Page 12 of The Forty-Year-Old Virgin Witch

“I was going to restock soon.”

I didn’t have the energy to fight anyone today, and I was hungry and out of food. Maybe I didn’t have to be a total bitch to everyone who came my way. I sighed and wordlessly took the satchel that Karl handed to me, trying not to linger over the cool touch of his hands. They were long and slender, like a pianist’s. I glanced up to find his bright blue eyes full of reproach.

“It is good I’m here. Who knows what would become of you? No food, weak wards—”

I snatched my hand back, even as he hustled me out the door.

“My wards are not weak.”

Karl tutted and gently nudged me down the front path. “I could have broken them easily without your familiar’s permission, and I am only fifty yearsundead. Imagine if someone actually wanted to break in?”

Icy fear gripped my heart and squeezed. What?

“Ach, I’ve upset you. That wasn’t my intent. I don’t mean to imply you are weak, but I am concerned.”

So was I. That was twice now I had drained myself to feed the wards, and a vampyre of half a century could have easily broken them? That wasn’t good. That wasn’t safe. My mother’s voice whispered in my ear, her tone scathing.

If you would just accept your inheritance—

I practically flew down the sidewalk, as if my feet could outrun my thoughts. Karl frowned and adjusted his pace.

“I am sorry if I’ve—”

I stopped, and he nimbly dodged around me. If punching his face broke my hand, running into him would likely give me a concussion and broken ribs.

“It isn’t you. It’s just…” I trailed off, unable to explain the emptiness that plagued me.

Without saying anything, he took my arm, and I let him, enjoying the moment as he tucked it securely against him. He took of down the path at a lesiurely stroll.

It was odd being able to just be led somewhere and have the ability to let my mind wander. Karl’s arm was cool and firm against mine, and I felt myself blushing for no reason at all. I tried desperately to think of something to say, then realized it didn’t seem to matter.

We walked into town in relative silence, the curious looks from other villagers trailing our path. I was infamous for my preference for a quiet life of solitude, so seeing a handsome man on my arm had everyone salivating with curiosity.

“Aggie! Who is this young man?”

Donna owned the nearby florist’s shop and was the closest thing I had to competition in the village. She wasn’t known as much for her flowers as she was for her blonde hair and boob job, as well as the trail of ex-husbands she left in her wake. Her sharp eyes took in Karl’s body greedily, and I felt him flinch at her hungry look. A rare sense of camaraderie rose within me, and I patted the top of his hand.

Young man? I glanced over at him, not sure where that had come from. He didn’t look old by any means, but hardly young. Like me, I supposed.

“This my new … friend. He’s taking me to lunch.”

For some reason my voice was proud, and I quickly tugged him along behind me. A stupid smile lit Karl’s face at my proclamation, even as Donna’s lip curled in a sneer. I kept my determined pace down the road, not stopping until we made it to the small cafe.

I stopped before a quaint metal table for two, and Karl pulled out my chair for me. I blushed again and quickly sat, not used to such casual gestures of chivalry. As he sat down, he opened the menu and perused it seriously. Now that I thought of it, almost everything he did was serious.

“Is Aggie a family name?”

I looked up from the menu, surprised. Now that I could properly see in the sunlight, his eyes weren’t only blue. A small hint of red played around the edges of his pupil, blending into a short ring of purple before yielding to the rest of the sapphire color.

“Unfortunately.” I answered. “All witches in the family have to have traditional names. At least ‘Agatha’ can be shortened to something more palatable.”

He nodded, and the server came. After putting in an order for some tea and sandwiches, he leaned forward across the table. I prayed he wouldn’t ask anything else about my family, so I opened my mouth first.

“You’re alone. Don’t vampyres usually live in clans?”

I blurted out the first thing I could think of, and his eyes widened before he sat back in his chair.

“It depends. Most do, but usually so the Elder who created them can keep an eye on them. My Elder prefers solitude, but he finds it convenient to have me around to run errands, even if they are just to the local pub. I am the youngest in our clan, so for now it is my duty. If he ever turns someone else, it will be that person’s job.”

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