Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 62528 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62528 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
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 you dare insult 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.
What was real were the bent bars on that lion cage. Someone must’ve come to help Dash.
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.