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T he lifespan of an exorcist depended on his ability to coexist with beings that did not belong in this world, and to eradicate them when necessary.

Ever since he was little, Evan Blackwood saw things others couldn’t. Crawling shadows. Haunting figures. Sometimes they whispered to him. Words. Phrases. Warnings.

Incomprehensive language, yet somehow it made sense to him.

Only to him.

And when they weren’t talking, they were watching him. Always watching. From the corners of the rooms, hidden in the darkness outside his windows, crawling across the ceilings at night.

Evan thought they were ghosts. Evil.

But one day, after unwillingly being dragged to the church by his friend, Evan saw the same shadows there, at the feet of the crucifix. Darkness wrapped around who was said to be the ultimate bearer of eternal light. And he realized…maybe not all of them were evil.

Maybe.

But people never believed him when he told them that.

First, they took his words for naivety, then a joke, and eventually shut him up with a flat "It’s not funny anymore."

Honestly, if a strange kid came up to you and started speaking of shadow figures and monsters of the dark, wouldn’t anyone be creeped out? At least a little?

So, at one point, he stopped telling them.

“Are you listening to me?” Aaron’s voice nagged from the phone speaker as Evan took a final drag from his last cigarette, eyes lingering on the cloudy sky outside his bedroom window. If he stared hard enough, he could make out faint silhouettes of figures floating about.

The world was full of those shadows. They were everywhere.

“Hm.”

“Hey, don’t hm me,” Aaron groaned, then let out a tired sigh. “I’m telling you, this case is the jackpot you’re always whining about not hitting.”

Indeed. And what a fucking terrific hit it is .

Evan crushed the bud into the overflowing ashtray with more force than necessary. “Even if that jackpot might cost me my life.”

“Dude, stop being dramatic.”

A sigh left Evan’s lips as he slumped against the edge of his bed, faint smoke from the dying cigarette wafting around him.

Even after working together for years, Aaron couldn’t understand the dangers surrounding Evan’s profession. It was more naivety than ignorance. Ever since Evan knew him, Aaron had been the same: overachiever, over-bright, and overconfident in Evan’s capabilities.

“Come on, this is the first client you’ve got in three weeks,” Aaron’s voice tightened like he was clenching his lips. “You need the money.”

He wasn’t wrong about that.

Evan didn’t just need the money; he was desperate for it. Celie’s tuition for the upcoming semester was due next month, which was only a week away. The current month’s loan installment was looming, too. And Evan hadn’t had a proper meal in five days. Unless a pack of cigarettes and a carton of chocolate milk counted as one.

What about the half-eaten apple inside the freezer that looks like something not even worms would go for?

His head rolled to the side, catching his reflection in the wardrobe mirror. Dark strands of greasy hair stuck to his forehead, brown eyes that closely resembled a dead fish taking its last breaths on a fisherman’s hook.

Was it just him, or had his cheeks sunken into his skull?

But even though desperation clung to Evan’s shoulders, he refused to undertake a case that could possibly become his last.

There was a book in the back of Evan’s mind, its pages always fluttering; The Doctrine of Blackwood Exorcists. It was a rulebook passed down from his maternal ancestors, consisting of one hundred and three rules of conduct.

The Doctrine of Blackwood Exorcists. Rule 1: “Should the evil’s power exceed yours, never face it alone, or death shall be your only companion.”

In simpler terms: if it feels like a spirit you can’t handle, you probably can’t.

No exception.

The Greene couple had been on Evan’s tail for a month now, begging him to cleanse their ancestral property. But contradicting their statement of “just a little trouble at an old building," the Greene Mansion turned out to be a hotspot of malicious energies, overflowing with vicious, resentful spirits.

Evan had paid a secret visit to the mansion when the Grenes had first approached him.

It was a centuries-old construction that had sinister energy emanating from every wall and square inch of ground around it. The air around the property was so dense with malice that not even morning mist descended on the patch of land. It was strong enough to make Evan—a reckless, seasoned exorcist prone to taking risks—never want to visit that wretched place again.

Sure, the Greenes were rich, and if he came out alive—which was unlikely—they would probably hit him with a “name your price” tagline.

But the richer the family, the deeper and nastier were the secrets buried behind all that glittery wealth.

Even as an exorcist, Evan wasn’t invincible.

“I’m not doing it. It’s too dangerous,” Evan said, puncturing a straw into a carton of chocolate milk before taking a sip. “Find me another case.”

Aaron sighed from the other end. “Alright. I’ll look into what I can find and call you back.”

Looks like he gave up. “Fine—”

“But please, at least think it over one last time before turning them down. You might not find such an opportunity swinging your way again.”

Nope, he didn’t give up .

Biting at the edge of the straw, Evan reached for his phone.

“Bye, Aaron.”

As soon as he hung up, a cold wind whooshed past Evan’s side, spiking goosebumps under his oversized t-shirt. Blinking, he shifted his gaze over his shoulder, and a pair of golden yellow eyes amidst a mass of black fur stared back at him.

Evan let out a snort.

“Misty, you startled me,” he picked up the furry ball of a cat and snuggled his face into her soft black coat, inhaling her soothing, familiar scent. “You have a tendency to show up whenever Daddy needs a good snuggle, don’t you?”

Misty purred, kneading his thighs with her soft paws, staring up at him with dilated pupils. Then slowly blinked.

Evan’s lips twitched. “Daddy loves you too, Misty.”

He had never quite figured out how he could communicate better with a cat than any human being he’d ever come across. But Misty was surely the preferable one out of the two options.

Whoever wanted to willingly socialize with creatures of the same species?

Just as Evan was about to bury his face in Misty’s belly, the doorbell went off. As if sensing who was at the door, Misty leaped off his lap, disappearing under the bed.

Evan’s eyebrows furrowed.

That couldn’t be a good sign.

Dragging himself out of the bedroom, Evan reached for the front door and swung it open—

A splayed palm rushed towards him. So fast he couldn’t dodge.

As that ridiculously huge and calloused palm smacked Evan’s face, he stumbled back into the nearest wall, a high-pitched ringing going off in his ear.

“Ignoring our calls now, little shit?!” Bruce, the main enforcer of Phantom Finance Corporation, spat in Evan’s direction, his eyes blazing with the need to break something.

Me. That’s what he wants to break.

A few of his men gathered behind Bruce, one hiking a baseball bat over his shoulder, another flashing Evan an amused grin.

Evan had seen that look on their faces a lot over the years, but every time it somehow spiked more disgust in him. He’d seen cat litter more sightly than those faces.

Pressing his thumb against his molars, Evan blew out a breath after confirming none of them had loosened. “Can we talk like adults?”

“We’ve been way too lenient on you,” Bruce spoke around the toothpick clenched between his teeth. “Even adults need disciplining sometimes.”

Another punch to his stomach, and Evan hunched over with a grunt, a metallic taste flooding his taste buds.

Bruce and his men barged into the house and, with a strong shove to his chest, sent Evan tumbling back into the living room. If he’d had anything other than a carton of chocolate milk in his stomach, he’d probably be sturdier.

Evan fell on his ass, sucking in a sharp breath before meeting their hostile gazes.

“This month’s due. Where is it?” Bruce asked.

Wiping blood from his lips, Evan stretched out his legs in front of him, leaning back on his palms.

One thing he’d learned pretty young was that if he didn’t try to fight back or made himself smaller, like sitting while they towered over him, they would beat him up way less. Maybe it gave them a fake sense of dominion over people like Evan, who avoided conflict as much as he could.

That just made him realize how pathetic both the parties were.

Evan cleared his throat. “I don’t have enough to cover this month’s due.”

“Excuses,” the man with the baseball bat groaned, clenching his fingers around the handle.

“Can you blame the fella? Poor thing isn’t built for conning.”

Evan sniffed lazily, fingers twitching to get a hold of a cigarette.

They’d always believed Evan went around scamming people in the name of exorcisms. A trick to make a quick buck. Evan had once tried to correct them and ended up with a black eye. His first ever ugly black eye. So, now he just let them assume whatever they wanted about him.

They were like mad dogs chasing after cars. If you stopped and tried to reason with them, all you’d get was a bite to your ass.

Crouching to Evan’s level, Bruce grabbed the front of his t-shirt and yanked him forward. The scent of alcohol and garlic wafted straight into Evan’s face as Bruce barked, “You think I buy that shit? Last time you paid three months' dues in advance. And now you’re suddenly broke?”

Right. Because spirits were lining up outside Evan’s door to be exorcised whenever he needed money.

The idiots couldn’t understand that he only got paid after every exorcism. Last time was a blast with lots of anxious parties with loaded pockets and haunted houses.

This month, too, was a blast. Only, the one exploding was Evan.

When Evan remained unresponsive, Bruce’s jaws clenched. Then a slow grin parted his lips—all yellow, chipped teeth. He clicked his tongue before plucking the toothpick from his mouth.

“Little shits like you should be taught a lesson every now and then, or you forget your damn place,” Evan barely flinched when Bruce dragged the spiky tip of the toothpick along his arms, digging it into his fair skin hard enough to leave an angry red line in its wake. “Wonder how many holes I can make in you this time.”

Last time it had been seven holes. A pair on each of his palms, one under his left toe, and two on the inside of his thighs. It was an old game Bruce liked to play. Every time he jammed his saliva-coated toothpick into Evan’s skin, the blood it drew felt dirty. Alien. Like he was bleeding for someone else’s sins.

The first time they’d done that, Evan was hardly twenty. He’d scrubbed himself in the shower for an hour straight, hard enough to leave red marks on his skin after. They’d been a bitter reminder of the assault for a few days.

Years later, Evan was used to it now, yet the disgust just heightened after every time.

Without warning, Bruce raised the toothpick to Evan’s face. The needlepoint hovered an inch from his eyeball. “Maybe if I stick it in your eye, I can poke your asleep brain awake.”

Evan’s heart dropped as the men cackled.

Not his eyes. Anything but that. Without his eyes, he won’t be able to see spirits, or Celie growing up, or Misty’s golden eyes, or study someone’s energy. Just as Evan considered sticking out his tongue for Bruce to pierce instead, a voice made all the men stiffen.

“Leave him be.”

Evan’s eyebrows twitched. Of course he was here too.

Bruce quickly straightened, and the men parted robotically to make way for their boss standing at the threshold of the house. The owner of Phantom Finance Corporation, Tiago Diaz.

A pair of cold eyes settled on Evan before snapping to the rest. “Out.”

The men scurried to follow his order, and Evan almost rolled his eyes.

Pathetic little pricks. It was amusing how meek they turned in front of their boss, tails tucked between bucked knees, while the said boss ignored their existence.

Those cold eyes crinkled with a smile as they came back to Evan. “Good morning, Evan.”

What exactly was “good” about this morning?

Evan straightened to his feet, still feeling the burn on his busted lips and aching abdomen as Tiago strolled inside, straightening the sleeve of his custom-tailored suit that hugged his tall, buff frame. A strand of ginger hair fell onto his forehead, the rest of it slicked back perfectly. Everything about him screamed “untouchable."

Fucking awesome. Evan had no intention of touching him.

With an unbreachable calm, Tiago took hold of Evan’s chin, inspecting the cut on his lower lip while Evan tried not to yank his face away. The calluses on Tiago’s fingertips scratched the base of Evan’s chin, something he found borderline repulsive.

Or maybe it was just Tiago as a whole that was repulsive.

Beneath that unruffled facade and inquisitive eyes lurked a perverse wolf, waiting to pounce the moment Evan lowered his guard. As he neared, Evan held his breath, the scent of expensive cologne assaulting his sensitive nose.

“Why do you provoke my men when you know you can’t handle the consequences?” Tiago murmured with an undercurrent of amusement.

Of course he found it funny. For years, Evan had been a source of continuous entertainment to him.

The only thing Evan’s father had left behind before disappearing one day was a ridiculous amount of debt with more digits than Evan could count. Throughout his teenage years, Evan struggled to pay back the debt, working three—sometimes four—part-time jobs.

Yet, all Tiago had ever bestowed upon him was his sincere interest to get into Evan’s pants.

“I don’t have enough for this month’s due,” Evan said, shifting his face away from Tiago’s touch as innocently as he could. “There haven’t been many clients.”

Tiago’s gaze wandered around the living room. “You still in that shaman business?”

Evan quietly gritted his teeth. “Next month, I will pay—”

“How is Celie doing?”

Upon the mention of his sister, Evan’s eyelids fluttered up.

“What?”

Tiago, in all his expensive-suited glory, took a seat on the rundown wooden chair. “I heard she’s working hard in school. First in her class, excelling in extracurriculars and all. Kind of reminds me of you when we first met. Hard-working and resilient.”

What he meant was stubborn and inflexible.

Evan’s thumbnail scraped the inside of his fingers, grinding down the urge to ask him more. Resisting that urge. Fuck, did he have to dig information about his own sister from another man?

Ever since her middle school years, Celie had started drifting away from Evan, building a wall between them that Evan couldn’t by any means penetrate. Perhaps it was because of their father disappearing on them, or the communication lag that comes with a ten-year age gap between siblings. So, he tried to be there for her. But for every step Evan took forward, Celie took two back.

Eventually, Evan stopped trying to force her to talk to him.

But Tiago, with the excuse of being their father’s old friend , managed to get Celie to mingle with him. As much as Evan hated his presence anywhere near her, he couldn’t help but notice the way Celie looked at Tiago, like she could see their father in him. That sparkle in her eyes, Evan couldn’t bring himself to take that away from her.

“You’re trying too hard,” Tiago stood up, walking back to Evan with a smile full of feigned kindness. “How many years has it been, hm? You wasted your prime years working yourself to the bone, trying to make a good life for your sister, paying off your father’s debt,” his hand came up to rest on Evan’s shoulder. “What about you ? Isn’t it time you lived for yourself?”

With all that debt I have to pay to you?

Suppressing the need to scoff, Evan arched an eyebrow in fake curiosity. “How do I do that?”

Tiago smiled that sly smile, dropping his face close to Evan’s. “Come to me.”

“I don’t think I possess any skills suitable to work for your corporation.”

His thing was exorcism, not extortion.

Tiago laughed, throwing his head back and simultaneously moving closer to Evan. He slid an arm around Evan’s waist, pulling him close. “You don’t know it, Evan, but you do. You are the skill I need from you. And it works—” Tiago took Evan’s hand and brought it down to his crotch, pushing the bulge into Evan’s palm, “—like magic.”

This limp-dick asshole .

With a tight smile, Evan forced his hand away from Tiago’s pencil cock, stepping back until there was enough distance between them that he could breathe anything other than his expensive, insufferable cologne.

Evan hated people who were desperate for sex, especially because the chances of them actually being good at said sex were close to non-existent. If Tiago was a tad bit less obvious about it, maybe Evan would have slept with him, just for the sake of getting him out of his hair.

Even though Evan had been chaste for a few years now after Rhea had warned him about the effects casual hookups had on his spiritual energy.

On the brighter side, desperate people like Tiago were also prone to manipulation by the source of their desperation. Which, in this case, was Evan.

Clenching his fist, Evan blinked at the floor, staring hard until moisture gathered at the corners of his eyes. That was his best attempt since he couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually cried.

“Next month,” Evan spoke softly, then peeked at Tiago with red-rimmed eyes. “I’ll bring you this and the next month’s dues together. Give me some time.”

Tiago unblinkingly stared at Evan. It was hard to tell whether he bought Evan’s act or not. But it didn’t matter because a few seconds later, Tiago let out a sigh. “Make sure you’re on time. My men aren’t as patient as me.”

Delivering that piece of unusable advice, he spun on his heels and marched out. As soon as Tiago was out of the house, Evan slammed the door shut and slumped against it before sliding down to the floor. He raked his fingers through his hair, tugging at the roots.

Collecting two months' dues wouldn’t be easy. If he depended on what little he earned from small cases, Evan would need at least twenty or more this month, which would be impossible to get and to execute.

Agreeing to exorcise so many spirits in such a short time would be futile if he ended up dead halfway through. There was only so much spiritual energy he could burn before his body reached its limit. But if Evan failed to pay the next installment on time, Bruce might also kill him. He’d bet that would be more brutal than dying at the hands of any spirits. He doubted Tiago would stop Bruce this time since Evan had turned him down again today.

In short, death was inevitable either way. Unless he agreed to Tiago’s...

Evan groaned at the ceiling, hoping his ancestors were listening. “Was I born to become a whore?”

As if in response, his phone went off in his bedroom, followed by Misty’s melodic meowing. His shoulders slumped.

I hope that’s a no.

Misty meowed louder.

Dragging himself back to his bedroom, Evan splayed down on the bed. Misty climbed onto his chest, purring as he picked up his phone. “Hell—”

“So, did you think about it?”

Hell indeed. “Aaron, it’s been fifteen minutes, for fuck’s sake.”

“What?” Aaron griped. “Do I really have to try and convince you so hard when it’s all for your benefit?”

“I'm hanging up.”

“Okay, okay, wait! Listen,” Aaron sighed, and Evan could almost picture his face contorting in pain. “I negotiated a price with the Greenes without asking you, but—”

“You did what ?!”

“—it can cover over six months of your loan installments!”

Evan jerked upright on the bed, and Misty yelped away.

“ Six …months?”

Evan’s attention was finally caught and tied down. That amount would be more than enough for the due installments and Celie’s tuition fee. He could even buy a real meal for once.

But that place…

Evan rubbed a hand down his face, conflicted and wary. He’d never taken on a case he couldn’t handle, but he’d also never been offered a sum this generous. The concentrated dark energy in that mansion was bad news. On the other hand, the amount offered was more than anything Evan could’ve managed to make even with twenty cases.

Jackpot . The word echoed in his mind, tempting.

There was no other way, was there? Evan had to do this. If anything, he had to try for Celie.

With a deep breath, Evan said to Aaron, “If I die during this case, I’m coming back to haunt you.”