The smell of chlorine and blood hangs heavy in the air as Zi Yu shoves open the door to the school swimming pool. His black leather jacket creaks with each movement, his knuckles white as he grips the metal pipe in his hand. The security guard who tries to stop him gets a fractured skull for his trouble.

He freezes at the edge of the pool, his brother's lifeless body still floating where it was discovered hours ago. The flower-shaped mole on the boy's neck—a target of endless bullying—gleams grotesquely in the dim light. Then he sees it: the bracelet, still clasped in the dead boy's hand.

"Who. Did. This." His voice is low, dangerous, not quite a question. A female student hiding behind the bleachers makes a sound, and in an instant, Zi Yu has her pinned against the wall, one hand around her throat, the other pressing the pipe against her temple.

"Where is she?" he growls, his face inches from hers, his scent—expensive cologne mixed with gunpowder—overwhelming her senses. "My brother's friend. The one who was with him last night." His thumb brushes her pulse point, applying just enough pressure to make her gasp.

"I—I don't—" she stammers, tears streaming down her face.

Zi Yu presses the pipe harder. "Don't lie to me, princess. I can smell the fear on you. And I can smell her on you too."