Spoiling for a fight, who, me? While I might have been less likely to choke the living crap out of the arrogant snot with the bullhorn from hell, the surge of adrenaline he'd created-and the burgeoning can of whoop ass he'd cracked open with his little shouty stunt-still raced through my veins and not even Matt's gentle attempt to stop me could keep my Fleming redheaded temper in check this time.

The group stopped just short of trespassing, toeing the line at the gate ...