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“Pity you don’t have thumbs. You can’t eat him without causing problems, but you could find out what he was hiding.”

Pan didn’t say anything, and he usually had something to say about everything. Delilah taught him to travel anywhere he wanted with shadows and how to use his senses to scope out a scene. He could pick up everything from who was in the room to what their mood was. He could listen in and report back.

Pan could read, but he couldn’t get into priceless documents without destroying them because he just had paws.

And I didn’t know why pointing out the obvious seemed to upset him. It felt like I’d hurt his feelings and I didn’t know why. Pan hopped off the bed and disappeared in a puff of smoke. He did that a lot when he needed to go out, but he usually announced it and made a joke about it.

What was going on? Pan was my best friend. We’d said way worse to each other than commenting on his lack of thumbs. I went to a different salon for a hair cut once and had a human do my hair. My usual demon hairdresser took a month off because his cat died. Honestly, I got it, but I needed my hair done.

The human woman that did my hair botched the job and Pan ripped me about it for weeks. A German Shepherd at the dog park tried to dominance hump him and he couldn’t eat him because we were in public. I still brought that up.

What was going on with Pan?

My phone went off as I was waking up. Pan was not a morning person and let out a low growl. Most of my paid jobs came via phone call, but some came over text. The Flame had moved into the modern world. You could still walk into the closest dive bar run by the Flame and pick up a job, but you could also sign up for text alerts. Those were still pretty spotty, so I preferred hitting up a bar.

I was so expecting a job. Rainer refused to text. If you sent him a text, he’d ignore it until you called him. We had to set up a code. There was one thing I could text and Rainer would know I was in deep shit and couldn’t call. Rainer, Pan, and I were the only people who knew what that sentence meant.

I wasn’t expecting a bed selfie from Saul and a good morning text. The three of them were all good looking in very different ways. Saul was a giant with the body of a lumberjack, but he had blond hair, blue eyes, and a baby face. Solomon had dark skin and big brown eyes. He wore these horn-rimmed glasses that gave him this sexy nerd vibe. Caleb was much older than me, but he was fairly jacked for a priest and had this silver fox thing going on.

I wasn’t blind or dead. They were all hot as fuck. We were also playing into very dangerous territory with good morning texts and bed selfies. Part of me wanted to respond with my own bed selfie and a good morning text, but the part of me that knew I needed to shut this down sent him a photo of Pan’s butthole.

Saul-Not exactly what I was expecting. Solomon gets cranky when he hasn’t slept and he’s running on two hours sleep. No spoilers on that diary. He hates repeating himself and tried to assault me with toast when I asked.

Sorry? What exactly was he expecting? I didn’t send titty pics as a rule. I didn’t want my girls plastered across some revenge porn site because Pan tried to eat some guy I was trying to date. I definitely didn’t send titty pics to priests. He was just going to have to make do with my dog’s asshole.

I was going to regret this, but I had to ask.

Logan-What exactly were you expecting?

Saul-Good morning back without the closeup of your dog’s rear end? I much prefer his front.

Did this guy really not know what a good morning text and a bed selfie meant? And did I really want to explain it to him if he didn’t? I didn’t particularly want to think about it, so I snapped another photo of Pan, just from the front this time.

Saul-Tell me about Hellhounds? We were taught they were evil, but Pan is not.

Ah. This was a conversation I was comfortable with.

Logan-They typically send them when contracts are up when someone sold their soul. I know that’s a big thing for Venatio Daemonum, but demons aren’t pressuring anyone to make those deals. A crossroads demon comes when summoned and only then.

Saul-Is that dangerous for Pan?

Logan-Pan doesn’t do that. Pan stays with me and I don’t make him. I wouldn’t stop him if he wanted to, though. Has he spoken to you yet? He likes you.

Saul-I’m confused.

Logan-He can speak to you telepathically. Hellhounds are intelligent. Pan can read if someone will turn the pages for him. I sent him ahead to the house because I wasn’t sure if I’d get there before you. He was able to tell exactly what was inside just using his magic. He does like you. Pan usually chases or pees on men. I’m guessing he didn’t speak to you because he didn’t want to scare you and alert your friends.

Saul-I know you’re protective of Pan, but I know these men. They want to believe you that not all supernaturals are evil, but they’ve been hearing the exact opposite since they found out about them. They saw Pan save us from those werewolves. They are familiar with him because he’s peed on them more than they’d like to admit. He’s adorable. Tell them the truth and if Pan can really communicate, let him tell them in his own words.

Pan stayed with me all this time. He slept next to me every night, and he went everywhere I could bring him. I didn’t own him and even though he usually asked me permission, I didn’t order him around. If he asked and really wanted to do something, I told him to go ahead unless it was going to cause trouble.

It was up to Pan who knew his secret unless it was a shifter who could scent it. He was my best friend, and I told him everything. He never spilled my secrets, and I wasn’t telling anyone his.

“He’s right,” Pan said. “I might be the best chance of convincing these men that we aren’t all evil. I’m okay with telling them. They seem open to listening.”

“I’m sorry about the thumbs comment, Pan. It seemed to upset you and I wasn’t trying to.”

Pan just hopped off the bed and went to his water bowl. What was up with that? We talked about everything and I didn’t know why that comment upset him or why he didn’t want to hear my apology.