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.