It was him.
42
BARRETT
The stench of the damned tunnels under the city filled my nose—a combination of waste, rot, and gods knew what else. I hated it, hated how there was no other way in or out if you wanted to reach The Underworld. The tunnels were intricate, a maze meant to leave anyone—human or immortal—lost and confused. Atlas had ensured that anyone who found their way here without invitation wound up as fodder to his pets that wandered these tunnels, searching for lost souls.
I’d never seen the creatures personally, had only heard horror stories of the monsters he’d smuggled across The Veil, made of pure terror—their kind only found in the Shadow Steppes, where the very soil was leeched of life from the battles wrought by the gods and titans so many millennia ago.
They didn’t belong in this realm but in all honesty...did any of us?
Aiden stalked in front of me, his hands tucked into the pockets of his ripped black jacket as he watched the darkness around us. He had been working to infiltrate their ranks over the last twenty years as well, working in other ways to monitor the organization. The Underworld had beensizeable during Lucia’s time, and their numbers had only grown since The Fall of Kingdoms. The losses we’d endured during the battle had proven too great to maintain morale for many of those who once served with us. There was no telling just how many had defected in the end, how many secretly worked with Atlas while maintaining their service to The Order.
“Any new entertainment down here?” I asked casually, a question I often asked to gauge the state of The Underworld without raising suspicion if anyone was listening.
“Should’ve seen the human females they brought in last night,” he said with a huffed laugh, and I could hear the smug grin curving his lips. “Put on a pretty nice show before offering themselves to us.”
Disgust filled my stomach, and I couldn’t tell if he actually enjoyed treating the humans the way he did when he joined in to keep his cover intact. He was fucked up, had his own demons haunting him. Despite that, though, he always pulled through. We’d managed to covertly extract some humans who didn’t wish to serve Atlas and his underlings—humans who had been coerced and left trapped in their clutches. trafficked until they were broken or eventually wound-up dead and discarded.
We came to a stop at a large, circular steel door cutting off the tunnel, where a single massive male stood. He wasn’t quite as tall as I was, but the fucker was built like a godsdamned tank, his arms crossed over his chest decked out in tattoos.
“Zeus wants his blowup sex swan back,” Aiden said flatly.
I resisted the urge to laugh at the phrase used to gain access to The Underworld. It changed every few months, and I wondered if Zeus had done something recently to piss Atlas off.
The brute eyed Aiden before sliding his gaze to me. His narrowed eyes crinkled the black tattoos inking the skin along the side of his face. Shit looked incomplete, the linework sloppy and obviously done in a back alley somewhere with shaky hands. I almost felt sorry for the guy.
Almost.
I nodded my chin to him. “Got something to say, coloring book?”
He rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath, but he stepped aside. The steel door groaned as it rolled, the ground rumbling beneath our feet as it cleared the way for our passage.
I patted him on the shoulder as I passed. “You should try smiling more. I bet you’re pretty when you smile. Might even make those shitty tattoos look better.”
He bared his teeth, fangs elongating, and jerked his shoulder from my touch.
I twisted around as I continued forward, flashing him a haughty grin. “See? You’re not so ugly after all. I bet your mom might even kiss you now. Maybe if you just stay on your best behavior, she’ll get you some crayons to complete your look.”
I barely made it through the entrance before the steel door slammed shut in my face. “Poor sap can’t take a joke.”
Aiden huffed a laugh without looking over his shoulder. “He can’t stand you.”
“But he’s such a ray of sunshine. I thought we were connecting.”
Aiden shook his head. “Don’t look to me to bail you out when you get jumped.”
“I’d love to see him try,” I said, stepping past him and through the bustling underground city. Countless immortals lined the intersecting market streets filled with string lights, neon signs, and old stolen streetlamps. The pathways were illuminated in various shades of greens, oranges, and blues, lights powered by a combination of hardwiring into the local power grid and smuggled energy crystals from the Godsrealm. Music pumped through the streets, though it was nothing like the music the humans listened to topside. This was rough, as violent as the occupants of the underground city—most likely something from the Godsrealm, where they had achieved more advanced lifestyles and different tastes in well...everything.
From the corner of my eye, I caught sight of the countless thugs grouped up alongside our path, some playing a game of Aphrodite’s Throw—tossing dice onto a small table. They weren’t normal dice; they were made of bone, the only acceptable dice to play the game. A few females, both immortal and human, leaned against an open doorway, and I caught sight of one in the alley next to the pleasure house. Her back was pressed against the brick wall, her legs wrapped around the waist of a male whose pants sagged at his hips as he pounded into her, her head falling back as she moaned.
Shouts dragged my attention away as I continued through the streets, to an open gap between the buildings. I spotted a male and female were fighting, bloodied fists swinging through the air as they dodged each other with gritty determination. Onlookers shouted from the sidelines, laying bets and arguing amongst themselves; they swore in unison as the male landed a crippling hit to the female’s jaw before she crashed to the dirty ground, only to be dragged out for the next fighter to step in.
Every person here, be them immortal or human, operated under Atlas’ command, participating in any and all activity. Whether illegal by human standards or immortal, it didn’t matter. Smuggling, trafficking, theft, blackmail, drugs—this was the command center for all of it, the veritable belly of the beast.
“Atlas is in his usual place,” Aiden said, pulling up his hood before nodding to the building at the far end of the main street.
I nodded as he split off, stopping at a nearby stall to look at some nasty-looking knives and daggers. By the look of their inscriptions, they were enchanted. They were likely another commodity they’d smuggled across the veil, for the only blades on this side with that level of magic were owned by The Order.
