The air in the courtyard felt thick with tension as I took in the scene before me. Julian Cross lay crumpled on the ground, his breathing shallow and labored. Leo knelt beside his father, his young face pale with worry and barely controlled rage. Blood stained the concrete beneath them both.
"You bastard," I said quietly, my voice carrying across the sudden silence.
Alistair Blackwood straightened, brushing imaginary dust from his expensive suit. "Such language, Mr. Hayes. And here I thought you were supposed to be civilized."
I walked slowly toward the center of the courtyard, my eyes never leaving his face. The assembled masters parted to let me pass, their expressions grim with anticipation.
"You made one mistake," I told Alistair.
"Only one? I'm disappointed. I was aiming for perfection."
"You hurt my friends."
