Page 16 of Exorcise Me (Hotter than Hell)

Lucien was waiting exactly as he’d promised, lounging on my couch with a spread of comfort foods on the coffee table—pizza, chocolate, and what appeared to be homemade cookies, alongside a bottle of expensive whiskey.

He sat up as I entered, his amber eyes scanning my face. “That bad, huh?”

I dropped my keys on the side table and collapsed next to him, immediately leaning into his solid presence. “Not as bad as it could have been,” I admitted. “They’re giving me a choice.”

Lucien’s arm wrapped around me, pulling me closer. “What kind of choice?”

“Forty days of ‘spiritual cleansing’ followed by renouncing you and recommitting to my vows, or being released from the Seminary and my position as an exorcist.” I reached for the whiskey, pouring a generous measure into one of the waiting glasses. “Some choice.”

Lucien was quiet for a moment, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on my shoulder. “It is a choice, Noah,” he said finally. “A real one. And you should consider it carefully.”

I pulled back to look at him, surprised. “You think I should consider renouncing you? Declaring our relationship a demonic deception?”

His expression was serious, lacking its usual mischief. “I think you should consider what your calling means to you, separate from me. Being an exorcist has defined your life for years. That’s not something to discard lightly, even for…” he gestured between us, “…whatever miracle this is.”

The selflessness of his concern touched me deeply. “You would let me go?” I asked quietly. “If I chose that path?”

Pain flashed across his face, quickly masked.

“I would respect your choice,” he said carefully.

“Though I won’t pretend it wouldn’t destroy me.

” His attempt at a smile fell flat. “Seven hundred years of existence, and you manage to be the one who could break my heart. Quite an achievement, exorcist.”

I set down my untouched whiskey and took his face in my hands, forcing him to meet my eyes. “I’m not choosing that path,” I said firmly. “I’ve already decided.”

Hope and wariness warred in his expression. “Noah—”

“No, listen to me.” I held his gaze, wanting him to see my certainty. “My calling has never been to an institution. It’s been to truth, to helping people face darkness—real darkness, not the simplified version the Seminary teaches. I can do that without their approval or authority.”

“It will be harder,” he warned. “Without their resources, their community.”

“I’ll have you,” I said simply. “Your knowledge, your perspective, your love. That’s worth more than any institutional backing.”

Something vulnerable and wondering bloomed in his eyes. “You’re choosing me,” he whispered, as if saying it aloud might make it disappear. “Over everything you’ve known.”

“I’m choosing us,” I corrected. “And a more honest path. One where I can still help people but without the dogma that limits understanding.” I stroked his cheek, marveling at how this being—ancient and powerful beyond human comprehension—could look at me with such open need.

“I love you, Lucien. That’s not going to change, no matter what spiritual cleansing they might put me through. ”

He caught my wrist, turning to press a kiss to my palm. “Noah Callahan,” he murmured against my skin, “do you have any idea what you do to me? What it means to hear you say these things?”

“Show me,” I suggested, my voice dropping lower as I moved closer.

His eyes darkened, that now-familiar amber glow intensifying. “With pleasure,” he growled, pulling me into his lap in one fluid motion.

What followed was a celebration of our choice—passionate, tender, and affirming. Lucien’s hands and mouth mapped my body as if memorizing every inch, every response. I returned his attention with equal fervor, whispering words of love and commitment against his skin.

We didn’t make it to the bedroom, christening the couch, then the kitchen counter, then finally the shower—each encounter more intense than the last, as if the decision I’d made had broken some final barrier between us.

Afterward, wrapped in towels and each other, we sprawled on my bed in contented exhaustion.

“So what happens now?” Lucien asked, his fingers playing idly with my damp hair. “After you officially break up with the Church tomorrow.”

I laughed at his phrasing. “I’m not sure. I’ll need to find a way to support myself. ‘Former exorcist’ isn’t exactly a transferable skill set for most jobs.”

“You’d be surprised,” he mused. “Your understanding of comparative religion, psychology, historical texts… there are academic positions that would value those skills.”

I propped myself up on one elbow, studying him. “Are you suggesting I become a professor?”

“Why not? Dr. Callahan, expert in occult studies and demonology, with a special focus on cross-dimensional entities.” His smile was teasing but his eyes were serious. “You could do real good, Noah. Challenge assumptions, expand understanding, maybe even build bridges between worlds.”

The idea was appealing. I’d always enjoyed the research and academic aspects of my training. “I’d need credentials,” I pointed out. “The Seminary education isn’t exactly recognized by secular universities.”

“Details,” Lucien waved dismissively. “I happen to know several beings in academic positions who could help with that. Demons aren’t the only non-human entities with an interest in your world, you know.”

I blinked, absorbing this casual revelation about the supernatural world. “You’re saying there are… what, other types of entities working in academia?”

“Oh, sweet summer child,” Lucien laughed.

“Why do you think tenure exists? Some professors literally haven’t aged in centuries.

” He kissed my forehead. “But that’s a conversation for another day.

The point is, you have options. Your life isn’t over because you’re leaving the Seminary. It’s just beginning.”

The optimism in his voice was infectious. For the first time since receiving the Council’s summons, I felt genuine excitement about the future—a future with Lucien at my side, continuing my work in new ways, perhaps even building something better than what I was leaving behind.

“Thank you,” I said, pressing a kiss to his chest, right over where his heart beat its steady, inhuman rhythm. “For supporting me through this. For not asking me to choose between my calling and you.”

His arms tightened around me. “I would never ask that of you. Your compassion, your desire to help others—they’re essential parts of who you are, of why I love you.

” He tilted my chin up, his expression suddenly serious.

“But Noah, you should know… this won’t be easy.

There are entities out there—demon and otherwise—who won’t appreciate what we’re doing, this crossing of boundaries.

There will be resistance, possibly even danger. ”

“I know,” I said, matching his seriousness. “I’m not naive about that.”

“Good,” he nodded. “Because I need you to be careful. I’m rather attached to you now, and would be quite put out if something happened to you.”

I smiled at the understatement. “Likewise. So we’ll be careful together.”

His answering smile was like sunshine after rain. “Together,” he repeated, as if the word itself was precious. “I like the sound of that.”

I settled back against his chest, feeling more certain about my path forward than I had in years. Tomorrow, I would face the Council and formally end my time with the Seminary. It would be difficult, painful even, to leave the institution that had shaped so much of my life.

But in Lucien’s arms, with the promise of a new kind of calling ahead, I knew I was making the right choice. Not just for myself, but for the truth I had sworn to serve.

Together, I thought as sleep began to claim me. It was a good word indeed.