Page 72 of Flame and Fury

“Yes, I am with your champion.” Atlas tips his head back and holds the phone out in front of him like he can’t handle listening any longer. He blows out a long breath and brings the phone back to his ear.

“To tell you the truth, I don’t want to see your face. I don’t want anything to do with you, but Wren seems to think you might be able to help her. So, I am doing my part to get in touch with you.”

I bite my bottom lip to keep from laughing. Holy shit. Where is the calm, cold-as-ice Atlas I know and love?

Whoa. No. Not love. Just know and appreciate. Or enjoy. Sure.

“Fine. We’ll see you then.” Atlas hangs up the phone without saying goodbye. He looks like he’s going to chuck the thing against the wall. I hop up from my spot on the floor and grab hold of his wrist, pulling his arm down between us and extracting the phone from his death grip.

“What did he say?”

“He agreed to meet with us.” Atlas’s scowl says he’s thrilled about the idea.

“Okay then. Here we go.”

CHAPTER38

WREN

The limo is back in the driveway within the hour. I’m sure the driver is thrilled to be bumping back along the gravel roads once again. We agree to leave Nico, Estella, and Lark back at the safe house after another round of disagreements. Atlas gives them the number of someone from the Underground to get in touch with if they decide they want to leave the safe house or if they run low on supplies.

Once I found out we were leaving, I changed out of my shorts and threw on a pair of pants. They’re similar to the kinds we've been wearing during the challenges. I guess cargo pants are the utilitarian uniform of rebels and champions alike.

It’s hard to walk away from the comfortable bed. A good night’s sleep in a safe place sounds incredible, but we don’t have the luxury of time.

“Where are we headed?” I ask Atlas as soon as we’re settled in the car.

“Ares is sending someone to meet us about an hour from here. They’ll be transporting us to one of his homes.”Atlas doesn’t sound thrilled and the rigid way he’s sitting highlights his discomfort with this plan. I get that he doesn’t trust Ares, but…I do. Mostly.

We head farther into the wilderness. It’s dark out, and we don’t pass through any towns. It’s just a blur of murky forest in all directions. I must fall asleep at some point because I wake up with a jerk as the car comes to a stop. My head is in Atlas’s lap and his fingers are resting on my hair like he’s been stroking it while I slept.

“We’re here,” Atlas murmurs quietly, as though he doesn’t want to jar my senses by speaking too loudly.

“I think I drooled on your thigh.” My voice is croaky.

“I’m happy to be your pillow any time you want.”

The driver opens the car door, throwing cold water onto the moment. I sit up straight and Atlas steps out of the car. He looks around before he holds a hand out to help me out. I remember when he did the same thing for Ayla Long after that first challenge. It feels like a million years ago but also like it just happened last night. Back then, I saw him as the charmer with a golden smile. I know now that isn’t who he is. That’s a persona he puts on. It’s nothing like the real man.

I drop my fingers into his outstretched hand, and he pulls me from the car. The driver has taken us to a rundown rest stop. Ours is the only vehicle in the parking lot. A decrepit building with a dangling sign hanging off the front is to the left. Someone has spray painted over the letters changingbathroomtoassroom.

“Are we out here to role play a horror flick? That’s cool if you’re into that, but you're blond. That automatically makes you the victim.”

Atlas gapes down at me and then a rumble of laughter builds in his chest and releases out into the night. Gods, that sound is so incredible. Screw it. I’ll be the runner. As long as he catches me. Atlas grabs a handful of my braid and tugs my head back. He kisses me hard and quick, but it’s enough to leave me limp in his arms.

“If you’re not going to chase each other through the forest and bone, then we need to go. I have better things to do.”

Atlas and I both whip our heads around and find a man leaning against a cement post with chipped yellow paint. He’s just outside the beams of the headlights, making him an undefined shadow. A barely audible growl comes from Atlas’s throat when the man steps into the light.

It’s Hermes. His build is the lithe musculature of a runner, which makes sense since he can travel anywhere at the speed of light. He’s probably most known for his head full of golden curls that make all the ladies swoon. I’ve seen him grace the front covers of dozens of magazines.

Is this who Ares sent to meet us? I eye the god warily, wondering again if we’ve made a huge mistake.

“Stow your negative thoughts, little champion. I’m not going to murder you or anything.” Hermes cackles when I don’t keep my shock off my face. Please tell me he can’t read thoughts.

“You need lessons in subterfuge. My brother should be able to help you out. He’s got that stone-cold facade perfected. In fact, his face will crack if he shows any emotion.”

Brother? I push on the space between my eyes, a headache getting ready to unleash. There is too much going on right now. I know Zeus is Hermes’s father, but until he said something, I didn’t make the connection. That means Hermes and Atlas are brothers. Gods, the way Zeus sticks his dick in anything with a pulse, Atlas probably has dozens of siblings.

---