Page 61 of A Hail From Hell: Vol 1

She squeezed the envelope into Evan’s hands. “It’s not much, but it’s all I can give you,” realizing it was money, Evan tried to refuse it, but she gripped his hands with both of hers. “You risked your life to save my daughter. This is the least I can do to repay you. Please. Take it.”

Aaron had become Evan’s manager quite early in his profession as an exorcist, so Evan had never received payment straight from a client. He didn't have to. At least not in a dusty envelope whose flap was a bit tattered, as if chewed by a rat.

In such awkward moments, Evan couldn’t tell whether to act on his impulse and withdraw his hand or try being considerate of the woman’s gratitude and accept the envelope. So naturally, he turned to the man whom he could trust with such decisions.

After a brief pause, Aaron nodded at Evan. Reluctantly, Evan’s fingers curled around the envelope. “Thank you.”

“No, thankyou,” Mrs. Simone hugged Evan, and he went still, hands hanging limp at his sides.

Aaron pointed at Evan and said to Aliza, “You see, he isn’t a hugger, but he also doesn’t know how to say no. Look at him. That’s the reason you need to learn to speak for yourself.”

The girl buried her smile into her shawl while Evan gave Aaron theI’ll kill youeyes.

Awkwardly standing frozen in an unrequited embrace, there wasn’t much he could do. As he casually looked around, a mirror hanging on the wall across from him gave him pause. Evan’s eyes locked on his own disheveled reflection, sweaty hair and torn coat, a woman sobbing in his chest. Then his eyes landed on the faint shadow hovering behind him, faint but present. Always watching.

If he were the Evan from a few weeks ago, he would have been startled, but as he stared into those crimson eyes shining in the shadow’s face, he realized that this would be a regular occurrence in his life from now on.

And what’s worse, Evan didn’t seem to mind it as much as he should have.

8. A Witch’s Grimoire

When Evan returned home that evening from Aliza Simone’s exorcism, he’d barely set foot into his room when a glimpse of white fur startled him. As he peeked inside his bedroom, his shock deepened when he found his “abducted” dog sitting perched near his bed, tongue lolling out a side of his smiling mouth. Misty sat poised at the edge of the bed, forelimbs crossed in an elegant manner as she glanced at Evan.

The trio stared at one another in turn, then Evan lunged towards the dog with a muffled grunt.

Thank fucking God.

He hadn’t thought he’d see him again. He’d almost convinced himself to erect a small wooden plate in his backyard as a memorial for the dog he had for approximately one evening.

Relief and aggressive affection drove him crazy for a moment as he squeezed the dog in his embrace, and the dog licked any patch of Evan’s skin he could find. Seeing them rolling on the ground happily, Misty blinked at them before joining in on their fun.

It was the exact definition of happy family in Evan’s dictionary.

The next day, Evan shouldered his new parental responsibilities and decided to take his pup on a stroll. He crafted a makeshift collar from his belt, and the dog jumped in excitement as he put it around his neck. Evan pulled on a pair ofblack shorts and a black hoodie before hopping out with his dog on his tail.

The main town was a little over a mile from his house, and there was nothing but scattered vegetation and greenery lining the path. No neighbors or shops or people. Just the distant breeze of Del blowing as they trudged the narrow, dry trail leading to town.

Glancing at the white fur ball skipping beside him, Evan thought out loud, “What should we name you, buddy?”

It wasn’t like he’d not thought about a name at all. In fact, Evan had come up with several, yet none of them pleased him when he tried calling them out loud. He wasn’t very fond of people, so giving the dog a human-ish name made Evan a bit uncomfortable. Still, he didn’t want to name him something that might make thedoguncomfortable.

There had to be some middle ground.

Naming Misty wasn’t very difficult. The day he’d found her as a kitten, curled under a bush in his backyard, she’d been drenched in morning mist, shivering and ice cold. And when he’d picked her up, a silver drop of mist had rolled from atop her head and into her big golden eyes. The moment she innocently blinked the moisture away and looked up at Evan, he had blurted out “Misty” as if compelled by her beauty.

That day Evan had discovered a hole in his armor.

Adorable things were his weakness.

But if the same logic of naming was applied to his new pet, he’d have to name the dog “Muddy” or “Dusty,” because that’s what he’d been splattered with when Evan had found him.

“Hm. Guess you’ll have to do with “Buddy” for the time being, until I find something to name you after,” Evan said, bending down to scratch behind his buddy’s floppy ears.

Huffing happily, the dog shook off his fur, enjoying his pretty privileges. Until suddenly, his attention was diverted.

His curled ears perked upright, and with a jerk of his hind legs, he bolted straight forward.

“Hey! Where are you going?” Evan called out, thinking he would run and come skipping back, but when the dog’s retrieving figure didn’t seem to slow down, he rushed behind it. “Buddy, wait. Come back!”

---