Rook would never forget what he saw ten years ago, when he walked into that narrow alley with a gun in his hand. A boy lay on the ground, covered in blood. His black hair fanned out beneath his head. The dim streetlamp made his face hard to see, but Rook thought the boy's eyes had suddenly flickered when he saw the figure at the mouth of the alley, glowing with an uncanny brightness in the dark.
That look sent a chill rising from deep within Rook. Unable to stop himself, he pulled the trigger. The gunshots, “Bang! Bang!” echoed through the alley. His arm shook uncontrollably, and the bullets flew past the boy's body, spraying blood into the air.
“Stop, Rook,” the person beside him said coldly.
Rook came to his senses and turned to look at the brown-haired boy beside him. To his astonishment, that face, usually lit by a radiant smile, was cold as ice. Those eyes, usually so gentle and angelic, burned with the fires of hell. “Eric...”
