Azael
Azael is frowning and I feel him press my hand, something is not right.
-Hey- I say catching his face. Right away I notice how he relaxes the muscles.- What happens?
-I do not like this. Everything is going too well. he says looking around. I prefer not to, as they are not very pleasant views.
-And what's wrong?
-That we're talking about Harrison Tucson. The same one who murdered my mother. The same one who tried to kill his daughter. My father's rival, whom he also killed. The one that appears to have survived a fire. I just don't believe we caught him off guard.
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