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Evan twisted the ring on his finger, faint uncertainty rising inside him. “It’s not like anything I’ve ever come across. But I guess there’s a first for everything.”

There was also a last.

“That’s not very reassuring,” Aaron returned the backpack to Evan, eyes narrowed in seriousness. “I’ll take the guys and smoke up all the corners. It shouldn’t take long with the extra hands. You better not wander about by yourself.”

As usual, he saw right through Evan. Regardless, Evan dipped his chin.

Aaron’s eyebrows furrowed. “Don’t move.”

“I won’t.”

But of course, he moved.

As soon as the men were out of sight, Evan took out a flashlight and a bundle of Noctis, making his way to the first floor. There was no way in hell he was taking Aaron with him when he was unsure how dangerous the situation could get upstairs.

As he climbed the stairs, blue light flared in his irises, his core of spiritual energy thrumming.

Every exorcist had a distinct method of exorcism. Some trapped spirits in a mirror cast with a spell then shattered the mirror to exorcise them. Some used the sacred river water to burn the spirits out of existence. Evan’s method wasn’t as dramatic or cruel.

It was, in fact, very simple.

Touch.

All he had to do was expose his core of spiritual energy, then make physical contact with the spirit or cursed object to exorcise it. A method of exorcism unique to the Blackwood bloodline.

Most exorcists avoided direct physical contact with spirits. One or two might be manageable, but depending on the spirit's age and possible resentment it might carry, direct contact could take a toll on the exorcist. Or worse, leave them wide open to possession.

In Evan’s case, however, considering the contact didn’t overwhelm him to death, he could recuperate his lost energy through a widely used method: sleep.

He was sixteen when he first learned his touch could exorcise spirits. A truly bittersweet moment.

Bitter—because the first spirit he’d accidentally exorcised had been a classmate. A sweet boy he used to nod at in the school hallway before Evan dropped out. A kid whose name he couldn't remember.

And when Evan reached out to him in the streets one day, not realizing he was a spirit, the kid’s soul flickered out of existence at his touch.

Sweet—because amidst the guilt, Evan realized something else. He had a gift. One he thought he'd failed to inherit from the Blackwoods.

He found another gig to stack alongside his three part-time jobs. Another way to survive.

A gig. That was all it was supposed to be.

As a high school drop-out who functioned daily on three hours of sleep and carried the burden of his father’s debt, while also providing for his sister’s education, Evan welcomed any quick-cash jobs he could find. But before he could help it, he was neck-deep in books about exorcism and ghosts.

After his mother’s death, it was Rhea who’d raised Evan more than his father. She was his mother's mentor, or at least that's what Evan believed for some reason.

And with her guidance, Evan learned how to control his core of spiritual energy. The spirits and shadows he’d always pretended not to see were all he sought after that. He taught himself how to cast protection barriers—a Blackwood trait—and use his spiritual energy to cleanse and exorcise. All the while, Rhea buzzed in his ear about how he was not even half as good as his mother because Evan was prone to laziness.

He couldn’t disagree. Mercy Blackwood was one of the best exorcists in the entire Blackwood bloodline.

Ten years and hundreds of exorcisms later, Evan became who they now referred to as the “infamous exorcist of Emberlyn.” Infamous because some believed helping people should be a deed rewarded with blessings and smiles, while Evan preferred cash or checks.

If he could simply exorcise spirits with a touch, charging people was selfish, they said.

Never mind the numerous times he’d been accidentally possessed during exorcisms. Forget the things he’d done to himself under the influence of those spirits. That could all be healed with “blessings and smiles” right?

Bull-fucking-shit. If not for his mother’s ring, Crimson Eye, Evan would not have made it alive this far without getting possessed and jumping off a cliff. In that order.

Hence, for all the troubles he went through, charging people a few bucks was hardly preposterous in Evan’s dictionary.