Had she suspected him? His helmet and visor had covered most of his face during their encounter in the catacombs. Only his lips and eyes had been visible, but was that enough to recognize him? He hadn’t spoken to her, so she wouldn’t know his voice.
The longer she stared at him, the more he squirmed. It was inexplicable, but he felt exposed under her arresting hazel-eyed gaze. He felt as if she could see into the very depths of his soul.
Ash parted his dry lips. “I will never hurt you,” he vowed, surprising himself.
He’d surprised her, too. Kara’s eyes flared for the briefest of seconds before darkening.
“You stay long enough to heal and not a second more,” she said in a stern voice that didn’t succeed in masking its natural honey and butter tone.
She called the two men who still waited nearby. One of them blindfolded Ash before helping him up. He was too big for them to carry, but with his assistance, they dragged him behind the others.
They had only gone a few hundred meters before the quality of the air changed. He didn’t need them to remove the blindfold to know he’d been taken down beneath the surface—into tunnels that should not exist. According to every map he owned, this part of the fringe didn’t connect to the subterranean warren of the catacombs.
This location is impossible, he thought, reaching out with one hand to touch the damp stone wall. If someone had built this, he would have known.
And yet, here I am. Ash was underground now, deeper than he’d ever been before.
How close to Hell are we?
Just then, a blow landed to the front of his head, dulling out his final thought.
10
The knock to the head wasn’t hard enough to render Ash unconscious, but it was strong enough to leave him dazed.
“Damn it, Roget,” Kara said. “Watch where you’re going or you’re going to brain him before we get back to base.”
“Perhaps I could just remove the blindfold,” Ash suggested in a pained voice, guessing he’d been walked into a stone overhang.
Technically, he could move well enough with one using just his hearing, but so long as the humans were guiding him, that wasn’t an option. He went where they walked him—even if it meant straight into a wall.
Be more helpless, he reminded himself.
“No,” Sij snapped from somewhere behind him. “You take that off before we get where we’re going, and I’ll run you through with my blade. Can’t let everyone and their mother know where our top-secret base is…”
The last was a near-indecipherable mutter. Sij was clearly not on board with Kara’s decision to let Ash stay.
She wasn’t the only one. By the time they took off his blindfold, he could feel the collective gaze of a dozen suspicious people like tiny daggers all over his skin. Rather than try to converse, he decided to tug open his wound a bit so it wouldn’t close.
Confident he was safe in Kara’s care, he closed his eyes, feigning sleep so convincingly he drifted off.
When he woke, his wound was being treated by none other than Dr. Madeleine Brès. Kara was standing next to her, overseeing his treatment.
Ash grimaced with genuine discomfort as the doctor poked and prodded his wound, remarking on the speed of his recovery with an air of wonder.
“It may not even leave a scar,” she added with a bright smile. Ash smiled back and thanked her with a murmur, grateful she did not seem to recognize him despite having met twice in as many years.
He’d never been around her or any other human without the helmet that obscured his face. Only Marcus was familiar with his features. But his voice was distinctive. All angels had a little extra resonance, a vibration that tweaked human nerves, even in their daily speech.
But Madeleine didn’t even blink when he repeated his thanks more loudly. Nevertheless, he was relieved when she packed up her medical bag and moved on.
He hoped Kara would stay and converse with him, but as soon the doctor was finished with him, Kara walked away, too, called to duty by her many followers.
The flaw in his plan was exposed in the days after. Kara came and went, delegating tasks and leading groups of scavengers in the fringe or hunting parties down here in the catacombs. He wanted nothing more than to join in and help provide for the others, but whenever he tried, he was sternly told to sit and heal.
“The sooner you do, the sooner you can get out of here,” Kara said, rubbing salt in the wound.
Forced passivity made Ash’s skin itch. He was chafing under the restraints of his disguise, but he made the best of a bad situation by pumping those who stayed behind for information.
He learned a lot by proxy. Theo and several others, the newest arrivals, were happy to brag about their leader when she wasn’t around.
It was obvious Kara knew the wasteland and how to survive in it. But how she’d acquired this knowledge was a matter of some debate.
According to one of her acolytes, she had been born on the fringe to a Firehorse mother, who taught her everything she needed to know to survive. Another one said it was actually her father who had been the Firehorse. The pair had been forced to flee from the city when he’d been struck down. By the time the man died a few years later, Kara was an expert hunter and scavenger, more than capable of surviving on her own.
No two people had the same story about her. The only common thread was Sij—the scrappy little woman who hated him. It wasn’t until after Kara teamed up with her that they founded their refugee community. Everyone here was related to a Firehose. They were always very clear on this point. Their little band was composed of relatives of the afflicted. None of them confessed to being cursed, nor did they point fingers at anyone else. Their solidarity on this point was unassailable.
A few days into his subterfuge, Kara left to lead a scavenging party with a reluctant Sij in tow. As soon as they left, Ash was on his feet, pitching in to help the group wherever a hand was needed.
“Can I help clean that up?” he asked when Dr. Brès came in one day. She was holding her daughter, who had a long scrape along one arm.
“I don’t want you exerting yourself,” Madeleine scolded, rushing toward him when he stood up.
He waved away her concern, patting the wound with a slap to indicate how well he was. “I’m fine now,” Ash assured her.
When he didn’t flinch, Madeleine threw him a suspicious glance. But her daughter was crying so she dismissed him, opting to care for her child instead.
Theo approved of his eagerness, assuming Ash was auditioning for a spot in their band. “We could use your help clearing passages,” he said, signaling Ash to follow him. “If you want to stay, you have to convince Kara and Sij you’re worth feeding.”
They reached the blocked tunnel a few minutes later, and Ash got to work. The tunnel was cleared in no time.
“I can’t believe we’re done,” Theo said a bit later as Ash tossed the last boulder out of the way. “Thanks so much. It would have taken twice as long without your help.”
“Not a problem.” It felt good to use his strength again after days of forced inactivity.
“Do you think you can help me with something else?”
Ash grinned with genuine satisfaction. “Of course,” he said, putting a hand on Theo’s back as they walked back to meet the others.
That had been the beginning. When Kara returned to the catacomb hideout a few days later, she found Ash nearly indispensable. He’d ingratiated himself far more deeply than she would have suspected. And she was not happy.
But things could get worse. Much worse. Which was exactly what happened when the ceiling above them collapsed.
11
Ash tried to delay the inevitable confrontation with Kara off for as long as he could. He’d thrown himself into the hard work of surviving in the wasteland, joining whatever group he could to avoid being alone with Kara or Sij.
This morning when Theo asked for a hand, Ash rushed him through first meal so they could be out of Kara’s way bef
ore the band started their day.
“Where is this tunnel we need to clear?” He hopped from one stone to another in a partially flooded cavern.
His internal chronometer told him they’d been traveling for almost an hour.
Theo leapt with the dexterity of youth, landing on a loose rock and balancing automatically. A ripple disturbed the oily surface where he landed.
“It’s still some ways out. We’re in the eastern branch of the catacombs. The tunnel we want to clear caved in a long time ago. It leads to Masséna. We hunt there.”
“Oh.” The Masséna plains were where Bastille grew most of its grain.
Though they weren’t exactly plentiful, wild game could be found in those wheat and maize fields. It wasn’t enough to sustain the city, but Marcus had started an initiative to have some of the meat served at the local schools. The rest was traded, but the area was off limits to the general population. Ash hadn’t wanted Bastille to exhaust what little game there was.
It’s a good thing I stopped the council when they wanted to make poaching an illegal act punishable by death.
Not that any council guard could have gotten the drop on one of Kara’s people. From what he’d seen, they were too well trained for that.
They arrived at the blockage shortly after and set to work. Ash was still marveling over the industry of the band when he realized Theo had started speaking again.
“If we clear the tunnel, we won’t have to cross overland or through the old metro and train tunnels,” Theo was saying. Ash’s head snapped up. “Kara has us avoid those whenever we can.”
Finally, an opening. He picked up a heavy boulder, taking advantage of Theo’s turned back to heave it out of the way with one arm. “Why don’t you cross overland?” he asked, lifting another boulder almost half his weight.
“Why do you want to know?” Kara replied from somewhere behind him.
Ash spun, dropping the stone on his foot. It would have crushed every bone in it if he’d been human. Suppressing a wince, Ash dragged his foot back before Kara noticed and wondered why he wasn’t screaming in agony.
The woman was breathtaking in a faded brown tank and torn cargo pants.
His mind flashed back to the scenes of the court of Louis IV with the women in all their finery. Kara didn’t have a silk gown. She wasn’t wearing makeup or any of the fine jewels he’d seen females adorn themselves with. And yet, none of those women could hold a candle to her.
Damn it, this is the last thing I need, he thought as she picked her way through the debris from the last cave-in. Why were these thoughts plaguing him after so many years? A millennium on earth without a problem like this, and now all he could think about was how soft her lips looked.
Why her? Kara was literally the last person in the world he should fixate on.
“Theo, can you go help Sij in the west tunnels?” she asked, rounding a pile of stones and fragments of ancient powdery plaster.
“But we already cleared those…” Theo trailed off, noting the dark glance she gave him. He touched the leather thong around his neck and nodded. “Unless there’s more to do now, and there always is down here. Excuse me.”
The youth nodded at the two of them, backing away with a you-have-this gesture at him Kara couldn’t see behind her back.
Kara turned, her thick sooty lashes flickering as Theo disappeared around the bend. Once he was gone, she dropped the civil mien.
“I see that you’re feeling better. Well, enough to lift at least four stone.”
“I heal quickly,” he supplied, crossing his arms.
Kara narrowed her eyes, reaching over unexpectedly to snag the hem of his shirt. “Very fast, I see. There isn’t even a scar.”
He smiled haplessly. “Dr. Brès is a very skilled physician.”
His tone was as blasé as he could make it, but Kara didn’t appear to buy his. She backed away a few feet, studying him like a bug under a microscope.
“Why are you still here?” Her voice was flat and unwelcoming.
He opened his hands, holding them low at his sides. “As I told you and the others before, I’m looking for my sister.”
“You already know she’s not here.”
“Not yet, but—”
Kara held up a hand. “Save it. I’ve heard the story about you buying our goodwill on the off chance she turns up. Not that she ever will, because we both know she doesn’t exist.”
“Of course she exists,” he scoffed. “Why would I be here otherwise?”
The hazel gaze didn’t waver. “That’s a very good question.”
They stared at each other. Ash searched the right words to allay her suspicions, but the only ones that came were the truth. The impulse to tell her everything was riding him hard.
“Why don’t I ever know what to say to you?” Maybe it was because he always got distracted. Even now, he could barely focus on their conversation. Instead, he was lost studying the texture of her skin and the graceful curve of her neck.
She’s not wearing anything around it, he thought, tilting his head to one side.
The survivors wore a leather thong with something at the end. Theo had been fiddling with his just before he left. Madeleine wore one as well. The outline of what it held—a small cylinder—was visible just under their clothes.
All of them wear it. Even Sij and the children. But Kara’s neck was bare.
Ash gestured to his neck. “Why aren’t you wearing one those thongs with the cylinder at the end? Everyone else has one but you. Is it a charm or something?”
Kara’s lips firmed, but she didn’t say anything. The only answer was the snap of a holster opening. Ash eyed the blade that had suddenly appeared in her hand from a hidden sheath strapped to her back.
Either she had just lost all patience with him or he’d just touched a nerve.
She held up the knife, backing away slowly.
Her stance reminded him of the time he tangled with a trained Mossad security officer in Cairo at the end of the twentieth century. That woman had been a highly rated assassin. But there was no death in Kara’s aura. How she’d come by such ease with a blade was mystifying.
“Consider this the official end of your stay here. Go back to whatever council member you’re working for, and don’t come back,” she said, spitting out the last words like bullets. “You can tell them whatever you want. It won’t matter. We’ll be long gone before you can bring the council guards here.”
“I don’t work for the council.” They work for me. Or at least, they’re supposed to.
“Right.” Skepticism and contempt were in every line of her body, but she didn’t lower her guard. The knife remained raised, ready to strike.
“It’s true,” he insisted, holding up his hands. His covert operation was officially in the crapper. “I wish there was something I could do or say to convince you.”
She shifted her weight. “Well, there isn’t. You’ve overstayed your welcome. Go back to Bastille. Leave the fringe to us. We’re not hurting anyone.”
“I know that. All I want to do is help.” He infused his words with all the truth in his heart.
It almost worked. She hesitated, checking her step as she began to walk away. But then she shook her head, slipping her knife back in its holster. “Sij and Theo will be waiting in the main chamber. They’ll show you the way back to Bastille. Make sure you’re gone before I get back.”
“Wait, please!” He needed answers. What were those things around their necks? Was it spelled amulets or tiny vials of some kind of potion? Was that how they were evading the curse?
Kara didn’t stop. She turned a blind corner, disappearing from his sight. By the time he rounded the bend, she was gone.
“Kara?”
Swearing a blue streak, he pounded after her, calling her name. This time, he tracked her easily. She wasn’t moving fast. At first, he assumed she wasn’t trying to get away, but after a few minutes, another explanation presented itself—in the form of a chunk o
f stone hitting him on the head.
“Kara! This passage is not sound,” he called out, careful to keep his tone muted. He didn’t want to shout in case the vibrations of his preternatural voice caused a cave-in.
A quick scan confirmed his worst suspicions. They were descending deeper under the ground in what was barely a tunnel. The ground moved under his feet. If it wasn’t stable, then neither were the walls or ceiling. He went through one crumbling passage after another, tracking both Kara’s movement and scent.
A glimpse of golden caramel skin up ahead told him he’d finally caught up with her. Shadowy movement indicated she whirled around.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” she spat. “Get the hell out of here. This area is not safe.”
“Then what are you doing here?” He walked closer, picking his way through the labyrinthine space. The walls were close. Ceilings were too low for him to stand without crouching, but he kept going until he reached Kara. Her scowl was blacker than an archangel’s on a bender.
The urge to envelop her in his arms and carry her out of here was overwhelming.
Do it anyway. Even if she resists. In the distance, a falling chunk of rotted plaster or concrete fell with a wet thud as if it landed in a puddle or mud. Unable to stop himself, he reached out for her, but she backpedaled, her back hitting one of the grey pebbled supporting walls.
They both looked up as a sickening crack sounded over their heads.
Kara’s eyes flamed gold with accusation before the ceiling began to fall. A large chunk struck him in the back of the neck. More was raining down, coming down on them.
Ash unfurled his wings with enough force to make them burst through the back of his thin T-shirt. He flew toward her. In the space of one heartbeat, he reached her.
He took Kara in his arms, wrapping his wings around her just as he registered the expression of abject horror in her eyes.
12
Forsaken_Cursed Angel Watchtower 12 Page 7
