"Because you haven't any psychic strength."
Savannah raised her eyebrows as she knelt near the bed. No psychic strength? When she came from the golden pack? “And you won't tell her I have, will you?” She made it an order and enforced it, not only blocking the knowledge from anyone who might make psychic contact with Lonny, but also preventing her from talking to anyone else about it.
"Why on earth would you think something like that?” she asked, once she was done.
Lonny didn't answer immediately, so Savannah applied a little more psychic pressure. Lonny cursed, and sweat broke out across her brow. “Jontee told Jina. And she checked herself."
Jontee told Jina? How, when Jina had never been anywhere near Rosehall? Then it clicked. Jina—Anni—was the sister Jontee had once mentioned. The sister he'd been psychically in contact with; the sister who was going to make everything right.
"When?” Certainly it was something she'd never felt. And she would have, if Anni had tried to probe her psychically.
"She didn't have to test. She could read your day to day thoughts with ease."
Savannah snorted. Obviously, Anni didn't know much about the golden pack, or she would have realized that most them didn't bother keeping full shields up unless they were actually with another wolf from the pack.
She pulled up the bed sheets, looked underneath, and discovered what Lonny had been doing—planting another bomb. It didn't look as if it had been set, but what she knew about bombs could have been noted on her fingertip. Nor did she trust Lonny enough to force her to take it out. Any woman that attacked rather than run was mad enough to set off a bomb and kill them both.
She let the cover drop back down. “Why blow up IIS officers? That'll only bring on the wrath of the organization."
Lonny shrugged. “No witnesses, no tales, no trails."
Her words came out slightly slurred, and Savannah glanced around. Lonny was struggling to keep her eyes open. Obviously the two darts were finally taking affect. She'd better get her to the car, or she'd end up having to carry her.
"Get up,” she ordered.
As Lonny struggled upright, Savannah placed a quick call to Anton to warn him about the bomb.
"Bastards,” he said, voice edged with a mix of tiredness and anger. “We're just about finished here. Ronan will report for us, if that's okay. Trista and I need to eat after we take care of that bomb.” He hesitated. “You heard from the boss?"
"No.” And the reminder that she hadn't caused concern to spear through her heart again. Something was very wrong.
"I'll call him, then.” He hesitated again, and then added, “It might be best if you keep someone with you until Cade returns. I don't like the feel of things right now."
That made two of them. “I will."
She hung up and marched Lonny to her truck. The blonde was all but asleep on her feet by the time they'd gotten there, forcing Savannah to lift her up and buckle her in. But at least it meant she could release her grip on Lonny's mind.
Or most of it, any way. She still kept a mental finger on the pulse, so to speak, just in case Anni or Candy tried to make contact with Lonny. She jumped into driver's seat and headed for the Ranger's Station. Ronan pulled up as she did. He looked as bad as she'd ever seen him, his clothes disheveled and face drawn.
"You look like shit,” she said softly, as she climbed out of her truck.
He scrubbed a hand through his damp, dirt-caked hair. “That's because I feel like shit.” He shook his head, and his gaze, when it met hers, was haunted. “I never, ever, want to see something like that again. Never want to feel anything like that again."
Oh God. She'd forgotten he could sometimes sense lingering emotions in the air, even though he wasn't actually empathic.
"I'm sorry,” she whispered, and hugged him.
He held her so tightly it felt as if he was squeezing the breath from her lungs, but there was nothing sexual in it. Just one close friend taking much needed comfort from another.
After a few minutes, he blew out a breath and pulled back. “Thanks,” he said softly, then his gaze went past her. “Who's that in the truck?"
"Lonny.” She studied him for a moment, seeing tension in the set of his shoulders. The muscle ticking near his jaw. He was controlling the horror, but only just. “You going to be all right tonight?"
"Yeah. After a drink or two.” He shrugged. “You want a hand getting her inside?"
"Yes.” She hesitated. “You sure you don't want me to fudge your memories enough for you to sleep?"
He smiled and lightly touched her cheek. “Thanks, but I'm okay. Really,” he added, when she lifted a disbelieving eyebrow. “Let's get that woman into a cell with her sister."