Moon Witch

Betrayal

The man with the gun has been monitoring Maggie's house day in and day out since she first discovered him two weeks ago. Her familiar is ever vigilant, watching the armed trespasser's every last move. She strokes the bird's spine, following his gaze to the man across the driveway. She's so engrossed in watching him, she doesn't hear Julien come in from the garage.

"Is he still there?" Her husband asks. Maggie nearly jumps out of her skin at the sound of Julien's voice so close.

"Yeah," Maggie turns around to face her husband. There's dirty oil smeared over his right cheek and his hands are stained with the same, "Every once in a while he pulls out a walkie-talkie and says something into it. I don't know who he is, but I don't trust him."

"This is why I think you should go into hiding. What if he's a hunter?" Julien walks over to the sink to wash his hands and face. He lets the water grow warm before pumping out a generous amount of soap into his palm.

"If he were a hunter he would have struck by now. Hunters aren't going to wait for All Hallows to gun us down. They're natural born killers, the need to slaughter runs through their veins the moment they're born," Maggie points out, handing Julien a towel to dry himself.

"He could be waiting for a moment of weakness on our part. Maybe he's waiting for when you're alone and outside or something," His voice is muffled briefly by the towel as he dries his face. Maggie takes the towel and kisses his stubbly cheek.

"He's had many an opportunity for that, Jule. Between you going to work during the week and me making spell and potion deliveries, he's had ample time to strike," Despite her logic, she still feels uneasy about the man with the gun, and she knows Julien does too, "Still, to make you feel a little better, I put a protection spell on all the doors and windows. Men with guns are no match for a witch and her magic."

"Not according to your coven," Julien grumbles, crossing his arms.

"They're wrong," Maggie says with a certain finality that sends a shiver down Julien's spine.

"What if they're not? What then?" He's getting angry; frustrated, "Maggie, I could lose you."

"Then let me be lost," She snaps, "If I'm going to die, at least I'll die defending what I believe in instead of dying a coward." She turns away from her husband, one foot over the threshold into the hallway, the other hesitant to cross over.

"Maybe being a martyr isn't worth is, Margot. Did you even once think of that? Think of how devastated your mom and dad would be. How would your sister feel? Your nieces?" He delivers the blow, a low one by his standards, and he knows he should not have. Maggie turns back towards him, eyes blazing.

"I'm not going into hiding, nothing is going to happen. And if it does, I'll be fine. I understand how upset everyone would be, believe me, I do. But this isn't their decision and it's not yours either. None of you own me, and neither does the belief that I'm going to be hunted on All Hallows. So you either get your head out of the Elder's ideas and join me, or you can sleep out in that stupid car of yours tonight. My mind isn't changing," She turns back towards the hallway on the final word, stomping down to her bedroom and slamming the door behind her. Julien stares dumbfounded after her, his head a whirlwind. He wants to go to her and apologize, but the other part of him, the part screaming at him to get her into hiding, keeps him rooted to the linoleum.

In the bedroom, Maggie packs a bag for Julien, knowing full well he'll spend the night in his car before thinking otherwise. She throws a thick blanket and a pillow in the canvas bag, along with a pair of flannel pajamas before leaving it outside the bedroom door, which she locks as soon as she shuts it behind her. After a handful of heartbeats, she hears him in the hallway, lingering by the door, debating what to say next no doubt. She sits on the bed, arms crossed, waiting.

"Maggie..." His voice is soft from the other side of the door. Maggie doesn't budge, though the tug in her chest wants her to, "Maggie, I'm sorry. Please unlock the door."

"Sorry won't cut it this time, Buster," She stays planted firmly on the bed, not moving a single muscle.

"Mags, please. Open the door," Julien pleads. Maggie hears a soft thud from the other side and she knows he's rested his head against the door. A common thing for him to do when they fight. It's his way of showing defeat. He knows he can't win this. Maggie softens, getting up from the bed and going to the door. And there he stands, the beautifully scruffy boy with tear stained cheeks and red-rimmed eyes.

"Have you given up, or are you going to throw more flawed logic my way?" She jabs. Julien shakes his head.

"No. I'm sorry, Maggie. I really am," His voice is hoarse. He holds the bag Maggie packed for him in one hand, the other propping him up against the door frame. He looks so frail to her. Something isn't right.

"Julien? Are you alright?" She asks, going to him. He shakes his head again, bangs falling into his eyes, and it's then Maggie sees the looming figure behind her husband. Maggie gasps, hurrying to slam the bedroom door, but Julien's body is in the way.

"I had to, Maggie. Please, believe me. I had to," He sobs. Maggie sees the barrel of the gun pressed against the back of Julien's head, "I love you so much, Maggie."

"Jule..." She reaches out to touch his face but stops short when the free hand of the man with the gun juts out and grabs her wrist.

"You're coming with me, witch," He growls, the deep baritone of his voice shaking the young witch to her very core. He tugs her arm, yanking her through the bedroom door frame and knocking Julien to the side.

"What do you want with me?" She demands as the man drags her through her house. His grip on her thin wrist tightens. He stops in his tracks and turns to her.

"If you keep your mouth shut, you'll find out. C'mere," He tugs her close, using his free hand to pull a black canvas bag out of his back pocket, "You've already seen too much, witch." He puts the bag over her head and ties it around her neck. She stumbles as he starts walking again, and despite her best efforts, she can't break free of his grasp.