throat and hit me right above my broken rib. The whole left side of my rib cage caved in. She threw a pretty damn good punch for a human, let alone a girl.

“What’s your problem, anyway?” Tempie hit me again.

That hissing was definitely a lung collapsing. At least I didn’t need it anymore. For a second, I wondered why I didn’t black out from the pain. Then I remembered that vampires don’t lose consciousness, they’re either undead or dead, no in-between. One more perk of being a stupid fucking vamp.

I tried to keep thinking that so seeing Tempie cry wouldn’t kill me. Even with the nose ring and the hair and the bitchiness, she looked so much like Desty when she cried.

Then Tempie grabbed her spike-heeled hooker shoe and swung it at my chest.

“Temperance,” Kathan said.

She stopped short, opened her hand and let the