Riley did not meet many celebrities or high-ranking government officials. To say that he didn’t expect to meet the Angel of Death was an understatement. Riley sat for ten minutes, or perhaps longer, with his mouth open, trying to put together his next words. “Aren’t you the guy from the bar?”
This brought a smile to Azrael’s face, and he chuckled at the simplicity of the moment. “Yes, I spoke with you at the bar. We talked twice as I tried to know you better as a person. I’m sure you can understand why I didn’t introduce myself at that time. That would have been,” he considered his next word, “disruptive.”
A fog settled on Riley’s brain and refused to allow him to think correctly, though, from his expression, he was making a masterful effort. “Why would Death want to talk to me at a bar?
