“What is going on here?” Ronan needed answers, and maybe he’d finally get them. He turned to his tight-lipped mate. “Naya?”
“Our business is none of yours, vampire,” Santi said with a sneer. In an urgent whisper he said to Naya, “We know nothing about them. Him. He could be creating the mapinguari for all you know, and you’re keeping him in your house?”
Naya’s jaw dropped as though words failed her. Ronan took a step toward her and she held up a staying hand.
“Look at him!” Santi said forcefully, throwing his open palm in Ronan’s direction. “He’s ragged and bloodied. Someone had him cuffed and bound, for the love of the gods!”
“I cuffed and bound him, Santi.” Naya’s tight-lipped response nearly coaxed a smile to Ronan’s face. “I found him last night after I dropped off the repo with you.”
“And you decided to keep him?” Santi replied in an incredulous burst. “This is beyond ill-advised, Naya. It’s damned dangerous. Do you have any regard for your own safety?”
Ronan might as well have been a stray mutt she’d found by the side of the road. “Naya’s safety is none of your concern, shifter.” Though Ronan had to agree that bringing a strange male back to her house showed a total lack of concern for her own well-being. Now that they’d found each other, he would make sure she’d not be so careless in the future.
Santi snorted. “Neither is it yours, bebedor de sangre. You are nothing to her.”
“Oh no?” Ronan’s gaze slid to Naya and her eyes grew round and wide. A deep blush colored her cheeks, and her jaw set with a warning expression that coaxed a smile to Ronan’s face. “Naya, would you like to tell your friend exactly what I am to you?”
A wave of emotion rushed at Ronan through their tether, and it didn’t fill him with anything even close to warm or fuzzy. In fact, he suspected that had it been in her scope of power, she would have incinerated him where he stood.
“Santi, I have this under control.” Naya ushered the male toward the front door. “Let me handle this my way, okay? If Paul asks, tell him I’ll start patrolling at full dark. And please, don’t say a word about any of this.”
She opened the door and Santi stood in the threshold. “Naya, this isn’t a good idea. At least let me—”
“My way, Santi. Promise me.”
“All right.” He gave Ronan one last threatening glare over Naya’s shoulder. “But only because I know you’re capable. If you don’t check in, I’m going to the elders.”
Naya let out an audible sigh of relief that reached out through their tether, filling Ronan with the same sense of relief. “Scout’s honor.” She held up two fingers before moving to close the door. “I’ll call you later.”
Santi’s golden gaze locked with Ronan’s. The male’s expression was pure menace as Naya slowly closed the door, shutting him out. Promised to one male, another beside himself with the need to protect her. It seemed Ronan’s mate had drawn quite the pair of admirers. How many more waited in the woodwork?
“Mapinguari?” What he really wanted to do was question Naya about the male, Santi. Who was he to her that he could grab her by the arm and haul her behind him? But the thought of talking about the shifter set Ronan’s fangs to throbbing in his gums. Discussing the creature she was supposed to be hunting seemed the safer course of questioning to take.
The term “mapinguari” was foreign to Ronan, and he thought he’d met everything that the supernatural world had to offer. Then again, he’d never come across anyone like Naya before, either. He’d met his fair share of witches. White witches who communed with nature, black ones who worshiped death. Humans who called themselves Wiccans and performed rituals in the hopes of manifesting a certain outcome. But he’d never in all of his centuries encountered a witch like Naya. She outshone them all.
“A demon,” Naya answered with a resigned sigh. “When magic infects a body that it’s not meant to reside in, it corrupts the host. Supernaturals generally know not to mess with magic that doesn’t belong to them, so it’s usually humans who get themselves into trouble. Trying to harness a power they can’t possibly comprehend. The magic attaches itself to the host, and from there it takes over. It manifests into something dark and unnatural. A creature hell-bent on destruction.”
Christ. “And you hunt these things?”
Naya kept her hand wrapped around the doorknob as though it anchored her. “I do. I can hear the magic. I can control it. I hunt down any creature that tries to run off with magic that doesn’t belong to it. I repossess the magic and kill the mapinguari.”