Azrael's POV
*****
He stood in front of his bathroom door, brows furrowed and eyes locked on the letter in his hand.
And the single word written on it:
Confess.
Minutes ago he'd stumbled upon Miss Benedicta's cold body. Locked away on his bathroom floor like some twisted idea of a gift.
But this was no gift. It was a threat. And he never took kindly to threats.
"Something's awfully wrong about this academy," he muttered, gaze flicking to the dead body. It was still sprawled on the bathroom floor.
The bite marks were still visible as if to taunt him.
His first instinct was to contact Amunira. If one of their brethren was out here playing tricks on him, he'd like them to stop. Even vampires weren't safe when he chose to react.
Yet when he touched his ring, ready to say the summoning words... He paused.
