Here to haunt me?

12. Thievery!

The question threw her off guard. What was in store for her? Impatience grew in Juliette's mind, and she couldn't contain herself any longer.

"What, what is in store for me?!" she spoke loudly. 

Agatha answered her question with a question. "Do you know what you are?" No, she thought, I don't. But she wouldn't give her that satisfaction.

Juliette didn't reply, and just waited grimly for the witch to continue. 

Agatha started, "My coven must not have been paying attention when they first tried to retrieve you. They didn't even notice." The woman grinned, knowing Juliette would keep asking questions until she gave her the full answer.

"Notice what." she asked reluctantly.

"Your magic. Its color." Agatha's expression surprised her, it was something she didn't recognize. It might have been awe. "Your power is extraordinary. And you are not even using it." The last part she spoke with resentment.

Extraordinary? Wasn't it the same as hers? "You're obviously dying to tell me something, so go ahead." 

Agatha breathed, "You're supposed to be a myth. A being capable of spontaneous creation. To no use." Juliette recalled the bar she created to knock the attackers off their feet. "This is chaos magic, Juliette. That makes you the Scarlet Witch."

The words reverberated through her. Was that what her magic was called? Chaos magic sounded about right. It drove her mad not to use it. Her friends shifted around her uncomfortably, and it shook Juliette that -- with all the commotion -- she had forgotten they were there.

But that title, it made Juliette nervous. "I am no witch."

The odious but charming woman just chuckled, which seemed to be her response to everything Juliette did. They all startled when Agatha conjured a book. Juliette's power jumped, found it repulsive. She wanted to go, get away from that thing. But a part of her was drawn to it, as if the book was calling her. She made sure not to show that on her face.

The dark book, looking as if it was carved from stone, opened when Agatha moved her hands from its side. The witch addressed her again. "Did you know there's an entire chapter devoted to you in the Darkhold? That's the book of the damned." 

Juliette's hart dropped in her stomach. 

"The Scarlet Witch is not born, she is forged. She has no coven, no need for incantation." 

Every word was her undoing, she didn't want to know this. These words, they were meant for her mother. She was born with these powers. Right?

"It is your destiny to destroy the world."

"No." Juliette immediately spoke. "No, no, I'm not what you say I am. That isn't me. That was my mom. I am not the Scarlet Witch." She hated the name, it didn't feel right at all.

Agatha replied, "A witch's blood is passed down, but something like this isn't. Your altercation must have been activated when you were younger, together with your already very impressive powers." Another slight laugh. "I would ask your mom, but she's not available -- isn't she, hon?"

In a flash, Peter leapt at the woman faster than Juliette could stop. He swung right, touched off the brick wall and went to strike the woman's side. She could feel his anger drooping off him, her power responded to it. It matched her own. The witch's snide comment on her mom's death was uncalled for. But she wasn't dumb enough to act on it, not against someone stronger than her.

But then again, she didn't really know how strong Peter was. 

Agatha blocked the blow just in time, and while the hero slammed into her glowing, solid purple shield, she still staggered backward.