Chapter 94: _New Target
Azrael’s POV
*****
9:00 AM, Female Dormitory building
The last thing he expected when heading to Celeste’s suite this morning was the scent of a familiar witch in it. Not just that—upon stepping into the room, he picked up the scent of two wolves as well.
Silas and Luther.
Neither had stayed long. But they had been here long enough to make him notice.
’What in the High one’s name...’ he thought to himself, head tilting as he locked his eyes on his target. Atlas. "What are you doing here?"
The latter blinked, dazed and confused for a moment. "I... You... You shouldn’t..." Then he pressed his lips in a thin line, golden eyes flickering with a stubborn light. "I should be asking YOU that question, Vaelmont."
How audacious.
"Hmph," Azrael wasn’t impressed, shutting the door behind him. "I came here to see Celeste. I thought she’d be here seeing how all participants in the trial were given today off."
Atlas’s brows furrowed. "Convenient."
"Merely the truth," the vampire moved a foot forward. "Now—why don’t you tell me what you’re doing here? Close to Celeste’s bed if I might add."
If his complexion was any lighter, he was certain he’d see the witch’s cheeks redden.
However, the guilt—though brief—in his eyes was enough.
"That’s none of your business." Atlas’s jaw tightened, his fists balling. "I was just leaving anyway. So if you’d—"
A slight lift of his chin was all Azrael needed to telekinetically hold him in place. Another minuscule movement forced the witch to his knees, shadows crawling across the walls behind him.
The witch trembled, managing to raise his head enough to stare at Azrael’s ice-cold face.
"That won’t do at all, Atlas," he shook his head, fingers rising to take off his glasses. If the need arises, he won’t mind compelling him. "You should know how tumultuous these times are. With Miss Benedicta’s death and how dangerously connected it is to our mate."
Atlas’s lips unsealed. "H–How are you doing this...?"
All Azrael gave him was a smirk. He held the edge of his sunglasses, ready to take them off—
"Wait!" Atlas yelled, much to his surprise.
That’s odd. He wasn’t supposed to know what happened when he took off his glasses.
Unless...
"Hmm." Azrael squatted, squinting at his prey. "You know a lot more than you reveal. Don’t you, Stormwood?"
The latter squirmed, features contorting with clear struggle. "I know you’re a dangerous man, Azrael. The mere fact you’re able to overpower me without effort is enough."
At this juncture, Azrael flicked his wrist, releasing him from the telekinetic restraint. "I take it this means we’ve come to an understanding."
Atlas reluctantly got on his feet, snapping his fingers to clear the invisible dust off his knees. With a harrumph, he spoke without haste. "My original purpose for coming here was to clear the suite. Just in case there was someone unlawfully spying on her."
Intrigue hit Azrael. "Spying? What made you come to such a conclusion?"
Silence settled between them for a few seconds too long.
Until Atlas showed him his right hand, fingers unfurled. Revealing a piece of white paper that instantly brought pause to Azrael.
He hadn’t seen this paper—but he clearly remembered the other two that came before it.
"See the word written on it?" Atlas asked as Azrael took it off his hand. "Control. First confess. Then choose. Now... This."
His eyes narrowed on the bold word written in blood. He stayed quiet for several seconds, even turning away from the witch, as if that would bring clarity.
It didn’t.
Rather he was now more confused and frustrated than he was last night.
"This is the same as the two other times." Atlas sighed. "No traces of magic or forced entry. Not even a dead body in sight this time."
Nothing was making sense.
For a moment, he’d suspected the High one herself of being behind these letters. And Miss Benedicta’s death. Maybe as a way of testing him.
But as mysterious as she was—this was just too much. The High one he’s served for millennia won’t trouble herself with such trivial affairs.
If she could remind him telepathically to stay focused on his mission why go through all these riddles now?
So with that out of the way... He was back at square one. Or was he?
"Dean Thorne," Azrael spun back to Atlas, keeping the paper between his index and middle fingers. "After the Vein beast attack last night, have you noticed anything... Off?"
Atlas’ forehead creased. With a hesitant breath, he answered. "Not necessarily. Except—he did replace Luther with Silas in the mission of watching Celeste."
A couple of seconds passed before the words clicked. "He what?"
"Indeed." Atlas nodded. "Luther came to me and mentioned it. He only got sent a text last night."
That was the pinnacle of suspicion.
"Does Celeste know of this change yet?" Azrael questioned even though he had a feeling what the answer would be.
He was right.
"I’m not certain but it’s unlikely," Atlas shook his head. "She’s currently with Silas so I assume he’d inform her himself."
Something about imagining Silas and Celeste together made a knot tighten in Azrael’s throat. He held back a snort, handing the paper to Atlas.
"Very well." Was all he said, shadows already coiling around him. "Do tell Celeste what happened whenever you can. I’m taking my leave."
Alas, the moment he was about to disappear, "So you’re not going to address how you held me down? Or why I said I know you’re dangerous?"
Those questions made Azrael freeze.
He’d be lying if he said he didn’t notice the way Atlas stared at him during most of the Blood Trials. Even with the distance separating them on the stands.
If the witch was suspicious of something—he could mention it himself. If not—
"None of my concern." He uttered plainly. "As for how I held you down, I apologise if your ego is bruised. I hope you can channel that energy into uncovering the mystery before us."
With that said, the shadows swallowed him whole, transporting him back to his suite.
Looks like he’d be doing his own spying soon.
And the target?
Dean Thorne.
