Page 21 of The Forty-Year-Old Virgin Witch

Nine

Aggie

I woke slowly, the smell of something wonderful coaxing me out of my slumber. Damon stretched against me and gave a warning growl into my ear. My eyes shot open, remembering the last few hours.

“Mother above, what time is it?”

“Ow! What the fuck?”

I twisted to see two supernaturals in my kitchen, fussing over vegetables. Karl blushed and pointed at my hearth, which was roaring with a fire I certainly hadn’t started.

“We … we made you soup.”

I didn’t even know how to process that.

“You passed out. We were worried, so—”

Indignant rage was a more comfortable emotion than confusion and terror, so it was an easy choice.

“FROM TRYING TO SET WARDS AGAINST YOU.”

They looked a little hurt, which bothered me for some reason.

“We will leave if you want,” Luka offered, looking like a kicked puppy. Karl snapped his head to stare at him, not wanting to give up so easily. Then Luka sighed, dropping his shoulders as he slid down onto the floor. Was he bowing to me?

Karl's jaw dropped, then he rushed to make his own platitudes. “I-If you truly don’t want me around…I will also go,” Karl added.

What the fuck was going on? I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed, rubbing my face. Perhaps this was all some sort of weird dream brought on by bad herbs. Damon dug his claws into my thigh, though I pretended not to notice. I watched him cut a cocky path through Karl and Luka’s legs, rationalizing that if they’d wanted to hurt me, Damon certainly wouldn’t have warmed up to them. My stomach rumbled, making my decision for me.

“What kind of soup?” I asked.

Luka elbowed Karl out of the way to get me a bowl. Scuffling ensued. A small banging noise drew my attention, and I tried to figure out where it was coming from. I threw the covers over my legs and walked to the wardrobe.

“Don’t!”

The panic in Karl’s voice would have been amusing if he hadn’t been a freaking vampyre. My hand froze in the act of reaching for the latch. My gaze flicked to Luka, who frantically shook his head.

BANG.

I jumped back, alarmed. Damon jumped in front of me, hissing at the cupboard. Now I was concerned.

“What did you idiots do?”

Luka pulled me behind him as he, Karl, and Damon stood between me and the cupboard. I wanted to laugh at such a ridiculous situation, but I also wanted to cry. When was the last time anyone had tried to protect me?

“There’s a man in your cupboard,” Luka provided helpfully. He stood with his muscles tensed, while Karl glared at the cupboard as if it had personally offended him. My eyes nearly bugged out of my head.

“A man? WHY IS THERE A MAN IN MY CUPBOARD?”

The wooden cabinet exploded, and I screamed as my rarer herbs and flowers rained down on my head in shredded clumps. Luka threw himself over me, shielding my body from the flying bits of wood and other debris. I heard Karl fighting with whoever had been inside the cupboard, and my small cottage was quickly in danger of being destroyed amidst their growls and grunts.

“OW! That’s it!”

With a sickening THUD, the fight ended with Karl pinning the strange man down to a chair, his hand at the man’s throat.

Now there was a thirdgorgeous man in my cottage, and I repressed the urge to giggle at my sudden ability to summon them out of midair. Perhaps I had more siren blood than witch? I suppressed the urge to laugh manically.

“Let me up.”

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