Honkytonk Hell: A Dark and Twisted Urban Fantasy (The Broken Bard Chronicles Book 1) by eden Hudson (best book series to read TXT) 📕

“Modesty,” Kathan said.

“Tough!” I heard Desty running, then she was leaning over me, looking down. She really was like an angel—the good kind that has your back, not the kind that’s always kicking your ass. “Are you all right?”

I nodded, but had to stop while my jaw and newest broken ribs snapped back together. Then my arm twisted and popped back into place. Desty had to shake seeing that off, so it must’ve looked as bad as it felt.

Then she helped me up and I kissed her. She tried to pull away, but I shot Kathan another one-fingered salute over her shoulder and squeezed her butt with my other hand.

“Tough.” Desty’s face was getting red.

I let her go. She looked at me for a second like “What the hell?” but she didn’t wait for an answer. She turned around to face Kathan and Tempie.

“You know I’m not ever going to become your familiar if you stake Tough,” Desty said. “It has to be a willing agreement on my part, doesn’t it? Or the Destroyer thing doesn’t work?”

Kathan gave her this Prince Fucking Charming smile.

“You have been doing your homework,” he said. “Don’t worry. According to the non-person laws, Carpenter provoked the attack by extracting Tough’s voice while Tough was still human. Tough was within his rights to retaliate. The Witches’ Council or any relatives of Carpenter’s can choose to pursue the matter, but Tough is free to leave right now. I won’t stop him. Hell, I’ll walk him to the door.”

I made a sarcastic laugh-face at him.

“Oh. Okay,” Desty said. Her shoulders relaxed some and she pushed her hair off of her face. “So he’s completely off the hook?”

“He has nothing to fear from a non-person legal standpoint,” Kathan said.

I could feel the rest of the tension bleed out of her. She’d been really wound up, ready to fight for me. Man, she was so ridiculous and sweet, trying to act badass. When this was over, I had to think of a way to get her to stay with me. Over my staked corpse would she end up with Mayor Dickhead.

“I—um—also, I need to talk to Tempie,” Desty said. “Alone.”

“Kathan stays,” Tempie said. “Anything you have to say to me, you can say to him. I’m just going to tell him anyway.”

“No, I mean without the essence,” Desty said. “Is that possible? For you to release her for a minute so I can ask her some things?”

Tempie moved so fast that I couldn’t have gotten between her and Desty without the vamp reflexes. I had just enough time to see Tempie’s fist, then I was on the floor and Desty was helping me pick myself up again. Well, mostly picking me up.

“Temperance,” Kathan said. It was a warning.

“I told you, nerd,” Tempie said. “If you even imply something about Kathan again, I’ll hit you for real.”

“I wasn’t implying anything,” Desty snapped. “I just wanted to ask you about being his familiar and not have to wonder whether he was controlling your answers!”

“Oh, that’s great!” Tempie laughed and threw her hands up. “The girl whose man-whore boyfriend is screwing that blonde jailbait tramp doesn’t trust my completely faithful lover.”

Desty flinched.

I grabbed her hand. I wanted her to understand that I’d been going to tell her and that I didn’t screw around on her on purpose. That I loved her and that everything and everyone else could go to Hell—even me—as long as she didn’t leave me.

But when Desty looked me in the eyes, it was like seeing something beautiful choke down poison and die.

Then we heard the explosion. The concussion shook the room.

Kathan ran to the door and leaned out into the hall. Grabbed a foot soldier as he ran past.

“What the hell was that?”

“The barracks,” the foot soldier said.

Kathan’s mouth opened, stunned. You could tell he couldn’t imagine who might have the balls to attack his compound outright. I wished I could’ve laughed in his face. There was only one crazy Soldier of Heaven in Halo with a shitload of plastic explosive.

Kathan started to run after the foot soldier. Tempie took a step to follow him, but he yelled back over his shoulder, “No. Stay here.”

“But—”

“You’ll be safe here. Sit down and don’t move until I come back. Do not argue with me!”

Tempie glared at him, but she followed the orders like a good little familiar. Kathan disappeared down the hall.

“Okay. I’ll be back,” Desty told Tempie. Then she looked at me. “We have to go, now. I’m pretty sure Colt said there would be two explosions.”

Colt

I set the last charges around the barn and sprinted for the east wing of the Dark Mansion.

Somebody should’ve been on guard—that’s what I kept thinking. Then Ryder said something about the Armistice Celebration this weekend and I remembered that Tough was with Kathan and everyone thought I was dead. With no Whitneys to worry about, who would they need to watch out for?

A van with the graphic for Bub’s Diner was backed up to the east wing of the mansion and a waiter was leaned against the bumper. He was lighting up a cigarette when he saw me.

“You’re not one of our—” Then he recognized me. His eyes got big. “Son of a bitch. Colt Whitney?”

I pulled the .45 out of my jeans, trying not to feel guilty for pointing it at his chest. It seemed like I knew someone who smoked Marlboros, too.

He put up his hands and backed away, half-sliding along the side of the van. “Wait, no, wait! It’s none of my business! I—”

“Go,” I said. As a last second thought I added, “Warn anybody and you’re dead.”

The waiter took off running for the parking lot in front