Page 2 of The Forty-Year-Old Virgin Witch

I tried to run through my herb stores in my head, wondering if I had something to take away the pain once I got home. My magick would eventually heal any breaks or fractures, but it was likely to be a painful week if I didn’t use magick directly.

“May I escort you home? It’s the least I can do. I feel somewhat responsible.”

I spun around, my good finger poking him hard in his chest. Sweet Mother, was every inch of this guy rock hard?

That caused an inappropriate image to surface in my mind, which I ruthlessly pushed down. I’d gone decades without dealing with men, and I certainly didn’t need to start now.

“Only somewhat responsible?”

The man blushed, and I shouldered past him. Or at least, I tried to. He was like a brick wall coated in steel and concrete.

“Karl.”

He held out the same hand that held the signet ring, and my nostrils flared. Suppressing the urge to make him move with magick, I pasted on a strained smile. The small wooden gate that led to the main road was only inches away.

“Karl?” I asked in a sweet voice.

“Yes?” He shifted, his posture hopeful.

“Move.”

Frowning, Karl stepped back,and I slipped past him and through the gate. I tossed up a small barrier behind him, a neat trick I'd learned when dealing with persistent men. The barrier was attached to the gate, so they always assumed the gate was the problem.

I purged him from my mind and continued the journey home. My cottage was on the edge of a small village in the south of England, only about a half mile or so from the pub. The village had a market, a bank, and a post office. For anything else, you had to travel by car to the next town over, which was positively metropolitan when compared to the village.

I paused at the tiny white gate that signaled the entrance of my cottage, my eyes running fondly over the moss-covered stones and bricks that made up my home.

I had purchased it after the death of its previous owner, who I was certain had also been a witch, even if no one else had known about it. It was more of a feeling I had, but the stones of the house just vibrated a safe, welcoming energy that I found irresistible.

I skipped the front door completely and made my way to the garden out back. I flung my shoes away, closing my eyes as my bare feet met the cool grass. The word ‘garden’ was a generous description of the untamed wilderness of the plants and herbs that had an order that made sense only to me. I tended to think my garden was a garden in the traditional Victorian sense of the word: a small patch of unbridled wilderness.

I took a few calming breaths and centered myself. My magick hummed happily under my skin, and the pain in my hand lessened by a few degrees. My mother’s face appeared in my head, chastising like it usually did.

If you would just come into your inheritance, you could have healed the damn thing already!

I gritted my teeth and shook the image away. Here among the earth and dirt, there were no boys. There was no coven, and there was no inheritance hanging over my head. Just me, and—

“What are you doing?”

My eyes shot open, and my connection with what little magick I had snapped. The pain in my hand doubled, and I groaned. Karl was standing on the outside of my property, eyeing the white fence warily. I stood and faced him.

“Am I going to have to call the bobbies?”

He grinned, flashing me a row of perfectly straight, white teeth. I blushed, not used to seeing men this handsome in the village, let alone leaning against my fence.

“I thought a witch like you would know better than to call the authorities on someone like me.”

I froze, panic shooting through my veins. How did he know? Scenarios flew through my head fast and furious—my coven had found me. They would take me home, force me into my inheritance, and I’d be forced to abandon my quiet life—

Stop. Maybe he didn’t know. Maybe it was just an expression, or he was insulting me. Men usually did that, didn’t they?

“Why did you call me a witch?”

I glared at him, using a speck of power to infuse confidence into my voice. He rolled his eyes and gestured in front of him.

“Mostly due to the witch ward you’ve set around the property. It’s quite good, but I’ve seen better. I figured it would be bad manners to break it down.”

Oh fuck. He knew.

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