“Get him,” Donovan ordered before taking hold of my jacket a second time and dragging me, quite literally, into the house. Once again, the prince and Mafioso followed. We stumbled past broken furniture toward an office at the back. He slammed the door, but the two men following just opened it and let themselves in. I hoped I hadn’t underestimated Donovan. He was a good guy, but even seemingly good guys could have an uncontrollable temper underneath. Damned testosterone.

He shoved me into a chair, then started pacing. “Blake?” he said from between clenched teeth. “It was Blake?” He was actually directing his question to his seconds in command. Then he turned back to me. With an agility I hadn’t expected, he was in front of me at once, both hands on the arms of the chair around me, his face barely an inch from my own. “How did you know?”

“It’s difficult to explain,” I answered, my voice airy.

“You have one chance. Do you know him?”

“No. Please sit down.”

He jostled the chair to get my attention. “Do you have any idea how much trouble you’re in right now?”

I swallowed hard. Shaking in my Dolce & Gabbanas, I glanced over at the prince. He seemed to feel bad for me, but I doubted he would go against his leader. Mafioso might, though. He seemed a bit less reverent.

“Donovan, if you’ll just sit down, I’ll explain.”

He crouched before me, keeping his hands locked on the chair. That was as good as I was going to get.

“I can feel things,” I said, trying to take deep, calming breaths. “I … know things by assessing the emotions radiating off people and analyzing their auras.”

“Don’t give me that New Age shit.”

“It’s not New Age. It’s old, actually. Very, very old.”

His brows drew together, wondering how much he should believe.

“You know how I can talk to Rocket?” I glanced at all three of them for validation. Mafioso shrugged. “It’s kind of like that. I sense things other people don’t. Like right now.” I looked back at him, a wrenching kind of sorrow making my heart heavy. “I can sense the pain that is completely consuming you. Those dogs were everything to you, and that guy, Blake, took that away.” I put my palm on his jaw. “Your pain is so strong, I can barely breathe under the weight of it.”

He leaned back a little, eyeing me warily, and I dropped my hand.

“It’s like you’re drowning in it, and I knew if you got ahold of the guy responsible for that kind of pain, you’d probably kill him.”

He sat back on his heels and dropped one arm.

“You would go to prison for a very long time, and you’re a good person, Donovan. I can feel that, too, sense it, just like when I sense Rocket’s presence.”

My phone rang then, and I waited for a nod of approval from Donovan before answering. I fished it out of my jacket pocket but didn’t recognize the number. “This is Charley,” I said as Donovan got up and started pacing again.

“What the f**k is going on?”

“Garrett? Where are you?”

“At a convenience store. Where the f**k are you?” he asked, clearly upset. “What the hell is going on?”

“Is that guy still with you?” I asked, glancing underneath my lashes at Donovan.

“Hell no.”

Startled, I asked, “Where is he?”

Donovan stilled.

“He jumped out at a f**king stop sign. What the f**k was I supposed to do?”

Garrett seemed upset. He rarely used the word f**k that many times in a row. He usually staggered it more, used it sparingly. Surely he realized the act of incorporating the word into his speech that often lessened its impact, thereby systematically deteriorating its overall efficacy.

“Okay, you’re right, I’m sorry. Just stay there. I’m fine.”

“Are you still mingling with the out crowd?”

“Um, yes.”

“Then f**k that. I’ll be there in two.”

“Swopes. I totally have this.”

“You mean when they dragged you into the house by the collar?” he asked, clearly agitated. “Did you have that?”

“I’m telling you,” I said, leveling out my voice, “I’m good.”

“Damn it, Charles.”

“Garrett, holy cow.” Without waiting for another argument, I closed my phone.

“Where is he?” Donovan asked.

“He’s on his way back.” I knew my order would have done no good.

“With Blake?”

“No. He jumped out at a stop sign,” I said reluctantly. I expected outrage, curses, flying chairs. What I got was a smile.

He glanced around at the gang. “He’s ours.”

Well, probably the only good I did was to prolong Blake’s torture. Now they were angry and prepared. Wonderful. Maybe I was going to be indirectly responsible for his death. Maybe Blake the dog killer would be my guardian. I hoped not. I didn’t particularly want a guardian who’d been a dog killer in his previous life. Why would anybody do something like that?

Then I realized Donovan was still smiling at me, a seductive patience shining in his eyes. “Now, about that kiss.”

“Oh,” I said, stumbling to my feet with an utterly inane giggle. I started to back out, but the prince blocked my path. The traitor.

Donovan closed the distance between us and placed his fingers under my chin. “That was a pretty brave thing you did. Ultimately a complete waste of everyone’s time and energy, but brave.” He ran his thumb from my bottom lip down my chin and back up again. “How do you do what you do?”