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“Agreed. So why don’t you treat me with the courtesy you would treat any other guest in your house?” Quinten said, holding the alpha’s stare once more.
The female witch stepped forward, hands on her full hips. “We really don’t have time for this. I want to get him upstairs and start looking over this collar. I don’t like what I’m getting off it just standing here.” She ran her dark eyes over the cat’s limp body, bright red lips pressed together.
Quinten glanced at her and then back at Rick before slowly unbuttoning his suit jacket and reaching inside to pull out the journal. He noticed that everyone but Darius tensed as his hand disappeared inside his jacket, but he ignored it, quietly amused that so many powerful people were so scared of him.
He held out the notebook to her. “This is what my witches have discovered and some of the theories they came up with. Hopefully, it’ll help.”
She looked more than a little surprised, staring down at it. “Thank you,” she said quickly and grabbed it from him. She tucked the journal under one arm and extended her right. “This will be incredibly useful. I’m Tashmica Torres, by the way.”
Quinten ignored the hard looks he was getting from Rick, Gabriel, and the blonde woman he assumed was Ericka and stepped forward, shaking it. “Pleasure, ma’am. Quinten Amato.”
She laughed. “Yes, I’ve heard.”
He didn’t respond, turning to the other witch, who had stepped forward as well.
“Keegan Toussaint.” He stuck out his hand, eyes hard.
Quinten had to wonder if he was just doing it to prove he wasn’t scared of Quinten. “I’ve heard of both of you, of course. It truly is an honor to meet you.”
Again with the looks of surprise.
Quinten ignored them, stepping back next to Darius and glancing expectantly at Rick. “Shall we proceed?”
Jaw tensing, Rick led the way up the stairs, Gabriel trailing behind their group.
They went down several hallways before stopping outside a bedroom with the door open. The bed inside was large and freshly made, the curtains open to show the bright blue sky outside.
“Lay him there,” Rick said, gesturing at the bed.
Darius rolled his eyes but did it, stepping back to plant himself just behind Quinten as soon as his arms were free.
Tashmica and Keegan ignored the bubbling testosterone, hurrying forward to take a closer look. Quinten could tell right away that they worked together often. They used a sort of shorthand with each other, barely saying more than a few words before the other either shook their head or nodded.
Tashmica opened the journal and started quickly reading through it, pointing out certain things to Keegan as she went or shaking her head and turning the page when she found something she didn’t agree with. It was fascinating but also frustrating as he was forced to stand there and do nothing but wait.
He knew they had to first figure out what kind of spell had been used to create the collar and then figure out how to break it. But there wasn’t much time. As he stood there, the jaguar’s face grew paler and paler.
He didn’t realize how much of his focus was on the man lying on the bed until he felt Darius shift next to him, and he glanced over and saw a pair of men, one large and white, the other a much smaller Latino.
“What have we got, Tash?” the big guy said, moving straight for the bed and not even acknowledging Quinten or Darius.
The smaller man gave them both wary glances but kept close to the other. An instinct honed from being surrounded by parahumans for most of his life told him the two were mated.
“We’re not quite sure yet,” Tashmica said. She had the notebook sitting on the bedside table, opened on a specific page, so that both of her hands could be free as she worked with Keegan. “We’re pretty sure it’s a variation of the Consumption Spell.”
“Jesus Christ,” Rick muttered, running a hand through his hair.
Quinten glanced at him, but when he didn’t say anything else, he turned back to the witches. “What does that mean?”
“It means the spell works like a parasite, feeding on his magic,” she said, not looking up.
“His magic?” Quinten asked.
“His jaguar,” Darius said lowly.
Well, that didn’t sound fucking good.
Quinten stepped up next to the bed. “But you can stop it by removing the collar, right? And then he’ll heal.”
