Page 10 of Exorcise Me (Hotter than Hell)

I drove home in a daze, my mind replaying the events of the day in an endless loop. Sadie’s contorted body. Father Finnegan’s disappointment. The paramedic’s matter-of-fact assessment of a medical condition, not a spiritual affliction.

And beneath it all, the question that had been haunting me since Lucien appeared in my life: What if everything I’d been taught was wrong?

By the time I reached my apartment building, night had fallen. I sat in my car for long minutes, gathering courage for the conversation I knew awaited me upstairs. Lucien would have questions. He deserved answers. I just wasn’t sure I had them.

When I finally unlocked my apartment door, I was greeted by darkness and silence. No music playing. No delicious smells from the kitchen. No Lucien lounging on my couch with a book or my laptop.

“Lucien?” I called, flipping on lights as I moved through the apartment. “Are you here?”

No answer.

I checked every room, a growing sense of dread building in my chest. The bathroom was empty, the bedroom undisturbed. In the kitchen, a note sat on the counter, held down by a small jar of honey I didn’t remember buying.

With trembling fingers, I picked up the note.

Noah,

I think we both need some space to consider what happens next. You have choices to make that shouldn’t be influenced by my presence (or my admittedly spectacular bedroom skills).

Don’t worry—I haven’t gone far. When you’re ready to talk, truly ready, hold this jar up to the light and say my name three times. Yes, it’s dramatic, but I am a demon. We have standards to maintain.

Whatever you decide, know that these past days have meant more to me than you can imagine.

- L

P.S. The honey is excellent in tea. Or other places, if you’re feeling adventurous.

I read the note three times, emotions warring in my chest. Relief that he hadn’t simply abandoned me. Frustration that he’d left just when I needed to talk to him most. And beneath it all, a profound ache that I wasn’t ready to name.

I held the honey jar up, turning it in my hands. It would be so easy to call him back right now. To see his face, hear his voice, feel his arms around me.

But he was right. I had choices to make—about my faith, my calling, my future. Choices that needed to be made clearly, not clouded by the intoxicating presence of a demon who made me question everything I thought I knew.

With a heavy sigh, I set the jar down and moved to the couch—Lucien’s makeshift bed for the past week. It still smelled faintly of him, that unique blend of cinnamon and smoke and something otherworldly.

I lay down, pulling the throw blanket over me. My apartment felt emptier than it ever had before, as if Lucien had taken some vital energy with him when he left.

What am I going to do? I wondered, staring at the ceiling.

No answer came. Not from above, not from within.

For the first time in my life, I would have to find my own path, without the guidance of mentors or the certainty of doctrine.

The thought was terrifying.

It was also strangely liberating.