Page 59 of Dragon in Boots

Belch shrugged. “Then don’t.”

“You just said that some of us are who we are—bad leopards who can’t change their ugly spots.”

“No,” Belch corrected, “I said that you are who you are, and men like us cannot be defined byonething. For example, maybe you love your wife and couldn’t imagine a life without her, but a part of you really loves to get naked and fuel the masses’ need to blow off steam, so you sneak out at night and DJ at your sister’s nightclub in downtown LA, and then you drink too much and vomit on people’s heads, but they just cheer you on because deep down inside, who doesn’t want to be puked on by a god?”

Damien winced with disgust. “Thank you for that vivid explanation.”

“Greystone, I am a deity, and I can tell you’re a man meant to walk the path of doing bad things for the right reasons.” He paused. “And of doing good things for the wrong reasons. The first is who you are, and the world needs men willing to do the dirty work that keeps others safe. The second is your personal hurdle in life—the challenge you must overcome to reach your full potential.

“You do not trust yourself, and your fear of making mistakes—of harming others—is so great that you sit in your little shop, hiding, when you should be unleashing the warrior inside. Hell, I know you have it in you. We watched you for years before you took up tailoring again. You could track down a demon, kill a Chupacabra, and defang an entire coven of vampires all before breakfast.”

Those events had happened during Damine’s bounty-hunter days, but Belch was one hundred percent right. Years ago, Damien had been a force to reckon with; however, there was always collateral damage, and one day, the innocent blood on his hands had become too much. Eventually, Damien decided to retire and go back to the respectable trade that defined the Greystone men.

“I appreciate the candor,” Damien said. “May I ask you something? I understand the gods had a shake-up with their powers before their retirement. Which powers did you end up with?” Damien was curious.

Belch rubbed his chin. “From what I can tell, I am still the God of Wine.”

“But I do not recall you being so introspective and wise before.”

“Margarita thinks I inherited Cimil’s fortune-cookie powers.”

That explained it. “Ah. Cookie power. It suits you,” Damien said.

“Do not be silly. I don’t wear the power, tailor.”

There’s the stupid god I know.

“Also,” Belch added, “your lucky numbers are yellow and eight.”

Damien gave him a look. The gods really were insane.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Jac couldn’t believe she was back at the strip club. If she never saw this crazy place again, it would be too soon.

She pulled up front, noting the big poster on the door with Dash’s face that readNew Dash Show Tonight!

Jac’s heart fluttered with relief. He wasn’t dead! Obviously, Dash wasn’t out of the woods yet, but this was great news.

Jac entered the club, and there, standing in the middle of the stage, was Dash talking to a man who looked…identical. They even wore the same clothes—jeans, a white tee, and black boots.

Dash has a twin?

“No, no. You’re not doing it right,” said one of the men. “You have to circle your hips and then thrust.”

“Like this?” The other man followed his instructions.

“What’s going on?” Jac asked.

Both men turned their heads and looked at her.

“Jac, what are you doing here?” asked one.

“I came to talk to Heebie. What is this?”

The one on the right stepped forward. “I figured since you like this body, I should borrow the look. And I’ve always wanted to be a dancer.”

Jac narrowed her eyes. “Heebie?”

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