Page 26 of Dragon in Boots

She went to check on Heebie in the next room. His cast was on the floor, and his crate was empty.

“I can’t believe it.” Those bars were made of solid steel. How had he bent them? And why would he remove poor Heebie’s cast?

Pissed off and confused, Jac marched outside, determined to find Dash and get that kitten the medical help it needed.

Just then, a shriek echoed through the night sky. She looked up to see…to see…

“What is that?” The thing had a wingspan of at least a hundred feet and a tail just as long with barbs on the end.

Suddenly, a giant fireball launched from the creature’s mouth and tore through the night, lighting up everything around her. She stumbled and fell back onto her ass, watching it fly away.

Holy shit. Was that a dragon?

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Wearing nothing but a tool belt, jeans, and work boots, Damien paced backstage at the Pink Pit of Pleasure, spewing every swear word in the book. None of the other male dancers said much, but he knew they were laughing behind his back. What was such a man—tall, dignified, and supremely alpha male—doing in a place like this?

Fodder for the hungry, sex-deprived spinsters of Dallas.From the sound of their screaming, one would think they’d never seen a man before.

He couldn’t believe he’d gotten himself into this situation. All because he couldn’t walk away from Cimil’s offer until he spoke with Sky, who was MIA.

Why can’t I be more of an asshole?It wasn’t that he still loved the woman, but he knew what it was like to be trapped in an existence that felt like torture. Those years hosting a rage demon had not been easy—or gore-free—and if someone had offered him a fresh start, a new life, he might not have ended up the solitary, coldhearted ex-assassin, ex-soldier, ex-fixer he was today.

At least I am a fantastic tailor.

Still, how could he in good conscience deny Sky one more chance to live? If that was what she wanted.

Unfortunately, there was still no sign of Pet or Sky since they’d gone off to look for Cimil, and he had no way of contacting them. Thus the reason he’d buckled when he received a text from Cimil, insisting he fill in for the missing dragon stripper.

Cimil:Lose it or lose it, tailor. Tick tock! Forty minutes to showtime!

Damien:You are evil.

Cimil:Wha, wha. No duh.

When he’d shown up here, looking to renegotiate with Cimil, she was nowhere to be found. Instead, he’d been greeted by Frankenstripper’s bride here—some Amazonian-like female in a leather catsuit, who immediately began barking orders.

I’ve never felt so degraded.

“You almost ready?” the woman said, looking him over like a piece of meat. Drool included.

“Where is Cimil?” he asked for the fifth time.

She licked her lips. “Look, buddy. I just run the place, m’kay? And if Cimil said you’re dancing, then you’re dancing.”

But this had nothing to do with the original deal: he would help her with the dragon; then she’d help Sky and surrender peacefully.

The woman added, “You have one minute. When the music starts, you go out there and do the moves I showed you. Okay?” She grabbed the air in front of her and began rocking her pelvis.

“I’m a tailor. I dress people, not take clothes off. Or perform ridiculous mime-porn.”

“Don’t youdareinsult mime-porn. It’s a dying art!” Her nostrils flared. “Enough with the whining. You in or out? Thirty seconds.”

“Fine. I’ll do it.” Damien tightened his tool belt and drew a deep breath. The damned thong was riding up his ass. How did anyone stand these?

Jac didn’t know what to make of that creature in the sky, but it had to have been some sort of hologram. Dragons weren’t real.

Whatwasreal were the bent bars on that lion cage. Someone must’ve come to help Dash.

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