Now they watched through a wall of mist as a lovely woman with tawny curls and dark, soulful eyes received a prestigious award for her contribution to the discovery of cold fusion.
“I always had faith in our rogue,” Agon said with a satisfied sigh. “And now there will be more peace and less strife in the world. A happily-ever-after, if ever there was one.”
Samael gave him the side-eye. “You’ve been reading those fanciful books again, haven’t you?”
“I’ve grown quite fond of them,” Agon admitted. “Every story is a window into the beauty of the human spirit. I do believe mankind would be a lot better off if every person would slow down once in a while and embrace the power of a good book. Especially the ones that prove love conquers all.”
Samael pursed his lips and shook his head. He feigned disinterest, but Agon just smiled, knowing it was only a matter of time before he won his stoic colleague over.
When the image on the wall faded away, Samael rose from his chair and pulled his clipboard from a pocket of mist. As always with the small blond angel, it was time to get back to business. “Hmm,” he said, glancing at the next person on the list. “This should be interesting.” With a wave of his hand, a new scene unfolded on the misty wall.
Against a backdrop of silvery stars, a warrior angel hovered above a city at night. Gold-tipped black wings sprang from his broad, muscular shoulders, and across his back, inked in scrolling Latin font, was the phraseFIATJUSTITIARUATCAELUM.
“Such a fine warrior, our Finley Walsh,” Agon said with admiration. “He’s been an outstanding addition to the Department of Justice. I heard they were bestowing the highest honor on him for all the good work he’s done. Of course,” he added with a chuckle, “he might not see it that way.”
“Perhaps not at first,” Samael agreed.
Together, they watched as Finn swooped into an alley under the cover of night. He appeared to be tracking someone inside an art gallery on one of the darkened city streets.
“When is he scheduled to meet his true love?” Agon asked.
Samael glanced at his clipboard just as an earsplitting burglar alarm wailed from inside the gallery walls. “Right now.”
Suddenly, an old woman with wobbling jowls and graying hair burst through the doors, hollering that they’d just been robbed.
Agon cocked his head. “She seems a bit old for Finn, but I suppose love works in—”
“Not her,” Samael said.“Her.”He pointed to the lithe, curvy figure of a woman in black leather springing over a chain-link fence behind the gallery. She paused to adjust a stolen canvas in a satchel strapped to her back, then disappeared into the night.
“Thethief?” Agon blinked in surprise, then murmured, “Our fine, upstanding Finley Walsh and...a cat burglar.” He was both mystified and charmed.
Through the wall of mist, they watched as Finn floated silently onto a rooftop, folding his impressive wings. They snapped shut, disappearing in a shimmer of golden light. Then Finn vaulted off the roof onto a fire escape below. Without making a sound, he continued tracking the little thief, who was now climbing through her bedroom window.
“Seems an unlikely pairing,” Samael observed doubtfully.
“Won’t this be fun?” Agon gave him a hearty slap on the shoulder.
Samael startled, throwing him a look of reproach before tucking the clipboard away. “I suppose time will tell.”
“Yes.” A slow smile spread across Agon’s face. “It always does.”