Page 3 of My Demon Assistant

God, if Archer or Kat saw me now, they'd kick my ass for being a mopey idiot.

It wasn't their fault. I didn't blame them for finding happiness, and I was glad they'd found their people.

My issues were my own, and I knew intellectually that they hadn't abandoned me. That I could show up at either of their houses right now and they'd feed me and hang out with me and they'd enjoy it.

I knew that, but it didn't matter.

It'd been a long time since I'd felt lonely, and I'd forgotten how bad it could be.

Being a foster kid meant you knew not to get attached, and I hadn't. Not until I met Archer and Kat in middle school.

We'd been thick as thieves from the moment we met, and there had been no secrets between us. Hell, we didn't have many boundaries.

Even when I had to change schools because of changing homes, we'd kept in touch, and once I was in high school, Kat and Archer had saved up so I could stay with them after I left the foster care system.

They'd saved me, and they were my world.

And now they had worlds of their own, of which I was a smaller part than they were of mine. It made sense. Archer had a son and a boyfriend, Kat had a girlfriend, and of course they'd care more about them than their old friend. It was the way it should be.

Maybe what I really, truly wanted was someone to call mine. Someone sweet and dependable, someone who wouldn't leave.

"Stop daydreaming, Jerry," I muttered into the cushions, then heaved myself up. "And now I'm talking to myself. Just great."

I should get a pet. A pet was like a roommate, right? And I could talk to a pet, cuddle with them. It wasn't anywhere close to finding a romantic partner, but with Carol leaving and Archer working less to focus on his family, I needed to make work a priority.

I could get a dog. I could even bring them into work. I could take the dog on walks on my lunch break, or have my PA do it if I was busy. Dogs were good judges of character, weren't they? I might even let them sit in on the interviews to pick the new PA.

Tomorrow. I'd go to the animal shelter tomorrow.

Placing a delivery order, I grabbed a quick shower and changed into sleepwear just as the doorbell rang.

Paying for the food, I brought it back to the kitchen, then ate out of the boxes as I looked up the closest animal shelters. Some even had pages or websites on social media with short bios of the animals they had available for adoption, and I spent almost an hour scrolling through dog pics and falling in love with all of them.

Choosing a dog might be a tougher decision than I'd expected.

Two

Eshim

IeyedKingDamien'soffice curiously as I waited for him. While demons were free to come and go from Otherworld—especially since we started working in the human realm—I'd never been to the king's office before.

King Damien was one of the kindest people I'd ever met, and even his office reflected that.

His desk and his walls were full of framed pictures, not just of his two mates and son, but what looked like practically the whole Otherworld population.

Some people showed up more than others, like the king's mates, Artemus and Reece, and his son, Walker. There was a man with cute cat ears that I knew to be the king's best friend, Caelan. There were also various team leaders of Otherworld—there were different teams that collected the souls of different types of humans—and Nox, a quirky man I really, really liked. He used to be responsible for taking care of the pit where the dark souls burned, but now there was a whole team for that too. Last I'd heard, Nox was doing 'volunteer work' for Fate.

I jumped when the door behind me opened, and turned to watch King Damien close the door behind him, then turn to me with a smile.

"Eshim! It's been a while. Is everything okay?"

I nodded as he walked around the room to settle behind his desk, his midnight black wings folded up comfortably behind him. His horns gleamed in the yellow glow of the lamps scattered around the room, looking extra sharp today.

His golden eyes peered at me curiously as he placed his arms on the table, nails a bright—and slightly messy—yellow today. He must've let his son, Walker, paint them. He was a sweet kid, the only one in all of Otherworld, which meant he had a lot of very dangerous people watching over him, none more than the man in front of me.

"You have something you want to discuss," he prompted, and I nodded again.

I was very rarely quiet. Actually, the other demons called me a chatterbox because of how infrequent it was for me to shut up. But King Damien was one of the few people who could silence me with just his presence, and I had to swallow a couple of times to find my voice.

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