Page 46 of Flame and Fury

If, you know, I knew exactly how to do that. Whatever. It’s the principle.

My Fury is viciously scrabbling at my insides, clawing at me to let loose and take this bitch out. This isn’t Jade’s first offense. I’m not the only one who has suffered because of her actions. There’s blood so thick on her hands that my Fury can taste it in the air. Jade deserves punishment. The Fury side of me wants nothing more than to be let free to take this piece of garbage down.

My father always told me to cool my temper by imagining ice coating my body from the inside out. I try to summon that frost, but it doesn’t work any longer. There are too many injustices in this world, and I can’t keep suppressing the need to right those wrongs. Back in my neighborhood, I only saw a small slice of the hardships people faced. As the Dark Hand, I could help. I could do something, even if it was small. I haven’t been able to release my Fury since that night at Mad Adams, and it isn’t enough.

“How old were you when you went to the training center? I’m going to guess really young, right?” I test my weight on the soft boards under my feet. If I throw myself at Jade, will I sink through the wood instead?

Jade glares at me but the gun never waivers. “Why the hell do you care?”

“Did anyone ever give you a hug? Or tell you that they loved you? Probably not, right?” I cringe. “Is that why you’re so unhinged?”

“Shut up. I don’t need some worthless peasant feeling pity for me.” The gun jerks in Jade’s hand as she stabs it forward to emphasize her words.

This is my opportunity to get out of the game. As much as it pains me that Jade will think she’s bested me, I’m not sure a better option will arise.

“Oh, I don’t pity you. I think you’re despicable. I was just trying to figure out why you’re so damaged.”

Jade screeches and pulls the trigger. The sound is deafening in the small space.

I could easily get out of the way, that’s how fast I am. But I don’t.

A green blur barrels into me. A hoarse “no” tears out of me when I realize that Atlas has thrown himself between me and the bullet.

Only it doesn’t quite work.

The bullet tears through Atlas’s shoulder and lodges itself in my chest, just below my clavicle. Our combined weight hits the side of the funhouse, and we crash through the decayed wood. The momentum throws us to the ground, and I choke back a scream as I fall onto a piece of exposed rebar. The metal stabs through my side, impaling me on the rusty steel.

Mother fucker. What did I say about getting tetanus here? It’s a good thing my Fury blood will heal me quickly, but godsdammit.

Atlas groans on top of me, and it’s not the sexy kind. He lifts his head, blood flowing from his shoulder wound and making a mess of both of us. Not that I needed any help. Thanks to the bullet still lodged in my upper chest and the metal post sticking out of my stomach, I’m already a bloody nightmare.

“Wren. Fuck.” Atlas rolls off me with a groan. Jade kicks her way through the opening we made in the side of the funhouse, laughing like a crazy bitch. Splinters of wood rain down around us.

It’s pouring even harder now, and I can barely see two feet in front of me. Atlas doesn’t mess around or try to talk some sense into Jade. With his good arm, he whips out the broadsword strapped to his back. Jade barely has her shoulders clearing the wood before Atlas brings the pommel of his sword down on her head. She crumbles to the ground in a boneless heap, the right side of her body scraping along the ragged edges of the wood as she goes down.

Good. I hope she gets a million slivers.

Atlas turns back to me, swaying dangerously. His sword tip drags through the mud as he stumbles forward a step. His normally golden skin has lost all its color.

“Atlas?” I rasp out. I’m not going to die, but I don’t feel great.

“Fuck, little bird,” Atlas gasps out like he’s having a hard time catching his breath.

A bullet shouldn’t be doing this to him. He’s got Zeus’s blood running through his veins. He takes another step toward me and stumbles. His hand reaches out like he wants to pull me up, but his legs give out, and he falls to his knees.

Gritting my teeth, I push up, hissing out a nearly silent scream as I drag my body off the rebar. Fuck, it hurts so much more coming out. Water drips down my face, getting into my eyes and blurring my vision. Or maybe I’m crying.

I gasp and cough as the last inch of the steel leaves my body. Collapsing onto my side, I will myself not to puke. I suck in a breath through my nose, and breathe out through my mouth, attempting to lessen the nausea. Atlas is slumped a few feet away. It takes all my strength to push myself to my hands and knees, and then I practically drag my body over to him. My chest throbs with each movement. My side feels like shit, but nothing like the bullet wound. Pain radiates from the injury and my back aches. It’s almost harder to keep my wings in than it was to pull myself off the rebar.

“Atlas. Get up.” My voice is no louder than a whisper. My hand is slick with my blood as I reach out to touch Atlas’s chest. That’s when I see a streak of black crawling down my arm. I pull away the strap of my blood-soaked tank top and look at the bullet wound. The actual point of entry is small, but that’s not my real concern. There are black veins spidering out of the wound.

“What?” I blink away the rain in my eyes, my vision growing foggy.

Except…that’s not the problem. The ground heaves and I drop to my forearms, groaning as a hot stab of pain ripples from the bullet wound. Everything is spinning.

Are we still in the funhouse?

Atlas’s eyes are closed. He’s completely passed out. My head weighs a thousand pounds. Holding it up is officially the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. My arms shake, probably from propping up the massive weight of my head. My body finally gives out, my face landing on Atlas’s chest. That would have been nice if he wasn’t built like a brick wall.

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