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And, eventually, Fey had started to talk. All the fear, all the pain, all the sudden emotions she’d had felt when that Blade’s mark had opened that connection between her and her new sisters came pouring out of her. Alice hadn’t judged her for running away, hadn’t judged her for the way she felt. She only wanted to understand, and when she did, she finally talked.
Alice told Fey stories. Stories about her and Lilith and Joy and their times together. Stupid, inconsequential stories, but they gave Fey an insight into her new sisters. Gave her something to love in each of them. Helped her understand why they were so willing to love her, even if they barely knew her. Helped her realize how much she wanted to love them back.
Fey had come back here to her old room in Solare a few more times during her first year as a Queen’s Blade, and each time she knew Alice would come and find her and help her heal through whatever she was going through.
But now Alice was gone.
Now Willow was gone, too.
Fey sat down heavily on her bed, ignoring the cloud of dust that rose up around her, and put her head in her hands. She needed to get some sleep. There were only a few hours now until dawn, and she’d need rest for whatever came next.
But first, she needed a plan.
She briefly considered sneaking back into their quarters to find her sisters, but she immediately scrapped that idea. Her mask had been lost, most likely during her triste with Alastair in the hallway, and there was no way she could get by the Guards without it, especially tonight. Dameon would have to sound the alarm at some point, would have to tell the Queen and the Blades that Willow had been killed. The palace would be teeming with activity, and there was no way she could get to the second most heavily guarded wing of the Palace tonight.
She could rest, then head to The Last Drop once the sun set tomorrow. Now that she was in Solare there would be no way to sneak out during daylight, when the training yards below would be full of soldiers. Alastair could find her a place to lay low while activity in the palace died down, and together maybe they could find a way to get a message to her sisters.
Or… she could go back to the palace right now, find Dameon and slit his fucking throat. Just like he’d done to Willow. She could strap him to a chair and make him swallow plastic explosives, and Joy or Lilith could use a little fire to ignite it…
Fey snarled in anger and frustration, flinging herself down onto the pillow, releasing another cloud of dust around her. That’s what she wanted to do, what the anger and rage inside her demanded she do. She wanted to peel pieces off him until he told her everything she wanted to know, until he admitted to all of it.
Fey rolled on her side, pausing when something crinkled under her. There was something under her pillowcase.
Propping herself up on her elbow, Fey reached underneath her pillow and pulled out a piece of paper, frowning at it. It was a handwritten note. A single line, hastily written. An address.
1601 Eternity Rd.
Fey stared at it.
The address meant nothing to her, though she recognized it was somewhere on the manufacturing side of town, near the shipping yards.
But the address wasn’t what made her stare. The address wasn’t what made her heart sink, made her catch her breath.
It was written in Alice’s handwriting.
Chapter 41
It had taken her longer to leave Solare and the area surrounding the palace unnoticed than she had expected, and by the time Fey had made her way to the shipping district, there was a distinct brightening to the sky that heralded the coming dawn.
Shit. She was running out of time. Without her mask, she was incredibly vulnerable out here, in the open. Under the cover of night, she could move relatively unseen, using her skills to blend into the shadows was second nature to her after so many years. But once the sun came up, she would be an obvious target, with her bright red hair and fighting leathers. Too obvious, too vulnerable.
Fey wasn’t sure what compelled her to come here, what compelled her to leave the relative safety of her old, abandoned room to be here—out in the open, with no plan, no idea of what she might be walking into. If Alice had left that note as a clue to whatever had led to her death, it was months old at this point. Had she met someone here, at this address, before she was killed? Was it an accusation? Alice pointing the finger at her murderer from beyond the grave?
Fey had no idea. And even knowing she should go back, even knowing she should find a way to get to her sisters—the ones still alive, still in need of her protection—she couldn’t stop herself from coming here. She was compelled to see where Alice was leading her.
At first glance 1601 Eternity Road looked like every other factory in the shipping district. This whole neighborhood was nothing but shipping containers and factories, and Fey triple checked the address before she was even convinced that she’d found the right building.
There were no guards outside, no security cameras, and while it appeared empty, there were enough signs of occupation to convince Fey it wasn’t an abandoned building. The windows were relatively clean, the main entrance marred with muddy boot prints from workers arriving for their shifts.
Down to every detail Fey could find, it appeared to be nothing but an ordinary factory, no different from every other building on this block.
Why would Alice send her here? Fey didn’t doubt for a second that the note was meant for her to find. There was no reason for anyone else to be in that room, no other person she could have left it for. And it had been too deliberately placed to have been left by accident.
Fey circled the building one final time. The sky was becoming brighter by the second, and it would be dawn soon. And that meant it wouldn’t be much longer at all before the factories around her filled with Fallen workers. She was out of time.
Aside from the front door the employees obviously used to enter and exit, there was one other way in: a nondescript locked door at the rear of the building. An emergency exit, more likely than not. A simple unlocking sigil was all it took for Fey to open it.
This is a bad idea, Fey told herself, her hand on the door handle. Coming here was a bad idea, and going in would be a very, very bad idea. She was potentially trapping herself in a building that would likely be overrun with Fallen within the next two hours.
