When I checked the time again, it was 5:35. The scent of simmering sauce and beef drifted all the way from the kitchen to my office, making me realize I was hungrier than I thought. It smelled pretty good, if I said so myself. Which I did.

  Heading through the kitchen, I transferred the wash to the dryer in the garage, the faint scent of soap mixing with the heavier smell of dinner. That was when the doorbell rang. Then rang again.

  “Here already?” I muttered, heading for the front door before remembering I’d given Blaze an extra key.

  The doorbell rang once more.

  “Just a minute!” I hollered, moving to the front window. I leaned over the couch, peeked through the curtain, and saw several cars parked on the street, a news truck with a big antenna was parked across next to the Speedy Pizza building. It looked like something from the last century.

  “They still use those?”

  The bell rang again, sharp and insistent, and I knew what it had to be. Reporters

  Before opening the door, I closed the drapes all the way, blocking their line of sight. I’d left them open to watch for the next spawn across the street, but I didn’t want them seeing inside now.

  I retreated to the kitchen so the man outside…whom I glimpsed through the front door, kept alternately ringing the bell and knocking…couldn’t see me. I didn’t want to stall, but I also didn’t want to deal with him.

  Firing off a quick chat message to Chief Brown, I asked for help with the reporters and backup in case something went bad.

  The person outside didn’t sound like he’d stop until he had something.

  [William of Brinsford:] [Blaze] [I got a bunch of reporters at my door. I don’t want to give any interviews. Anything I can legally do to get rid of them?]

  A few minutes later, I got a reply…but not from Blaze.

  [MBledsoe:] [William of Brinsford] [Hanna’s driving. Hi! I’m Matt Bledsoe. She gave me your contact. You don’t have to talk to them and can make them get off your property, but not the street or sidewalk.]

  [William of Brinsford:] [MBledsoe] [Some of them are parking across the street where things spawn. Next spawn at 7. How about shields to keep them away? If they break my shield, is that an attack on me?]

  [MBledsoe:] [William of Brinsford] [Heard about your shields that stop bullets. Not a lawyer, but you could argue it’s like a fence. If they break down a fence to get to you, you could have a case. I’ve dealt with reporters before. Most listen to police, but some push it.]

  [William of Brinsford:] [MBledsoe] [Would you two be willing to come in looking like FBI? Might scare them off. I’ve asked Chief Brown for help too. They’re sometimes blocking traffic, and someone almost hit one of them a minute ago.]

  [MBledsoe:] [William of Brinsford] [Hanna says sure. We’ve got the gear. Almost there.]

  [William of Brinsford:] [MBledsoe] [Thanks muchly. Talk soon.]

  The guy outside didn’t sound like he’d stop until he had what he wanted. He was still at it.

  Wanting to be as relaxed as I could be, I took a couple of deep breaths to center myself and went to the door. As he knocked again; I unlocked the door and opened it, startling him.

  The May air drifting through the front door after I pulled the door open felt humid. “Maybe we’ll finally get some rain?”

  The man flinched, his hand raised mid-knock, looking startled. As they say, his look was priceless.

  “No solicitors. I’m busy and don’t have time to talk right now. Go away.” I raised my hand, casting a MANA SHIELD which covered the doorway and doorbell. The blue glow pulsed faintly in the evening light.

  “Mr. Bannister, wait! I’m Phill Dierling from Channel….”

  “I don’t care who you are or where you’re from,” I cut him off. “Leave.”

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  Behind him were at least half a dozen people with their phones and a couple of cameras out, filming. Down the street, I heard a police siren coming closer.

  “Now go away, and don’t come back. The authorities are on their way to remove you.”

  “I don’t give interviews,” I continued. “The one I gave yesterday was the last. Understand? If I ever give another, it won’t be to you or your station, whatever it is.”

  His mouth opened, but no sound came out as he stepped back in shock.

  That’s when I spotted a familiar beige Prius pulling up and turning into the cross street. Hanna and Matt got out, Blaze slipping into her dark blue jacket as she walked. Her passenger was already wearing his. Both of them were wearing dark sunglasses. They looked every inch FBI.

  “One more thing,” I said, leaning forward, almost touching my shield, “For your own safety, move your vehicles away from the building across the street. Or maybe we’ll just let the Kobolds bash on them. Could be entertaining.”

  “Kobolds? What kobolds?” He glanced around, confused, before reaching toward the door again…only to recoil as the light blue glow stopped him.

  “What is this?” he demanded, patting at the shield.

  “It’s a MANA SHIELD. Be glad it’s not a FIRE SHIELD, or your hand would be burning right now.” He yanked his hand back, and I nodded toward Blaze and Matt crossing the street.

  “Fire’s a specialty of a friend of mine,” I added. “She’s not really happy with you right now.”

  An Eddington police cruiser pulled up, lights flashing red and blue, and parked behind the crowd’s cars. The officer stepped out, and people shifted aside, watching and filming.

  While they were distracted, I cast a quick REVEAL STATS on the man in front of me.

  Phil Daring, Bard Vocal Entertainer, Level 1.

  His posture changed, and his voice smoothed as he said, “Please, let’s be reasonable. We can talk this through.”

  PERSUADE RESISTED flashed across my vision, and I smiled, watching his eyes widen as he saw it, too.

  “Don’t use your Bard powers on me, Phil Darling. You’re Level one, I’m Level nine. You don’t stand a chance. Don’t try it on them, either.”

  I pointed past him as Hanna, Matt, and Sergeant Torres from the Eddington PD approached, parting the reporters. Torres was wearing his tactical vest, one hand down near his gun and the other loose and ready. I saw what looked like a light on his body cam. It was filming.

  “What fun,” I thought, “Sergeant Torres. I haven’t seen him since yesterday.” Putting on a friendly smile, I waved to them.

  “Mr. Dierling, meet some friends of mine,” I said. “Sergeant Torres from Eddington Police, and FBI agents Bledsoe and Pozarkova. They’re all higher level than you, and your tricks won’t work on them either.”

  Dierling’s jaw dropped as he turned to look. I took the moment to throw a PSYCHIC SHIELD on Matt, watching him blink as the System notified him before he caught up with Blaze.

  “Agent Bledsoe,” I called, “hope you don’t mind the shield. He’s a Bard.”

  “Will? He tried to use powers on you?” Torres asked, stepping closer. His right hand closer to his gun.

  “Technically Bard powers, but yeah. He’s Level one,” I said. I threw a PSYCHIC SHIELD on Torres, too, watching him nod.

  [MBledsoe:] [William of Brinsford] [Not a problem.]

  “Mr. Dierling, using your powers on someone unwilling is considered assault,” Torres told him calmly, body cam blinking. “If Mr. Bannister wants to press charges, I’ll arrest you.”

  “Have you used any of your powers on him, Will?” Torres asked.

  “Only REVEAL STATS and the SHIELD over my door. He touched it, but didn’t break it. Physical shields don’t block mental powers. I don’t want to press charges unless he refuses to leave.”

  Ryan and Meg were standing on their front sidewalk, watching us and the reporters. I couldn’t tell if they were worried or amused. Or both.

  “His refusal to leave my property is something else. I’m willing to go there if he doesn’t leave me alone.” I answered, looking around.

  “We have more than enough for a party, including a healer.” I had no clue why that thought came to mind. “We’re not going to attack the news people.” I sighed as I kept my stern look at Dierling. “Too much of the game coming through,” was my best guess.

  Quietly, I focused back on Dierling. “Everyone, calm down. I don’t want anyone arrested, and I damn sure don’t want anyone hurt. And you don’t want to piss off Blaze. She has a fiery temper,” I said, winking at her.

  Blaze glanced at Matt, who nodded. Her hand flared red, and she launched a FIRE BOLT straight up, the reporters’ phones and cameras tracking it as it exploded in a bright burst above the neighborhood.

  “If Will says there will be spawns, there will be spawns,” Blaze said, her voice calm but carrying. “You don’t want your cars…or yourselves…nearby if I have to throw FIRE BALLS. Or worse.”

  “Mr. Dierling,” Torres cut in, “you know the law. If the homeowner wants you off their property, you leave. You also can’t block the road.”

  Torres’ face went distant for a second as he checked something, then refocused. “I just confirmed the building across the street is Spawn Site One. It was the first site reported this morning. Please move your vehicles now, for your own safety.”

  Torres shifted his stance, thumbs hooked on his belt. They must teach that in the academy, I thought, grinning. “It's such a cliche move. But it works.”

  Almost everyone but Dierling hurried off to get their cars moved.

  “Just one question. Are you going to accept the President’s invitation to the White House?”

  “What invitation?”

  “She said she’s inviting the top people who understand what’s going on, and the highest ranked people. If you’re Level nine, you must be on that list.”

  “OK, I’ll answer that. I don’t have an invite, and even if I did, I’m not going to Washington. Tell everyone I will not give any more interviews, and if I ever do, it won’t be with you. Now leave. And don’t come back.”

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