Page 66 of Flame and Fury

Atlas steps inside the house and flips on the lights. When I cross the threshold, my jaw drops. I almost step back outside to make sure we haven’t been transported to a nicer place.Nico is hot on my heels, so I have no option but to move forward.

The inside of the house is…charming. There’s no other word for it. Directly in front of the doorway is a set of steps that lead upstairs. To the right is a living room that flows straight into a kitchen. The living room has a gray couch and several complementary armchairs covered in patterned fabric. There’s a large stone fireplace that obviously won’t be getting any use since it’s far too hot for that.

The kitchen has white cabinets and a small table that seats four. It’s not big, but I doubt we’ll be having dinner parties here.

“What is this place?” Lark asks.

Atlas drops the bags and faces us. “This is one of the Underground’s safe houses. Let’s get cleaned up and then we can figure out what’s next.”

I bristle at the authority in his voice, wanting to take charge, even though I don’t know where we are or what we’re going to do. But I haven’t showered in…I don’t know how long, so I don’t snap at him. I’m covered in dried blood and ointment from the fucking brand. Somehow, even though the sky poured down on us, I still feel covered in layers of sweat.

“There are two bathrooms upstairs and one down here. There are spare clothes in the bedroom closets.” Atlas picks up the bags and heads toward the kitchen. “Wren, you’re with me. I trust you three can find the bathrooms upstairs?”

Lark turns toward me, sucking her lips between her teeth like she’s trying to hold back a smile. “Someone’s got his bossy pants on.”

“I heard that, Lark. Go get showered.” Atlas isn’t even looking in our direction. He’s unpacking the bags, which are stuffed with food. There’s fresh fruit, bread, cheese, pasta, canned vegetables and soup. Things that will need to be eaten right away but also supplies for a longer stay. Is Atlas thinking we’re going to hunker down here and wait things out?

“I can hear your thoughts from here, little bird. Go shower.”

Nico, Estella, and Lark head upstairs, leaving me and Atlas alone on the main floor. I’m still hovering near the front door, hating how out of my element I feel. This is Atlas’s territory, and he’s allowing us to be in it. I don’t want to be grateful, not of him or the Underground, but dammit, I am. The likelihood that I would have made it out of Chicago with the clerics hunting me down is slim. Especially not with Lark and Estella in tow. I hadn’t exactly figured out that part of my plan. I was more focused on the escaping Nathaniel’s house part.

Atlas finally looks up at me, and the stark fear shining through his eyes stuns me. He stops moving, resting his hands on the table. His shoulders sag as if the world is resting on his back and it’s too heavy to keep pretending it isn’t a crushing weight.

“I thought…” His head drops, his breath rushing out in a tired exhale.

I move toward him, coming to a stop on the other side of the small wooden table. It’s scarred with countless gouges and marked with rings where someone left wet glasses. It’s a table that has seen many people seated at it.

It feels like Atlas was about to reveal a secret, but he couldn’t get it to pass his lips. I offer up my own confession. “I was afraid for you.”

Atlas lifts his head, his eyes locking on the stupid bandages on my chest before lifting to my face. “Why?”

The question feels loaded. Like he’s not just asking me why I was scared but, why me? Why him? Why are we the ones in this fucked-up situation? Or maybe I’m reading into things way too much. I probably just need to eat something and sleep.

“Why was I scared?” I swallow, asking myself why I went down this road. Too late now. In for a penny… “After the auction, I realized the same thing must have happened to you. I didn’t know who bought you, but I was going to come find you.” I spit out the words, disgusted by the clerics and the elites who do this shit.

Atlas’s jaw ticks as he grinds his teeth. “Ares bought me.”

* * *

Atlas didn’t letme bombard him with all the questions that sprung to mind after dropping that bomb. Instead, he took me down a hall off the kitchen that led to a bedroom with a connected bathroom. I’d been instructed to shower off my stink and left to stand in stunned silence as the door slammed closed.

Did Ares brand Atlas like Nathaniel did to me? Ares seemed pissed off when he saw what Nathaniel had done. Was it just that he considered me his property because I was his champion? Did Ares tell Atlas where I was? If so, did he do it to taunt him or to help?

If Atlas could have taken five, okay, fine, twenty minutes, to explain everything, I wouldn’t be running a list of increasingly ridiculous scenarios through my head.

The bedroom has a dark geometric pattern on the carpet. The kind that’s durable and resistant to most stains. The bed has a blue and green quilt folded at the foot, and a thin blanket tucked in neatly. It’s nothing fancy, but everything smells clean. There’s a chest of drawers to the right of the bed. I pull open the drawers, finding tank tops, t-shirts, pants, and shorts of various sizes folded up inside. I grab a black tank top and a pair of shorts that won’t give me heat stroke. Although, it’s just now registering that it’s cool and comfortable inside the house. This place has air conditioning. Okay, maybe we'll hide out here until the end of the world.

The bathroom is stocked with toothbrushes still in their packaging, shampoo, conditioner, the works. Clean towels are stacked up on shelves over the toilet. Who the hell is in charge of the Underground’s hospitality? Do they have a whole safe house team that makes sure everything is up to snuff for sudden drop-ins?

I’m convinced I’ll be treated to a cold shower, since there are two others taking one upstairs. It’s a pleasant surprise when the water heats quickly. I shuck my clothing, kicking off my boots and peeling off the bandages that are more for show at this point than anything. It’s tempting to linger under the warm water, but Atlas still needs to shower, and I’m starving. Dinner at Nathaniel’s wasn’t exactly appetizing.

The middle of the mirror is just starting to fog when I finally get out. I swipe my hand across the surface to look at myself. My dark hair falls halfway down my back. It’s hard to see the blue in my eyes without leaning in close. People always think they're dark brown, but the color is more like the night sky. Raising up on the tips of my toes, I lean in and inspect the bullet and stab wounds from the last challenge. All that’s left of both are pink scars that will be gone in another day or two. I scowl when I look over Nathaniel’s brand.

Fucking piece of garbage.

The skin is still raised and there is a very clear triangle scarred on my chest. Eventually, this will go away too, but it pisses me off that I’ll have to look at it one second longer.

I throw on my borrowed clothes, wrapping my hair in a towel while I brush my teeth with a viciousness they don’t deserve. I tackle the snarls in my hair next. Once I’m cleaned up as much as possible, I throw open the door, only to find Atlas on the other side. For once, I catch him off guard and he startles.

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