Novel & Cerita Maggie Cross

We all headed over to the food line, Rian walking between Tristan and I. Several pack members cast curious glances our way at the sight of Rian with us. Miss Maggie was working the buffet this evening and Rian waved to her, and she waved back. Miss Maggie was an older lady, looking to be in her mid fifties by Human standards, so perhaps in her late 100s for a werewolf. Her long brown hair had wisps of gray throughout it and was pinned back in a bun while she worked. She was taller, perhaps 5’9” or so, with a slightly curvy frame and well worn wrinkles on her hands, and laugh lines on her face.

They both turned at the quiet voice. "Maggie." Xander wondered if she noticed the softening in Porter's expression and tone. She'd lost the suit jacket since the cemetery but looked no less professional in the slim skirt and blouse, all that pale blonde hair gathered in a roll at her nape. Xander imagined she dressed much the same for the boardroom or her high-powered clients in LA. He wasn't sure exactly what she did for a living except that it used that terrifying brain of hers. "It's Margaret these days."

There was friendly laughter all around. "Maggie's not a city girl. She's originally from North Carolina. She lives in New York now, just like I do." He dug his phone from his pocket, queuing up the photo of the two of them he'd taken at the Red Lantern Inn, and he passed it around. "What does she do?" asked his sister Renée, who was pregnant with her second child. "She's a lawyer. Works for the prosecutor's office." "We were supposed to meet her this weekend, but we couldn't go, what with Savannah being sick," Jerilyn elaborated. "Ro-bert, tell them how you met her."

She heaved a deep sigh as she put the documents down on the table. Morrigan's cold gaze darts towards the Prince Regent who is now crawling out of bed. But like Mathias, he could barely lift himself with how potent the drug Morrigan created just for the two of them. She leaned on the frame of a chair as she watches the Prince Regent crawling towards the door for his dear life. "Why struggle when everything will come to an end now." Morrigan wiped the dagger on her dress and held its hilt tightly as she lifts herself to stand upright. Looking below her, watching the Prince Regent mopping the floor as he helplessly crawls the cold floor. Watching him with bored eyes she stepped on the back of

Maggie opened the door and leaned on the door frame. “That bad? Some girls like their enemies a little too much, not your type?” I cringed. “Ok then let's make this better, we have coffee and pastries to serve!” She announced. Maggie waved a cup in the air, no doubt full of delicious coffee, caramel, and creamy goodness. I smiled, grabbing my apron and wiping the tears with the back of my hand before putting the joint out and taking the coffee from her as I walked out. Maggie clapped her hands. I held my coffee high as we shouted on our way out,

Maggie. She pressed the button as her white Mercedes Benz responded with a beep sound signifying it had been locked. Maggie nodded in satisfaction. She had clearly done her job excellently again. She is 'the Calvary', hasn't she always been? Many years ago, after her lone six years old daughter died of cancer and her husband deserted her she had dedicated her life to working for the Olukoyes. She literally owed the family everything she had and was. She had always been a petty street hacker living off people's carelessness. She used to somehow manage to steal people's ATM cards, hack their passwords and steal money from their accounts.

Maggie wouldn't hear it. We just got back from our last paper about an hour ago, Maggie didn't follow me back because she had to go do some finishing touches to the party preparations holding four hours later. I returned and tried to get a nap in but here I am, awake and subject to her hyper energy. I don't take her recent crush on Conrad seriously because Maggie has a new crush every single week. Conrad is an average looking dude, who dresses like he was a 70's french gay painter with serious ego problems. Apparently, that was Maggie's type for this new week. I have told her that it might be possible that her choice of a crush might be as a result of too much studying scrambling her brains

MELISSA'S POV I climbed down the stairs yawning from tiredness. I didn't go to bed on time last night because I couldn't stop watching the late night fashion show displaying. I loved the way they all dressed and spoke eloquently. I really want to be like that, go to school and be able to speak that way. I would talk to Asher about it, maybe he would get me a teacher so I could able to read and write. The little knowledge I have, I learnt from princess Melissa's books which helped me to understand most of human language.

Why were they still waiting? “Iris, get in the house.” Maggie started coughing and my eyes widened when they landed on her. She was sat up against the house, her legs outstretched. Her wrinkled hands clutched at her stomach as crimson stained the front of her dress. Thick, red blood seeped through her fingers. “Maggie.” Scrambling towards her, I didn’t care if my voice carried. I didn't care if they heard me or saw me. Maggie was an elderly, unarmed woman alone and they had shot her.

Jax, Gunner, and I were walking up towards her when I noticed Maggie staring off into the distance. “Mags? What is it? You want to stretch your wings?” I asked hoping that it wasn’t something to do with the bad feeling in my gut. “Charlie and the other witches still here?” She asked still focused out in the field. “Yes?” I answered now looking back at the pack. “Issue the alert,” Maggie said before standing up fully, stretching her wings out, and roaring, letting a large flame erupt from her mouth. Calling Koa forward, “Witches! Protect women and children!”