Savannah snorted softly. “The three of us saw you standing over the bodies of the hikers and consuming their flesh. We don't need you to admit to anything. And as you said, your fate will be the electric chair, regardless of what you do or don't say here."
"Then what does it matter?"
It didn't matter, because the hunger in the other woman's eyes, the sudden sharpness of her breathing, gave Savannah the answer. This was bloodlust. She squeezed her hand, making the blood run faster.
"Imagine it,” she continued softly. “Your home until you die will be ten feet of concrete and bars. No wind to ruffle your coat. No sunlight to warm your skin. No earth under your paws."
She paused again. The hunger was sharper, Candy's expression more avid, more haunted.
"No prey to hunt and bring down. No flesh to rend. No blood to lap fresh and warm from the body.” That last bit was a guess, but a fairly safe one. Candy had to be the one doing it, since it was the only real difference from the Rosehall murders.
So how had they known all the details in the first place? Whether or not she was Jontee's kid, the fact was, she hadn't been at Rosehall. So who'd told her? That's what she had to uncover here. That, and whether or not Cade was right and Nelle was involved.
A growl rumbled up Candy's throat. “I'd rather be dead."
"That can be arranged. Easily."
Candy snarled, but the hunger in her eyes was giving way to desperation. “You wouldn't. You were always such a goody two-shoes."
She raised an eyebrow and raised a hand so that Candy could see the drops of blood falling from her palm. The other woman's gaze followed it avidly, her mouth open, her breath little more than savage pants. Savannah reached out telepathically. The shields were still there, still strong.
Blood wasn't going to be enough. She was going to need help with this.
"And how would you know something like that?” she asked, at the same time reaching out mentally to her sister. Neva?
Still here at the mansion and still bored shitless. What can I do for you?
Can't explain why, but I need to siphon your physic abilities. Neva had extremely strong empathic skills, and when combined with the pack's naturally strong telepathic skills, it was a formidable weapon—one that had saved both their lives in the past.
Sure. Can I help?
No. I'm questioning a suspect, and I want you out of it in case it goes belly up.
You're as overprotective as my damn mate.
Hey, I want to be there when my nephews are born. I don't want labor being induced through overexertion.
No chance of that, Neva grumbled. I can't even take a walk without someone in this damn place fussing over me. She hesitated. Okay. I'm comfortable. Take what you need anytime.
Ta, Sis. She reached deeper, forming a connection between Neva and her so that she could use the empathic skills any time she desired. She studied Candy for a moment longer, and then she said aloud, “You and I had never met before yesterday, and you haven't been in Ripple Creek very long. So why would you think I'm a goody two-shoes?"
Candy flashed a bloody smile. “I hear things."
"From whom?” She raised her hand and slowly licked at the blood dripping from her palm. She'd never enjoyed the taste of blood, which is why she avoided hunting in wolf form. But she'd sucked at cuts to clean them enough times not to blanch at the taste now.
Candy's nostrils flared and the craving in her eyes became fierce. The hunger in the air became a fire of need that burned across Savannah's borrowed empathic senses, like the electricity touching the air before a storm.
She reached out empathetically, just enough to gather the emotions burning through the air and gently thrust them Candy's way—soaking her, drowning her, in her own passions and fears.
And under the flood, Candy's shields began to weaken. They were still extremely strong, but this was definitely working.
She raised her hand again. “Smell the blood, Candy. Smell the richness of it. Imagine never being able to taste it again."
The other woman snarled, her form quivering, changing to something more than human but less than wolf. The proximity of the silver was preventing the full change. Savannah just hoped that it would also prevent Candy from breaking out, because if that happened when she was in the middle of mind reading, she'd be dead meat.
Now, Cade said, even as she gathered her psychic forces.
She hit the other wolf as hard as she could. Hit her with not only the emotions that burned through the air, but reached deep within herself, gathering all the anger and all the horror that had been building since that first murder, weeks ago. Gathered, too, the soul-deep loneliness that had haunted her since Rosehall, a loneliness that been buried so deep it had only come out in her dreams. She mixed it with the despair that burned in her now—an inner, secret despair born of the fear that her time here with Cade was destined to be as short as it had been at Rosehall. All of that was flung at Candy, and the force of the emotive blow hit like a punch to the chin, smashing Candy backwards, making her stagger and gasp, as her head cracked hard against the rear of the cell. In that precise moment of confusion and dazedness, Savannah raided Candy's mind.