Page 27 of Exorcise Me
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 mychin 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.
Epilogue
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.”
