Page 61 of The Forty-Year-Old Virgin Witch

Twenty Four

Aggie

Karl bit down, and my body tensed in pain. As soon as the sting of the bite cleared, a wonderful numbness spread from the wound to the rest of my body. My arms went limp, and I felt like I was floating as I relaxed completely against Luka. I smiled impishly up at him, but he merely scoffed and looked away.

The sound that left Karl’s throat as he fed from me curled my toes and sent a hot bolt of desire straight to my core. Karl’s hands fumbled under my tank top, and I arched up to meet him. I knew a moment of breathless giddiness as his hardness pressed against me, then there was only air where Karl’s body had been.

I blinked, wincing at the pain in my neck as clarity returned to me. Luka had Karl pinned to the floor, his wolf teeth at his throat. Karl reached up with his hands and started to choke the massive wolf, his eyes still tinted red, but mostly purple as the blue fought its way back.

“Stop it!” I screamed.

Karl threw the wolf from him, and Luka shifted back and pointed an accusing finger.

“HE ignored the deal. That was not control!”

Closing his eyes, Karl leaned his head back against a tree. Panic was rising in Luka’s eyes, and it must have been a delayed reaction. I reached out my arms to him, and he picked me up.

“Thank you,” I whispered. “You’re right.”

His heart pounded against his chest, and I realized he must have been terrified to take on Karl, knowing he would lose.

I motioned for us all to return inside. I allowed Luka to assist me to the chair across from Quinn at my tiny wooden table, and he dragged over an old trunk to sit next to me. As I glanced down at the rough wood with its many stains and scratches, I couldn’t help but remember Karl patiently teaching Luka how to chop vegetables, or the rage I’d felt when they’d first stumbled into my home.

How things can change….

I glanced at Luka, whose eyes were gold and tinged with arousal. The jolt of need that went through me would have to wait for later.

“Karl, come here. We all need to discuss this like adults.”

I winced at the fang marks on my neck, and Karl was there an instant later, licking them closed. I sighed when his tongue met my skin, and then pulled him into a kiss. The coppery tang of my blood was fresh on his lips, and his hands gripped my shoulders hard.

“Sit.”

I pulled away, and he fell back into the last seat. Looking around at them all, it was like some sad council of our own. I wouldn’t laugh though. They’d think I’d finally lost it. Instead, I turned to Quinn.

“Are the druids likely to realize the witch was attacked by a vampyre? What happens if they know it’s Karl?”

Quinn considered, one hand running through his brown hair and making it stick up wildly in places. “Likely not. If he’s been found to attack another supernatural, the council will be involved. They will hold him as a prisoner until trial.”

My face must have paled because everyone rushed to reassure me.

“No one knows it’s him. I healed the fang marks before anyone got there,” Quinn said.

Silence reigned in the room.

“But … why?” I demanded. Quinn never did anything without something in return for himself.

He looked away, the tips of his ears red. “I … I might c-care about you.”

I tensed, and Luka’s head whipped around to stare at the warlock.

Quinn said he cared for me. Well, he said he might care for me, which I appreciated a hell of a lot more because it was honest, wasn’t it? That was the scary part—Quinn was never honest when it didn’t suit him. Sarcastic and insufferable? To a fault. But honest?

“You hated me.” I insisted.

“You were playing hard to get,” he shot back.

“You ruined my stores!”

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