Page 17 of Exorcise Me (Hotter than Hell)

ONE YEAR LATER

“You’re going to be late,” Lucien called from the kitchen, where the smell of coffee and something cinnamon-spiced was filling our apartment.

“I know, I know,” I muttered, rummaging through the dresser for my favorite blue shirt—the one Lucien insisted brought out my eyes. “Have you seen my—”

“Second drawer from the bottom, under your sweaters,” he interrupted. “And your notes are already in your messenger bag, organized by topic, with the most recent case study on top.”

I found the shirt exactly where he’d said it would be, pulling it on with a grateful smile. “What would I do without you?”

“Perish miserably,” Lucien replied cheerfully, appearing in the bedroom doorway with a travel mug of coffee and a paper bag that presumably contained breakfast. “Or at the very least, be perpetually late and disorganized.”

He looked unfairly gorgeous this morning, his dark hair artfully tousled, wearing a simple black t-shirt and jeans that somehow looked runway-ready on his perfect frame.

The small silver pendant I’d given him for our six-month anniversary—a protection symbol from a tradition much older than Christianity—gleamed at his throat.

“You’re staring again,” he observed, his eyes twinkling with familiar mischief.

“Just appreciating the view,” I replied, buttoning my shirt.

“Save the appreciation for later.” He pressed the coffee and bag into my hands, then straightened my collar. “Today’s a big day. First public lecture as Dr. Callahan, occult studies expert extraordinaire.”

The reminder sent a flutter of nerves through my stomach.

After leaving the Seminary, I’d spent months researching and documenting my experiences, with Lucien’s help and insights.

The resulting paper—carefully anonymized but groundbreaking in its approach to demonology—had caught the attention of several academics in the field.

One thing had led to another, and now I found myself with a visiting scholar position at the university, giving my first public lecture on “Reconsidering Cross-Dimensional Entities: Beyond the Binary of Good and Evil.”

“What if no one comes?” I worried, taking a sip of the perfectly prepared coffee. “Or worse, what if they laugh me out of the lecture hall?”

Lucien rolled his eyes, guiding me toward the apartment door.

“Your RSVPs exceeded capacity three days ago. And while there will certainly be skeptics, no one is going to laugh.” He pressed a quick kiss to my lips.

“Besides, I’ll be in the back row, ready to smite anyone who shows insufficient respect. ”

“No smiting,” I reminded him, though the image made me smile. “We agreed—no supernatural interventions in my academic career.”

“Fine, no smiting,” he conceded with an exaggerated sigh. “Just menacing glares and pointed questions that expose their intellectual inadequacies.”

I laughed, some of my nervousness easing. “That, I’ll allow.”

As we headed out, I glanced around our apartment—so different from the sparse, impersonal space I’d inhabited a year ago.

Now it was filled with life: books overflowing from shelves Lucien had insisted on organizing by color rather than subject; artifacts from his centuries of existence tastefully displayed alongside my more mundane possessions; plants thriving on every windowsill because he’d discovered a surprising talent for nurturing growing things.

It was home in a way no place had ever been for me before.

The past year hadn’t been easy. Leaving the Seminary had meant losing not just my position but much of my community.

Father Finnegan had been one of the few to maintain contact, our relationship evolving into something more like equals than mentor and student.

He still didn’t approve of Lucien, but he’d come to respect my choice, even admitting that some of my research had made him question certain aspects of the Seminary’s approach.

My new path had brought its own challenges.

Building credibility in academic circles without conventional credentials had required creativity and perseverance.

And Lucien had been right about resistance from the supernatural world—we’d faced opposition from entities on both sides who viewed our relationship as dangerous or heretical.

But we’d also found allies. Other beings living quietly among humans, other scholars questioning rigid categorizations of supernatural phenomena, even a small network of former Seminary students who’d harbored their own doubts about the institution’s teachings.

“What are you thinking about?” Lucien asked as we walked to my car. “You’ve got that introspective look.”

“Just… everything that’s changed. How far we’ve come.” I took his hand, still marveling at how natural it felt now. “A year ago, I thought my life was over. Now it feels like it’s just beginning.”

His expression softened. “And to think, it all started with a failed exorcism. The Kensingtons would be appalled to know what they set in motion.”

I laughed, remembering the middle-aged couple with their porcelain cat collection and hideous wallpaper. “Maybe we should send them a thank you card.”

“Or a better interior designer,” Lucien suggested, opening the car door for me with a flourish. “Now go dazzle the academic world with your brilliance. I’ll meet you there—I have a small errand to run first.”

I raised an eyebrow. “An errand? Should I be concerned?”

“Nothing nefarious,” he assured me, though the gleam in his eyes suggested mischief of some kind. “Just a surprise for later. To celebrate your academic debut.”

“Now I’m definitely concerned,” I teased, but leaned out of the car to kiss him once more. “I love you, you know. Even when you’re being mysterious and probably plotting something outrageous.”

“Especially then,” he corrected with a grin. “And I love you too, Noah Callahan. More than I thought it possible to love anyone in seven centuries of existence.”

The simple declaration still had the power to take my breath away. “I’ll see you at the lecture hall?” I confirmed.

“Wild horses couldn’t keep me away,” he promised. “Or wild demons, for that matter.”

With a final wave, I drove off, watching him in my rearview mirror until he disappeared from sight.

* * *

The lecture hall was indeed at capacity, faces both familiar and unknown turning to watch as I approached the podium. I spotted Lucien in the back as promised, his encouraging smile giving me the confidence to begin.

“Good afternoon,” I said, my voice stronger than I expected. “Thank you all for coming. Today, I want to challenge some fundamental assumptions about how we categorize and understand entities from beyond our dimensional reality…”

As I spoke, I watched the audience reactions—skepticism from some, intrigue from others, and from Lucien, a pride that warmed me more than any academic approval ever could.

I was speaking truths that had never been voiced in these halls before, bridging worlds that had been separated by fear and misunderstanding for millennia.

The questions afterward were thoughtful, challenging, occasionally hostile—exactly what I’d expected. I answered each with the confidence of someone who knew his subject not just from books but from lived experience.

When it was over, a small crowd gathered around the podium, eager to continue the discussion.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Lucien slip out, giving me a subtle nod that I interpreted as “I’ll see you at home.

” He understood that this moment—my first real acceptance in the academic community—was important for me to navigate on my own.

Hours later, intellectually stimulated but socially exhausted, I finally headed home. The sun was setting as I climbed the stairs to our apartment, casting long shadows through the hallway windows.

I opened our door to darkness, which was unusual—Lucien typically kept lights on, claiming that “humans need illumination, unlike superior beings who can see perfectly well in the dark.”

“Lucien?” I called, setting down my bag and reaching for the light switch.

Before I could find it, a soft glow appeared—candles, dozens of them, placed throughout the living room, creating pools of golden light that transformed our familiar space into something almost magical.

Lucien stood in the center of the room, still in the same clothes from this morning but now holding a small box in his hands. The candlelight caught the planes of his face, the amber of his eyes, making him look more otherworldly than usual—a beautiful contradiction of familiar and strange.

“What is all this?” I asked, heart suddenly racing as I stepped into the room.

“A celebration,” he said, his voice unusually soft. “Of your success today. Of our year together. Of… us.”

He moved closer, and I noticed something I’d never seen before—a nervousness in his usually confident demeanor, a slight uncertainty in his movements.

“Noah Callahan,” he began, stopping just before me. “When I followed you home from that ridiculous exorcism a year ago, I was simply curious. Intrigued by an exorcist who doubted, who questioned, who hesitated where others charged forward with blind certainty.”

He took my hand, his touch warm and familiar. “I never expected to find my home. My purpose. My heart.” He looked down at our joined hands, then back to my face. “In seven centuries, I’ve never belonged anywhere or to anyone. Until you.”

My throat tightened with emotion. “Lucien—”

“Let me finish,” he said gently. “I know our situation is… unprecedented. A former exorcist and a demon, building a life together, challenging centuries of division between our kinds. I know there will always be those who oppose us, who don’t understand what we’ve found in each other.”

He opened the small box, revealing two rings—simple bands of what appeared to be silver, but with an internal glow that suggested something more than earthly metal.

“I can’t offer you a traditional human marriage,” he continued, his voice thick with emotion.

“But I can offer you this—a binding from my realm, adapted for our unique circumstances. These rings are forged from star-metal, blessed by entities older than either of our traditions. They symbolize a connection that transcends dimensions, that persists beyond physical presence.”

He took one ring from the box. “If you accept, this would make us partners in the deepest sense—bound not just by emotion or choice, but by something more fundamental. It would… well, it would make us family, by the standards of my kind.”

I stared at the ring, then at Lucien’s face—vulnerable and hopeful and so deeply loved that it made my chest ache.

“Are you proposing to me?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

His smile was tentative. “In a manner of speaking. Though it goes beyond what humans typically mean by marriage. This would be a recognition that our souls—yes, demons have them too—are complementary parts of a whole.”

I thought about what he was offering—not just commitment, but acknowledgment of what I’d felt almost from the beginning: that meeting him wasn’t coincidence but convergence, two paths meant to intertwine.

“Yes,” I said, the word coming easily, naturally. “Yes, I accept.”

Joy bloomed across his face, brighter than the candlelight surrounding us. “You’re sure? This isn’t a decision to make lightly—”

I silenced him with a kiss, pouring every ounce of certainty I felt into it. When we broke apart, both breathless, I smiled against his lips. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

With reverence, he slipped the ring onto my finger. It settled there as if it had always belonged, a pleasant warmth emanating from the metal, connecting to something deep within me.

I took the second ring from the box and placed it on his finger, watching as his breath caught at the completion of the circuit between us. For a moment, the air around us seemed to shimmer, reality itself acknowledging what had just transpired.

“What happens now?” I asked softly, our hands still joined.

Lucien’s smile was radiant. “Now we continue what we’ve started—building bridges, challenging assumptions, loving each other through whatever comes next.

” He pressed his forehead to mine. “And tonight, specifically, I show you one of the benefits of being bound to a being with supernatural stamina.”

I laughed, joy bubbling up from some inexhaustible source within me. “I like that plan.”

As he led me toward our bedroom, I caught sight of our reflections in the window—a former exorcist and his demon, hands linked, rings glowing softly in the candlelight. An impossible pair, redefined by love rather than ancient enmity.

“My favorite sin,” Lucien murmured against my neck as we crossed the threshold into our room.

I turned in his arms, framing his beautiful face with my hands. “Not sin,” I corrected gently. “Redemption. For both of us.”

His eyes glowed with inhuman light and very human emotion. “Semantics,” he whispered, lowering me to our bed. “Either way, I’m yours.”

“And I’m yours,” I replied, pulling him down to me, sealing our bond in the most ancient way possible.

Outside, the world continued its endless debate about good and evil, light and dark, salvation and damnation.

But in our small corner of existence, we had found a greater truth—that love transcends categories, that understanding requires openness, and that sometimes, the most sacred path is the one you forge yourself.

With Lucien beside me, I was ready for whatever that path might bring.