Page 27 of Dragon in Boots

And they brought the Jaws of Life with them?That didn’t make sense.

Now in her truck, she floored it to the Pink Pit of Pleasure. Not that she expected Dash to be there, but Mink would know where he lived.

She parked along the side of the building since the main lot was full for their midnight show. The moment she stepped out, Mink appeared. “You’re late!”

“I don’t work here anymore. You fired me.”

“Says who?” Mink barked.

“You, and…never mind.” Jac shook her head at the annoying, creepy woman. “I just came because I need Dash’s home address.”

“I can’t give out that information.” Mink smiled wilily. “But how badly do you want it?”

Oh, I get it.“I can have the address if I help you out at the bar. Is that it?”

“Such a generous offer.”

“Gah…” Jac grumbled, quickly losing her patience with these asylum inmates. She followed Mink inside through a side door that led to the staging area for the dancers. Out in the theater, Jac could hear the audience booing and jeering whoever was onstage.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“Our Dash substitute has poor thrust moves.”

Jac felt sorry for the poor sucker attempting to fill Dash’s boots. The audience came for him and only him.

“Hurry,” Mink said. “Get to the bar and start liquoring up the women.”

“Fine.” Jac went out to the hallway and entered the theater from the back. The audience looked downright feral, and not in an “I want to lick Dash” sort of way.

The tall, very handsome man onstage had a killer body and an impressive six-pack, but his moves were stiff and robotic. He kept rolling his eyes, like the entire thing was beneath him.

“Dash! Dash! Dash!” the women began chanting.

Tough crowd, she thought.

Jac found one of the servers behind the counter, making a mess of everything—margarita slush everywhere, limes on the floor, grenadine syrup spread across the counter.

“Here, you start cleaning, and I’ll make drinks,” Jac told her and got to work. The server burst into tears but began cleaning. It seemed everyone was working against their will tonight.

Jac reached behind her for a bottle of Jack to prep a drink. Suddenly, the crowd went wild, screaming with delight. She turned around, and there on the stage, next to the bored hot guy, was Dash.

“I don’t believe it.” At his feet was Heebie, his little leg looking perfectly fine.

What the hell?It didn’t make any sense. She’d seen the broken leg with her own eyes.

“Jac? I need my drinks,” said Trish, the same server from the other night.

“Oh. Sorry.” Jac went to work, keeping one eye on the show.

Dash turned his back to the audience, removed his jeans, and did a butt flex, popping his cheeks to the beat of the music.

Like before, the women lost their minds and began acting like possessed, sexual she-demons worshipping at the shrine of Master Dash.

Not right.It wasn’t natural for grown women to behave so crazily.

She glanced down at the bottle of tequila in her hand, a thought crossing her mind. Was it possible? Was Mrs. Peepers slipping something in the booze?

Dash ended his routine with a snap of his fingers, and Heebie ran up his back with no signs of injury.

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