Page 10 of Flame and Fury

I stare down my nose, and Billy shrinks back. My tone is even, but there’s no room for discussion. “When the crowd surged, we got caught up in the stampede.”

Preston snorts, “Together?”

Out of everyone at the table, Preston is the only one who doesn’t look like he’s been in a fight. His clothing is still pristine. Even Jade looks a mess. Drake’s shirt is ripped and there’s blood on the collar. Greer’s hair is a tangled mess and ash smudges her cheeks. Nico’s normally styled pompadour is wind-blown and disheveled. Jasper’s long black hair has fallen out of the knot it was in earlier and he’s sporting a black eye.

“Not together. I found Wren a few blocks from the shrine.”

The expression on my face is not one that invites questions. Rather than push it, Preston sinks back in his chair with a huff. The side of my face burns with the sensation of being watched, but when I angle my head to look at Nathaniel, I’m not the object of his interest. His mean little eyes are dancing all over Wren’s body. My muscles tense and I crack my fingers, starting with my pointer finger and ending with my pinkie. It takes work to focus on my breathing so I don’t lose it and slam my fist into that smug fuck’s face.

Wren still hasn’t moved, avoiding looking at the prick, but Nathaniel doesn't look away. I've been in his presence many times. To him, I'm just another one of Zeus's bastards. One that will ultimately serve his will just like the rest of the children. I'll die as a champion in the Olympus Games, or I'll become Zeus’s minion, carrying out whatever tasks get assigned to me. All while I’m expected to thank my father for the scraps of his attention.

I'm this close to ripping a handful of Nathaniel's puffy hair out and slamming his face down on the table. The image of his crushed nose and blood puddling on the table in front of me is so satisfying I barely keep from making it a reality.

Wren's fingers flex and I instinctively know she's struggling with the same impulses. The image of her kicking his legs out from under him and pummeling his face until it's a bloody pulp is making my dick hard.

“All right. Now that everyone’s here, let's get back to the compound,” Billy barks out.

"About fucking time," Preston snaps. The chairs scrape against the floor as the champions push back from around the table.

"Someone's cranky. Is it time for a nap?" Greer simpers.

Preston throws himself over the table, the fucking chains on his stupid get-up scratching the lacquer. Zeus will not be happy about that.

"Bitch. I'm going to slit your throat."

Greer spins, grabbing a small statue off a decorative table in the corner and chucks it at Preston. It hits him square in the forehead with a fleshy crack. He falls back, and his head smacks the table with a solid thunk.

"Stop messing around," Billy snarls, leaving Preston to get off the table by himself. No one else offers him a hand. He slides to his feet with a wobble, a goose egg already forming on his forehead.

Before he stomps out of the room, Billy bows his head at Nathaniel. The rest of us file out after him, Wren in front of me while I bring up the rear. She’s almost through the door when Nathaniel calls out.

“Miss Torres, a moment of your time.” Nathaniel lifts his hand, gesturing for her to come to him with one finger. It's the same hand that wears a clunky ring with an onyx jewel on his pinkie. It looks like a class ring, but I've never gotten close enough to see if it's from a specific institution. It’s hard to imagine Nathaniel in a classroom setting.

His words sound polite, but it's not a request. It’s a demand.

My footsteps falter, but I recover before anyone notices my hesitation. I don't want to leave Wren behind with this asshole. She can hold her own, but that doesn't make this any easier. Without another option, I step into the hallway and leave Wren alone with a monster that can't be slayed with a sword.

CHAPTER7

WREN

All the hairs on the back of my neck rise, and my Fury rustles in my chest, warning of danger. I don’t like Nathaniel. He may have a lot of power, and a serious complex that leads him to rule with cruel sadism over the people of Zeus and Hera's territory, but ultimately, he’s only human. I shouldn’t be so wary of him, but whenever he’s close, I’m filled with discomfort. He is a horrible person, so that could be why. Although my gut tells me that he’s even worse than I know him to be.

Nathaniel doesn’t turn to watch Atlas leave the room. His gaze doesn’t drift away from me at all. I don’t like that one bit. I want to call Atlas back, to tell him to stay with me. Not because I can’t handle a prick like Nathaniel, but because I don’t want to be alone with him for any reason. My fingers itch to trace the small snake charm around my neck. It’s never failed me before. My grandmother gave it to my mom when she was just a child. It was meant to hide the Fury side of her. When my mom died, the necklace became mine and I’ve never taken it off since. I don’t know what kind of magic is needed to conceal someone’s true nature, only that it’s the work of the gods. Maybe someday my grandma will tell me how it was made.

I clench my hand into a fist to avoid giving in to the nervous tick. I would love to tell Nathaniel to shove his demands up his ass, but the momentary pleasure wouldn’t be worth it. I pull a play from Kat’s book and clasp my hands in front of me, looking demure and unthreatening. At least that’s how I hope it’s coming across.

“Did you need something?” It’s an effort to keep my voice polite. I refuse to call him sir, and I don’t think he would appreciate me using his first name.

Nathaniel's hands are behind his back. He meanders toward me, eyes roving over my body as though he’s sizing me up. He’s inspecting me like someone would examine a car they are about to buy and he’s not impressed.

“You’ve been quite a success in the game so far.

He hasn’t asked me anything, so I don’t reply. Nathaniel is in his early sixties, but he doesn’t look his age. His poofy hair and small eyes humanize him, but there’s a malice that inflames my Fury. Maybe part of it comes from knowing what he’s done in this territory and it’s too hard to separate those deeds from the person in front of me. Or maybe he really is rotten all the way down to his toes.

“I’ve heard Hades is quite taken with you.” He goes on as though I’ve replied to his comment. “It’s interesting how you were able to come across a stone from the Underworld, a seemingly impossible task.”

“Is it?” I know I should keep my mouth shut, but it’s so hard.

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