Page 23 of Exorcise Me
Lucien shrugged elegantly. “Tell them what you believe to be true. I trust your judgment.”
The simple faith in his words warmed me. He trusted me to represent our relationship—whatever impossible, beautiful thing it was—to the very people trained to eradicate his kind.
“Okay,” I decided, taking a deep breath. “I’ll go. Tomorrow morning.”
Lucien nodded, pulling me closer. “And I’ll be here when you return. With comfort food and possibly excessive amounts of alcohol, depending on how it goes.”
I laughed despite my nerves, turning to kiss him properly. “What did I do to deserve you?”
His smile turned mischievous. “Must have been something truly wicked in a past life.”
“Or something truly good in this one,” I countered.
He pretended to shudder. “Please don’t say such terrible things about me. I have a reputation to maintain.”
I laughed again, the tension in my chest easing slightly. Whatever happened tomorrow, I wouldn’t face it alone—not really. For the first time in my life, I had someone who saw me completely and loved me not despite my doubts but because of them.
It was worth fighting for, even if it meant confronting everything I’d once believed to be true.
Chapter 13
The Seminary of Divine Protection looked exactly as it always had—a sprawling Gothic revival building of gray stone and stained glass, set back from the street behind wrought iron gates. I’d spent five years of my life here, learning exegesis and theology alongside the more practical aspects of exorcism.
As I walked up the familiar path to the main entrance, memories washed over me—late-night study sessions in the library, heated theological debates in the courtyard, quiet moments of doubt in the small chapel. This place had shaped me, for better or worse.
Father Finnegan was waiting in the foyer, his lined face somber. “Noah,” he said, nodding once in greeting. “The Council is assembled in the Chapter Room.”
No warm welcome, no inquiry about my well-being. The formality stung more than I expected.
“Thank you for arranging this,” I said, keeping my voice neutral as we walked through the hushed corridors. “I appreciate the opportunity to address any concerns.”
Father Finnegan glanced at me, something like sadness flashing across his face. “I tried to reach you privately many times, Noah. This could have been handled differently.”
Guilt pricked at me. He wasn’t wrong—I’d avoided his calls, chosen isolation over conversation. “I needed time,” I said simply.
“And now we all must deal with the consequences of that time,” he replied cryptically as we reached the heavy oak doors of the Chapter Room.
The Council—five senior exorcists, all men over sixty, all wearing expressions of grave concern—sat at a long table at the far end of the room. A single chair faced them, reminiscent of an interrogation setup. Father Finnegan guided me to it, then took his place at the end of the Council table.
“Noah Callahan,” intoned Father Oxley, the eldest and most traditional of the group. “You have been summoned to address serious concerns regarding your conduct as an exorcist and your commitment to your sacred calling. How do you respond?”
I sat straight in the uncomfortable chair, channeling some of Lucien’s easy confidence. “I’m here to listen and to speak honestly about my experiences.”
Father Oxley’s bushy eyebrows rose slightly at this calm response. Perhaps he’d expected defensiveness or denial.
“Very well,” he said, shuffling some papers before him. “The first matter concerns your abandonment of protocol during the Wellington case. Father Finnegan reports that you actively obstructed the exorcism ritual and insisted the afflicted girl receive medical attention instead.”
“That’s correct,” I confirmed. “The girl was suffering from epileptic seizures, not demonic possession. The hospital confirmed this diagnosis.”
“That is not for you to determine,” Father Oxley said sharply. “The protocol exists for a reason. Even if the girl had a medical condition, the blessing would have done no harm.”
I leaned forward. “With respect, Father, forcibly restraining a person experiencing a seizure can cause physical harm. The ritual was actively dangerous in that situation.”
Murmurs ran through the Council members. Father Finnegan’s expression remained carefully neutral, though I thought I detected a hint of pride in his eyes.
“The second concern,” continued Father Oxley, clearly eager to move on, “is your extended absence from duties and training. You have missed seventeen days of morning prayer, declined three assignment requests, and failed to submit your required reading reflections.”
These were factual charges I couldn’t deny. “I have been engaged in independent study,” I said carefully. “Researching deeper into demonology and the historical understanding of demonic entities.”
