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I remembered Cortez saying to meet him at the front of the car. Where was the front of the car? The moment I stepped away from the vehicle, people surrounded me, the noise engulfed me. Fingers grabbed my arm. I jerked away, then saw Cortez at my side, his hand around my elbow.
"No comment," he said and pulled me from the fray.
The crowd released me for a moment, then swallowed me again.
"--do you--"
"--living dead--"
"--Grantham Cary--"
"--dragons and--"
I opened my mouth to say "no comment," but couldn't get the words out. Instead, I shook my head and let Cortez say them for me.
When he managed to free us again, I pulled Savannah closer, my arm going tightly around her waist. She didn't resist. I tried to look over at her, but everything around us moved so fast, I caught only a glimpse of her cheek.
The crowd tried closing in on us again, but Cortez barreled through, pulling us in his wake. We'd gone about ten feet when the mob swelled. Others joined the newspeople, and the tone of that single, shouting voice went from predatory excitement to vicious rage.
"--killer--"
"--Satanist--"
"--witch--"
A man shoved a newswoman out of our path and stepped in front of Cortez. His eyes were wild and bloodshot. Spittle flew from his lips.
"--Devil's whore! Murdering bitch--"
Cortez lifted his hand chest-high. For a moment, I thought he was going to deck the guy. Instead, he simply flicked his fingers. The man stumbled back, tripping over an elderly woman behind him, then wheeling to scream deprecations at her for pushing him.
Cortez steered us through the gap. If anyone didn't move fast enough, he shouldered them aside. If they tried to block us, he flicked his fingers at waist level, propelling them back with just enough force to make them think someone had pushed them. After five long minutes, we finally reached the porch.
"Get inside," Cortez said.
He turned fast, shoving Savannah and me toward the door as he blocked the porch steps. I fumbled to unlock the door, my mind racing in search of a spell, something that might distract or repel the mob until Cortez could get inside.
Mentally thumbing through my repertoire, I realized I had nothing. Yes, I knew some aggressive spells, but my selection was so limited that I had nothing to suit the situation. What was I going to do? Make one person faint? Rain down fireballs? They probably wouldn't even notice the former, and the latter would attract too much notice. The rebel Coven Leader, so proud of her forbidden spells, was useless. Completely useless.
While we got inside the house, Cortez staved off the crowd, physically blocking the narrow steps, one hand planted on each side of the railing. It lasted just long enough for us to get through the door. Then someone pushed hard, and a heavyset man pitched against Cortez's shoulder.
Cortez backpedaled just in time to avoid being knocked over. His lips moved and, for a moment, the crowd held at the steps, stopped by a barrier spell. Cortez shot for the door and undid the spell before it became obvious. The front row of the crowd tumbled forward.
I threw open the screen door. Cortez caught it. As he dashed through, a shadow passed overhead. A young man leaped off the side railing. The spell flew from my lips before I had time to think. The man stopped short, head and limbs jerking back. The binding spell broke then, but he'd lost his momentum and fell onto the porch several feet from the door. Cortez slammed the screen shut, then the inner door.
"Good choice," he said.
"Thanks," I said, choosing not to mention that it was my only choice and that I was lucky it worked for even those few seconds. I bolted the door, cast lock and perimeter spells, then collapsed against the wall. "Please tell me we don't have to go out again ... ever."
"Does that mean we can order pizza for dinner?" Savannah called from the living room.
"You got the fifty bucks for a tip?" I yelled back. "Ain't no pizza boy coming through that mob for less than a Ulysses S. Grant."
Savannah let out a cry, half-shriek, half-shout. As I raced into the living room, she said something I couldn't make out. A man's body flew across the rear hall. He struck the wall headfirst. There was a sharp crack, then a thud as he collapsed in a heap on the carpet. Savannah stepped from her bedroom doorway as Cortez and I arrived. He dropped to the man's side.
"Out cold," Cortez said. "Do you know him?"
I looked at the man, middle-aged, receding hairline, pinched face, and shook my head. My gaze traveled up the wall to a four-inch hole with cracks radiating from every side, like a giant spider.
