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Lilith smacked her arm, snarling. “Stop fucking moving. If I mess up any of the lines, they won’t work right.”

“Some Shifters can smell us,” Joy explained. “It took the Blades a while to work that one out, and a few of us supposedly died in the meantime. We need to stay anonymous, need to stay hidden. But if a Shifter can smell you in your uniform, they can track you later when you’re just walking through the city. When you’re not ready. Better safe than sorry.”

Willow nodded, earning her another smack from Lilith.

“Almost done,” Lilith said, dipping her finger a final time, and returning to her task. She burned a final line, curving an arch through the sigil for perception, and immediately Willow’s eyes widened as her nostrils flared.

“Oh my Goddess,” she whispered in amazement. “I can smell the bacon in the icebox. And I have never been so hungry in all of my life.”

Lilith laughed, using a cloth to wipe the ink from her hand.

“Welcome to the Blades, sister,” she said, smiling. “Now you look just like a proper assassin.”

Chapter 14

The setting sun cast a golden hue over the gardens as the final remnants of daylight bled from the sky. Fey loved this time, the moments between day and night, and this was her favorite place to spend it.

Shortly after the War of the Fallen had ended and the Eternal City was being built, the first Queen had commissioned this park. In the center of everything, far from the palace proper, far from the twin rivers that flanked the city. It was a place for all the citizens of the city to enjoy regardless of Faction or status.

At the center of the park sat the Dual-Faced Goddess Statue.

Fey sat on the bench before it, staring up at her Goddess, letting peace settle through her.

The statue was a massive thing, nearly twenty feet tall, and made of solid metal. Split down the center, half depicted a woman in gold, her face upturned to the sky, hand resting gently on the swell of her stomach. Her face was serene, soft, and feminine. This was the Mother Goddess, the giver of life. The Goddess most denizens of the realm prayed to.

The statue had another face, in silver. The same features, the same feminine lines, but no serenity would be found here. No forgiveness. Her eyes were narrowed in fury, her face a mix of rage and beauty. Her hand didn’t rest on the swell of her curves but instead clutched a sword before her, sharp and dangerous.

This was the Goddess Fey worshiped. A fighter. A destroyer. This was vengeance given physical form.

And yet—here, in this one place, they existed as one. A single entity, with two heads, but one body. The duality of the Goddess herself. Creator and destroyer.

The garden darkened as the sun dipped further below the horizon. Fey sighed.

It would be stupid to go back there. It was reckless, and it was stupid. But right now, it didn’t feel like they had any other options, and stupid was better than nothing.

After their night at the club, Fey had dug up everything she could about the owner, going through the Crown’s extensive incidence lists and making a dossier of everything she could find.

Alastair Salvatore—that was the name of the Vamp that had her purring in the palm of his hand that night. The Vamp she was having trouble not thinking of when her fingers slipped between her legs at night. He’d purchased the property just over ten years ago as an abandoned factory building and quickly turned it into one of the city’s hottest nightclubs. In the last few years, the neighborhood around it had been transformed from a slum into an up-and-coming fixture of the city—the nightclub bringing new life to the area and quickly becoming a favorite with the students from the university just a few blocks away.

There had been a few incidents at the club, but fewer than Fey had expected. A Wolf Shifter he’d hired had been arrested and convicted of assault just a few months ago, and a note in the file claimed it was Alastair himself who had brought the man in for justice. And there had been a small fire just after the club’s opening, though no one had been hurt. But other than that? The Crown had surprisingly little criminal activity on record about The Last Drop. Or on Alastair himself, for that matter.

A shadow fell on the bench beside her, and Fey glanced up.

“Hey,” Lilith said, looking down at her. Fey squinted against the light of the setting sun, and Lilith grinned. She held a strawberry ice cream cone in one hand, and it dripped down the side.

“Hey,” Fey answered.

Lilith didn’t make a sound as she slipped into the seat beside Fey, curling her legs beneath her as she sat, and licked some of the melted cream from her cone. Around them, couples walked through the park, stopping to admire the art. A few Shifter children played nearby, some of them halfway in their animal forms, still learning the basics of their transformation.

It felt… weird, sitting with her sister in public like this. Most of their time was spent in their quarters, and the rest—well… when they were out together in public like this, they were on a mission. Masked.

“What are you doing here?” Fey asked, curiously.

“I had a date,” Lilith answered, taking a bite of her ice cream, pink bits of strawberry clinging to her lips. “Figured I would grab a little treat on the way back to the palace.”

Fey snorted. “Must not have been a very good date if you’re done before sundown.”

“Oh, I disagree,” Lilith purred, smiling devilishly. “I think it was a very, very good date.”