MARION WRIGHT

That was exactly what his mind had done. If he was conscious for the blood bath he had made he wouldn’t be who he was today. He would be broken and probably dead from suicide. Dealing with his shifting was a pain in the ass but as long as he wasn’t conscious when he killed he was better than if he was conscious. It wasn’t that much of an excuse but it was one he gave himself. 

“They deserved even worse. They like to see themselves so moral, so protective towards human race, but they are the real monster in this story. Especially, those ones, who choose their hunter side over their supernatural powers” She took another cigarette, but did not light it yet. 

Perhaps it might prove useful in the future as well, even if it turned out not to be necessary for the situation with Noah - his bar needed security, and his current attempts at recruiting a wolf from Mack’s pack hadn’t met with success. That was wolves for you, always clinging to their traditions and their packs.

It was enough for him to sit down at the table and not creep along like everything in this place was suspicious. Some things still were, he was in a witch’s house for gods sake, but it was better. He was still on edge when she spoke but he remained calm enough to hear her out- he owed her at least that much. Honestly he didn’t take offense when the witch spoke about the chocolates being poisoned. She was right to think of such a t hing when he almost killed her.

“Ah, we don’t. We don’t get sick I’m just sneezing because I have a very unusually sensitive nose. Especially when it comes to magic which is why I keep doing that. Sorry..” It helped when he was tracking a wtich or warlock but what good did it do when he sneezed and exposed his hiding spot? Maybe that’s why he’s so fast at running now. 

At the point of her hand he looked over and saw the plants hanging. There wasn’t even a flinch or twitch from him at the sight. It was like he was just viewing the daily weather. Heath turned back and gave a nod. How many times did it take for a werewolf to not be scared of wolfsbane? Being injected with it a thousand plus times too many is what. 

Her answer of hunters is what really made his shoulders sag in relief. “I’m sorry they did or tried to do that to you,” he said softly, meaning every word of it. Now is when he started to fidget again. “Because if you had high opinions about them then I wouldn’t be able to explain myself fully. But now that I know you hate them as much as I do then I can talk without having to worry about anything.” Heath took a deep breath and made himself look at the witch. “11 years ago I was captured by a group of hunters. On the chase I thought they were just going to kill me and that was it. How wrong I was..”

“You sneeze from magic?” Marion could not help but laugh. At least, she was sure that he will never be able to sneak up on her because of sneezing. But that meant he will keep sneezing all the time. This house was built from magic, the walls were breathing magic from all the protective magic put on this house, the rooms were full with magical books, items and plants. So the sneezing was here to say.

Hunters. Marion hold her breath while listening to guy’s story. She could never understand hunters who were witches, warlocks or any other supernatural beings. The very idea of hunter was to destroy everything that is not human in this world. But when they fought against their own kind, there was no moral there, it was just a wishes to kill. Humans did not deserve to be saved, they were immoral, and they did horrible things, physical and moral. What was the point to continue protecting them?  But witches experience with hunters was much more pleasant then. She had been captured, unlucky, twice, almost burned twice, but always she had found her way out. They never tried to imprison her, just to kill her as fast as possible.

Maybe this person was more forgiving that she seemed. He could have hopes that it was the case though she could be luring him in for a more subtle death or fight. Throwing magic right out in public wasn’t necessarily the best tactic since he knew that there were hunters in this town. If worst came to worst and they fought again, well, guess she wasn’t going to have that door much longer. 

Heath gave a quiet thanks and stepped in. Inside he went over to set the basket down on the table and didn’t take a seat anywhere. He just stood and looked around. The smell of dampened smoke filtered to his nose and a hint of nostalgia hit him. This place oddly reminded him of his old home. “Um.. I bet you want a better explanation for last night and why you’re probably feeling like shit,” he started, wording himself slowly as he looked at the witch. Even though he was in her home that didn’t mean he couldn’t be on guard and tense about it.

“I-” A sneeze erupted from him again and he excused himself as he sneezed again. Fucking magic. “Sorry. Just to confirm that I’m the werewolf from last night I know I almost broke your shoulder and gave you a really bad hit on the ribs. And your spell ruptured a part of my lung but it’s all healed now. Um. So you know how werewolves have to shift during the full moon? That happened to me, of course, but well..” 

He honestly tried to think of a way he could explain himself fully without revealing his whole past, but there was simply no way of doing that. “First, what’s your opinion on hunters?” It was a random question out of everything he said, but he needed to know. If she sided with them then he guessed that this witch wouldn’t be getting a proper explanation. If she was neutral about it he would still be iffy and ask more questions. If she hated them like he did then he could tell him with relatively settled nerves.

Marion closed the door and followed her guest to the kitchen, took the cigarettes and light another one. This was the deadliest way of meditation she had. “Sit, if you want” she showed him an example and sat on the table, took on of the chocolates from the basket and opened it. It did not look poisoned. Was it? Probably. But this kitchen could provide anti-dots for everything. “If it is poisoned…” she wanted to say something in funny lines, but then stopped. Like, Marion, hello, he fucking tried to kill you. The fact, that he looks cute and brought her food did not change the attempt to kill her, which took place just yesterday. Maybe she felt a bit guilty for fight. Like, she knew things about werewolves, knew that they did not change for fun, but still. The whole situation still felt unreal.  

With quite whisper Marion opened kitchen window, so smoke would go outside, a bit more at least. Tabaco smell was a rare guest in this house.

“Actually I did not wait for one. Like, usually people do not show up after trying to kill you” she said and tasted the chocolate. Tasted good. At least that.  “And I have been better, yes”.

He seemed to be too as much worried as she was, just her career as actresses helped to hide it, but he.. well, probably he did not attend any theatre lessons during high school. “Just a small correction. Spell, which I did not finish” She smiled and exhaled smoke circles. Even though her eyes were following the rings, she kept her guest in her eyesight. She had a feeling that this whole discussion should go somewhere, but where?

“Bless you. Since when werewolf can get a cold?” she asked casually, a bit annoyed by his sneezing, because every time he did it, witch twitched, like he was just about to attack. Unpleasant.

And then he asked does she know that werewolves change. For fucks sake, she was a witch, and just because she did not carry gun with silver bullets or did not cursed him, or did not make his veins to blow up, did not mean she is stupid. She pointed her finger to the left wall, where two nice bunches of wolf bane was hanging. “I know what werewolves are, please do not offend me”

Ok. This guy had no idea how to sort out i-almost-killed-you situations. First, he risked by showing up, but Marion was confused enough not to attack him, and she even invited him in, what was much more then he deserved. Maybe because he looked so lost. But then he managed to offend her by explaining what werewolves do, and then he decided to talk about hunters. Yes, good, wonderful, let’s talk about hunters, because that is the most pleasant topic ever, especially, when pain burns your body as flames used to do.

She took a longer look at the stranger, thinking, what to answer and how much to say. It was a slippery-slope to go.

At the question, he shook his head, putting on the break at a red light. “My father was a warlock, but my mother was a hunter.” He said, strumming his fingers on the steering wheel. The light turns green and the truck is soon moving again. “Brought up both. Been practicing magic since I was six or seven.”

 “Then this is a dangerous world for you. You do not fully belong anywhere.” she said and looked out the window. The young warlock was worried, or maybe sad, about something. His parents? Marion decided to push a bit more.

“What happened with your parents?” she asked and looked in his eyes, her looking was promising, that he can trust her, that she will understand. Always know everything you can for the ones who might become your allies. And know more about the ones who could become your enemies. 

With the word magic Marion held her breath for a second, but it was no warning, the girl was completely clueless, that she talks with a witch. Either that, either she was a good actress. 

“Well, I can always try” Marion smiled, approached the machine, at hit it with an open palm, silently whispering several words. And, guess what, her touch was magical. machine started to work. 

“I guess, my touch truly is magical. But next time I would recommend to try out one of the nice coffee shops” Marion did silence the fact, that they are nice only if you like people “I haven’t seen you around”

“Do you think kicking it might just be the easiest way to get it to work?”

The door eventually opened along the voice of the stranger. Heath didn’t really remember how she looked like since appearances were different when he was a wolf, but if he had to confirm this was the lady he fought it was grounded by the sneeze he gave. Ever since he was young his nose was sensitive to magic for some reason. Every time he smelled it he sneezed. This had to be the witch.

“I’m not selling anything and that’s.. Great?” Nice start, Heath. He cleared his throat and looked at the lady. “I came by to uh.. Give this to you. Thought you’d need some things.” Inside were some chocolate and other foods that were good for iron. Not the best basket of get well gifts, but it was necessary for recovery. “Before you try to kill me with that fire of your and that death spell- I just wanted to say that I’m sorry about the attack last night. I wasn’t thinking- couldn’t actually because of ptsd and a lot of other things. So. Here, take this, I hope you feel better, and I’m really sorry.”

He did not say hello. He sneezed. Marvelous. Cold would perfectly combine with her injuries already. And he looked so... worried. Had he killed her cat? She did not have one, so if he accidentally hit something, he needed to go to lady across the street. Her windows were not broken, no eggs thrown at her house and she could not remember the last time when kids from the streets tried to play in her garden. So this guy should not be worried parent.

And then she saw the thing he brought with him. Marion looked even more confused, seeing chocolate and other food. Why this guy, complete stranger, would think that she needs food? Was this a trick to make her buy something? In that case he was the worst seller ever. But Marion did not need to think about it too long, because her guest decided to explain himself. 

“Are you fucking serious?” Witch did not think before she told those words much louder than she should. That was the werewolf. Who came to apologize. Maybe the herbs she used to take off the pain were a bit hallucinogenics? Things like this did not happen, never after a fight someone came to apologize with basket of chocolates. Even if someone wanted peace... why would he come in hos most vulnerable state? Why he cared? Was he afraid? 

“Sorry. I wanted to say, that is brave, show up here after almost eating me yesterday.” She pushed her wish to kill him right off deep down, but the poisons shade in her voice told that she is still angry. That would not be fair and would not make her happy. And she was confused. Still. 

“Come in?” Marion was not really sure of her words. “At least come in to put this on table, because my hand hurts a bit” 

“Work.” He finally answered, sliding behind the wheel, and putting the keys in the ignition. The truck starts up with the turn of the key and soon they’re on the road heading toward the bar. “What about you?”

“Work? There is not much to do” She smiled “But let it be your way. I moved here to get rid of my work,” 

“Were your both parents practicing magic?” she asked casually, continuing small talk in a bit more true way.

New moon, new man. As if. Even if the new moon wasn’t here he felt a hell of a lot better than he had last night. If he had lost his memory whenever he was a wolf that would’ve been fine with him. But he didn’t and he was stuck with feeling extremely guilty. He almost killed that witch. He had the chance to and he knew he could have if he really wanted to. 

Heath had ran until the forest had given out. It was miles away, but farr enough that he wouldn’t have to run into someone else again. The vitals had healed when he came to a stop. For the rest of the night he just paced and hunted other animals to fill his stomach. Healing always made him hungry. When the moon started to sink down he felt himself come back enough to know he wouldn’t get into a fight like that again. Slowly he went back to his place, changing back and slipping through his door to go to bed.

When he woke up he just laid there. He felt fine but guilt was eating at him. It was one thing to harm and kill hunters that have the intention of killing him, but to do what he had done last night? It just made him feel bad. After an hour of cleaning every inch of himself from the dirt and grime he got dressed and went out. First to the stores, buying a basket and other small things inside. Then he was tracking. He still remembered what the witch smelled like. Her scent and the magic. So while he acted completely normal he trailed after the faint scent until he was at a door. Guess this is where she lived. Heath took a deep breath and knocked on the door, sighing as he waited.

Marion woke up late, changed the gauze, made herself a coup of coffee, and, first time in five years, she lit a cigarette, sitting on her kitchen table. When she was an actress, she smoked a lot, especially after she did not get a role. Then she could smoke half a package straight, and after that she was not able to talk. Then she quit, but somewhere in her bag, wardrobe or kitchen there was always one cigarette package hidden for situations like this, when you can do nothing, just sit and wait time to pass. 

Last night was definitely something. A turning point, small one, but still. First time, since this new supernatural flow started, Marion had realized, there might be drawbacks and she needed to protect herself, not only her house and books, as it was down till now. And she needed to find a way how to get her revenge. How to make that monster feel the same pain she felt. Marion will meet him again, bu then she will be ready. A month was more than enough.

A door bell brought witch back to reality. She dropped the cigarette in the sink and slowly went to the front door. They were not locked since yesterday. 

“I’m not buying anything and no, I am not interested in Scientology” witch said while opening the doors. And she did not look happy.