North of Boston was Revere. The occasional breeze parsed the sun’s rays, but one breeze sent stray dandelion seeds into Vincent’s hair. Vincent ran his fingers through the strands, messy but knot-free, and gathered the white fluff in his fingers. He shook his head once, combed his hair with his fingers again, and flicked his hand. He always wanted to look good, but today he wanted to look especially good.

Vincent’s leather dress shoes clacked against the gravel in a suspenseful tempo, much slower than the chatter of the harmonic seagulls. The occasional car drove by; Vincent let the driver move around him. Tree stumps lined the outskirts of the green grass, and beyond that were towering shrubs. At the edge of the grassy patch was a solid path shaded by trees. Vincent walked down the path, leaving the houses behind him to venture deeper into the park.

Vincent had sent Iris to look for a clean soul, and she found Jovi Russo. Jovi’s soul had little evidence of corruption and a strong morale. From Iris’ investigation, Vincent knew that Jovi Russo was a young adult, college age but not attending, worked as a waitress in the Two Suns Restaurant, and lived with her parents. Iris wasn’t sure of the worth of her soul; she was never good at gauging it. From what she had told Vincent, though, he suspected Jovi’s soul wasn’t worth much to the demon he served, but her soul wasn’t for the demon, so her soul would be worth enough for Vincent’s own sake –

Boink.

It wasn’t like Vincent to be caught off guard so easily. Vincent extinguished the surfacing irritation before it could manifest his judgment and refocused his eyes. A diamond encrusted rod glistened under the tree’s shade.

“Your fairy has been a nuisance to me,” a low, monotone voice said.

Woven in the branches above sat Ambrose, his white suit jacket tinted hues of blue and green from the sky and leaves, much unlike Vincent’s black suit and fiery red lapel. Ambrose was similar to Vincent in one way: he was a fairy, but chose to follow Father’s angels for unreasonable reasons.

“You’ve lightened up, Ambrose,” Vincent tugged Ambrose’s weapon. “It’s not like you to show yourself out in the open.”

Ambrose jerked the rod from Vincent’s hand. “Why are you after my human?” As a Father-following-fairy, angels gave tasks to Ambrose in a similar vein to demons giving tasks to Vincent. Ambrose’s task was to guard Jovi as per her true guardian angel’s request. Every human had someone like Ambrose by their every side – including Mrs. Lauren Smith-Locke – but whether or not Vincent encountered them depended on the purity of that human’s soul. Vincent usually avoided humans like these simply because the purer the soul, the more difficult the coercion of the human would be, and the fulfillment of the Soul Quota wouldn’t be worth enough.

“I’m bored of racking up souls that are already tarnished. The successes don’t feel very rewarding anymore.”

“That is the feeling Father intended.”

Vincent pushed air out of his nose. “So I’m here to try my hand at Jovi Russo’s soul. Don’t take it personally, I didn’t mean to drag you into all this.”

“Very well.”

“That’s all? You haven’t been ordered to counter my pursuit by one of your angels?”

“Not yet,” Ambrose said, adjusting his mystical weapon.

“Looks like Father is trying to make amends to win my loyalty,” Vincent chuckled. “Tell me, Ambrose. Don’t you have any will of your own?”

“I do.”

“But can’t you imagine the possibility of being your own sentient being? Feeling the crux of your passion and pursuing it? We’re like humans in that regard.”

Ambrose appeared thoughtful, but Vincent didn’t take it for uncertainty. “Again, my decision is of my own will. It needs no reason aside from intuiting it as good.”

“I see,” Vincent smiled, “then we agree to disagree on what is good. I hope you’ll familiarize yourself with my line of thought.”

Ambrose smiled a smile that was as naturally good as the golden sun. The gesture threw a wrench in Vincent’s gut; how could anyone be so happy in restraint? “Likewise,” Ambrose said.

Vincent continued his walk. Since he met with Ambrose, he knew Jovi had to be around somewhere. Where was she? He already passed the same looking shrubs and trees and met with Ambrose, yet he didn’t see the girl. But she was certainly here. Vincent slightly quickened his pace and his eyes looked straight ahead while focusing on his peripherals.

A patch of stepping stones stretched out towards an overhang of trees and created a faux path. Vincent had almost made a full round around the park without seeing the girl he was after; he didn’t think another round was going to bring him to her. He left the sunshine and followed the stones. Light dappled through the trees and the moist soil smelled odd, oddly good. Bushes poked their leafy branches out and left just enough room for Vincent to comfortably travel. The bird chirps became muffled through the greenery and the breeze came to a still, until Vincent heard a clear exhale of relief.

A petite girl crouched with her arms sitting on her knees in front of a colorful flower bush. Strands of her wavy chestnut colored hair blanketed her back and shoulders. She wore a loosely fitted woven shirt tucked into her pink skirt of a modest length. Vincent’s chest pattered with the same feeling he had gotten when he signed his first soul-binding contract, the exact thrill he was gunning for. Her radiant glow exalted an energy on par with that of the angel fairies, and he hadn’t even seen her eyes yet. Comforting, inviting, bright: an energy that Vincent never willfully subjected himself to. Vincent searched for her eyes so he could evaluate her soul, but there was no doubt in his mind. This girl was Jovi Russo. And Vincent would be the one to trap her.