Page 46 of The Forty-Year-Old Virgin Witch

Seventeen

Aggie

We didn’t mention any of it again for days. I knew Karl was likely planning how to get around the coven’s impending vist—he was good at that, but he also mentioned a need to go feed backat his Elder’s. I remembered he’d said his Elder kept blood bags, so I took comfort in the fact that my Karl didn’t actually hunt people. He’d left earlier in the morning, promising to be back by nightfall. He’d also threatened to beat Luka into a pulp if anything happened to me, but Luka seemed to expect that, only grinning mildly and giving Karl a mock salute.

The weather took a sudden hot turn, turning the normally cheerful village into a humid, grumbling town full of sweating geriatrics. I stalked through town with my orders regardless, sweat soaking through my clothes as I tugged my wagon behind me. I normally wore clothes that were comfortable and flowing, but today I’d gone with compression shorts and a tank top, simply to try and survive the heat. I wasn’t self-conscious by any means, but I also wasn’t exactly in the prime of my life either. At least with my hair up in a high bun, the telling streak of grayin the front of my hair was hidden. If I had my powers, I wouldn’t be aging quite so noticeably. Not that my men seemed to mind.

Just call me the hot mess express.

I turned onto Locust St., hoping that Mr. White would at least offer me some lemonade once I’d delivered his lung tonic. It was obvious he was in the last stages of lung cancer, but the stubborn mule refused to see a doctor. My tonic wouldn’t work forever, but I was happy to give him some relief while I could.

I rounded the corner, my eyes automatically shifting past Donna’s shop like they always did, and searched for Mr. White’s yellow shutters. I stopped abruptly, my eyes swinging back to the shop.

“What the—”

Quinn and Donna sat outside her shop, chatting away and sharing a coffee. Rage rose in my veins as I thought of Quinn’s threat to turn me in, but just as quickly it evaporated, leaving me with an empty, black hole in my chest. Quinn leaned in close to Donna’s ear, and then the blonde threw her head back, laughing hysterically. I wanted to wrap my hands around the column of her pale throat and squeeze.

I picked up my pace, looking away from the sickening sight. Why did I care anyway? I didn’t care. I was just angry he’d threatened me and was now still apparently hanging around the village. Stupid warlock.

Luka would take care of it. Luka would hunt him down and beat him senseless. My pulse raced, and my face flushed at the thought of the two men fighting.

Over me.

Fuck, this heat was doing a number on me.

Mr. White did in fact have lemonade, and he looked better than I’d ever seen him. The sight buoyed my fragile heart, and I pushed aside any thoughts of Quinn. It wasn’t like I was jealous. That would be ridiculous. To be jealous, that would mean I would actually have to care about him—

Oh fuck.

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