Page 31 of The Forty-Year-Old Virgin Witch

“My bloodline is old … one of the original seven.”

Karl’s face went paler than normal, a feat I didn’t even realize was possible. That alone was enough to alarm Luka.

“Alright, you’re going to have to bring me up to speed on witchy lore,” Luka said. “What does that mean?”

Karl smacked a hand over his face.

“The original seven witch covens,” I said. “Scattered throughout the world, there is one on each major continent. All other witches and covens are distantly related to them, but to be able to claim direct ancestry is difficult. Bloodlines and breeding are tightly controlled.”

Karl shot me a worried look, but Luka was even more confused.

“I thought you were American.”

I understood his trouble; sometimes I even struggled to keep my head around it all.

“Yes, but my branch immigrated from France when the colonies were a thing. Something about a power struggle…. I wasn’t really paying attention. Technically I’m a French American, living in England.”

Luka was still trying to catch up. “What do you mean ‘bloodlines and breeding are strictly controlled’?”

I looked away, my hands digging into the muscles in Damon’s shoulders as I massaged his back. He sent back a wave of reassurance, letting me know it was ok to share my secret with them.

“You’ve probably figured out by now that I ran away from my coven and my inheritance.”

Karl nodded, and Luka blew air out of his nose. Karl quickly explained how witch powers worked, and Luka blushed when he looked at me. It warmed my soul that Luka hadn't known anything about it—that was a heavy point in his favor.

“When your magick touched me in the pub, I didn’t realize… It just called to me. I’ve never smelled another witch before to know if you were a virgin or not. I thought that was just your smell."

Hope swelled up in my chest at the possibility that at least Luka had truly been interested in me and not a power boost.

“Inheritance rituals are tightly controlled through magickal contracts and sometimes blood oaths." I began again. "My mother bid me out not long after I was born, securing a contract that I’m told recorded a record high at eleven million dollars.”

Luka’s jaw dropped toward the floor, and Karl’s brow furrowed.

“Just who are you?” Karl asked softly. I shook my head.

“No one more important than any other daughter born to the coven that year, I assure you.” Karl looked unconvinced, but I didn’t have any more information for him. So I continued.

“Regardless, I only met the winner a few times. Once when I was five, at thirteen, and then again at twenty a month before the ritual.”

I closed my eyes, willing myself to remain calm.

“I was too young before to know what it meant, but I always felt uncomfortable around him. When I was twenty, I knew immediately why. His name is Seth, and he’s an incubus.”

Karl inhaled sharply through his nose, understanding immediately. Then his eyes widened.

“Wait, not that Seth? Son of Samael? Oh fuck.”

I felt such instant relief that he knew, that he understood what no one else in my coven had given a shit about. I suppressed the urge to throw my arms around him and sob.

“Oh come on. How do you know literally everything?”

Luka scowled, crossing his hands over his chest.

Karl scoffed. “As a vampyre, information is power. I know everything about everyone.” He frowned. “Or at least, I try to. It’s a good strategy to stay alive around unpredictable Elders when you can happily chat about everyone in their lineage.”

I smiled slightly at imagining that—Karl talking his way out of any situation with a polite bow.

“So this Seth guy is bad news?” Luka clarified.

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