Demon Song

21

It took two hours at a table with Mick and Molly to answer all their questions. And then there was nothing left but the fear.

“No,” Molly said simply and with force. “I won’t allow it.”

There was a television in the corner of the restaurant, on a shelf mounted near the ceiling. Bruno reached far up to turn on the set. As expected, my little town was on every national channel. The rift now was the equivalent of a dozen city blocks across. Bruno looked back at the Murphys with a serious expression. “When we arrived here, the rift was only a quarter the size of what you see here. It’s increasing exponentially. Soon it’ll breach the barrier. I don’t see how it can’t. There aren’t enough magic practitioners in the world to keep up a barrier this size. It’s pulling at me right now. The mages like me who put up that shield are being drained, minute by minute. If some of the people I crafted this with aren’t already dead, I’ll be surprised.”

I looked at him with abrupt fear. I hadn’t known it was a continual drain—that he was somehow tied to the shield. “Bruno…”

He waved it off, but now that I knew I saw the weariness around his eyes. The laugh lines were deeper, as were the creases of his brow. “I’m one of the most powerful mages in the country, Celia. It’ll be a week or better before it starts to pull on my life force. The shield won’t last that long.” Then he turned back to the Murphys, who were holding white-knuckled hands and staring at the screen. “When it fails, we all die. The priests, the Pope … they’ve tried everything in the Vatican vault. Things hidden from the public eye for centuries. Yesterday I heard from some friends back east that black-arts sorcerers are volunteering to help, knowing even they’re at risk from this. We have no choice but to ask this of you.”

“But she’s only a child.” Mick’s voice was soft and frightened and it was hard to blame him. “She doesn’t understand what—”

“Yes, Dad. I do.” We turned to see Beverly standing in the doorway to the kitchen. Her words were calm, but there was a fierceness in the set of her jaw and cold clarity in her eyes. I’d seen that face before in the mirror, and at that age. Was I a different person now than the child I’d been when I’d looked like that?

I knew. I wasn’t.

She walked forward a few steps and then stopped again to take us all in. “I do understand what this means. If I can stop that, then there’s no choice. I’ll blow the horn or do whatever the instructions say I have to.”

I stood and walked over to her and put both hands on her slim shoulders. She’d taken out the pigtails so that her bright red hair flowed like waves around her face. She looked like an adult suddenly, trapped in a body that didn’t match the strength inside those green eyes. “You could die, Beverly.”

She reached up to touch my hand and there was a hint of something in her eyes, another expression familiar from my mirror. Was it cynicism, so early? But then, I had no idea what trauma she’d had in her life. Perhaps this was just one more piece of a terrible pie that she shouldn’t have had to eat. Like me … so very like me.

She curved one side of her mouth into an ironic smile. “So could you. But us tone-deaf people have to stick together.”

That was the real key, according to Bruno. Beverly and I were old-fashioned tone-deaf. It was why the horns didn’t bother us like other people. Why we could sound them without our eardrums breaking. Yes, there might be a hundred thousand clinically tone-deaf people out there and yes, it was possible we could find others who had siren heritage and could blow the horns. But could we do it in time?

Adriana motioned from the window. “Mr. Fulbright is back. Are we ready?”

“No,” I said honestly, still staring into those bright green eyes. “But that doesn’t really matter.”

* * *

“Are you sure you want to do this, Nathan?” Standing in the small courthouse, Mick was staring at a piece of paper with a fine trembling in his hands. “I’m not positive it’s legal.”

The old man nodded once, firmly. “It gives the terms in writing, it’s signed, and Joe’s signed as notary. Once you hand me a ten-dollar bill, it’s a deed. You’ll own this land and there’s not a thing anyone can do to take it from you provided you eventually pay off the twenty-four-million-dollar note.” He shrugged. “And the first payment isn’t due for two years. If you don’t have the money by then … and we’re not dead, I or my heirs will just take back the land.”

Mick looked truly torn. Being in law, no doubt he knew how many things could go wrong. I shrugged. “Couldn’t you add in a sentence that nullifies the deal if you don’t get the bequest? In case the challenge to the Will succeeds?”

Fulbright nodded his head. “I’d agree to that. Seems fair.” He pulled the paper out of Mick’s hands and proceeded to carefully print the words and initial them. He handed it to the other man—Joe, who was acting as notary. “You need to initial it, too?”

The man nodded and did. “For a situation like this, I’d suggest the Buyer also sign.” He pushed the pen across the desk toward Mick, who was nearly as pale as me. “Then there’s no questions.” When Mick didn’t move, Joe half-stood from his chair. “Mick. Look at me.” The terrified man did. “Would I ever suggest anything that could ruin your name or family or stand you in front of me?”

There was something about the way he said it that caused me to look around the room. Ah. A brass plaque was screwed to the door behind the swinging wooden gate that separated the room. Judge Joseph Robertson. I could tell the old stone courthouse had recently gotten a face-lift to return it to its original glory. The dark wood gleamed and pale blue paint the color of robin eggs on the walls was edged with white woodwork all the way up to a hammered-tin ceiling that was nearly identical in design to the one in my office. Must have been a common pattern back in the day.

Mick picked up the pen and initialed, then handed the paper back to the judge. “I’ll trust you to get this recorded, if you don’t mind.” He pulled out his wallet and took a deep breath before opening the double fold. “May my wife forgive me if this goes badly.” He gave a nervous chuckle. “I’d ask the Good Lord’s forgiveness instead, but I’m more afraid of Molly.”

“It’ll be okay, Dad. You’ll see.” Beverly came up behind him and gave him a bear hug while he handed over the money. His eyes shut and his arm snaked around to pull her tight against him for a long moment.

He snuffled hard once. “Damned allergies. Well, we’d better get going before your mother changes her mind about me keeping you out of school for the da—”

Nausea hit my stomach hard enough to raise bile into my throat and mouth. I wasn’t the only one feeling that way, either. Bruno was heaving whatever he’d had for breakfast into a patch of cactus and Beverly was on her knees in a wide expanse of knee-high dry grass that had abruptly replaced the courthouse. She vomited noisily and even Okalani looked a little unstable. “I’m sorry, Highnesses. I tried to teleport us to the cave the princess saw in Mr. Fulbright’s mind, but we were pushed away.”

I didn’t get a chance to answer before Fulbright was spitting fire: “Damned fool know-it-all mind readers!” He was the picture of backcountry fury, shaking his walking stick at us and spewing spit with each word. “If you’d waited five minutes I woulda explained why it was so important we had to finish the deed first!”

Bruno had recovered and was waving his hand in the air in slow arcs. As I watched, symbols appeared and disappeared as though he were shining a black-light bulb past fluorescent stone. “Wow, this is very old magic. And Nathan’s right. It’s pagan … land based. Mick, see if you can walk across this line.” He picked up a wide stick and pulled it hard across the ground, creating a rough line in the grass.

Mick approached Bruno tentatively, hands stretched out like he was reaching for a wall in a dark room. Nothing stopped him and he walked forward. He shrugged and looked backward. But Bruno still couldn’t enter and I could feel the pressure of the barrier even from where I was standing, a dozen feet away.

Fulbright stepped right across, which confused Mick. The old man pointed a shaking finger at him with a self-satisfied smile. “Yep. You’re the owner, but now you know why I hold the mortgage. Till it’s paid, I still own rights in the land.” He walked forward pretty quick, a snarky laugh wheezing out of him. “C’mon then. I’ll show you what you own.”

“Sorry. I didn’t know he was going to do this.” Mick had no choice but to shrug at us and chase Fulbright. Then Mick turned in mid-jog and called back, “I’ll take pictures if I can—there’s a camera in my phone!”

I threw up my hands in frustration and looked at Bruno. “Isn’t there anything you can do to get through this barrier?”

He squatted down and then sat in the grass, patting the dirt beside him in invitation. “The only thing anyone can do at this point is pull up a rock and wait. I guess you’ve never heard of a fee-simple barrier?”

I thought back to my college classes and even my recent library acquisitions but finally shook my head. “Does that term mean something?”

“Well, it’s a big thing in real estate law, but it’s also what puts pagan magic in priority over any ritual or innate magic.” He must have seen my confusion, because he twitched his finger for me to step forward and then patted the ground again with an expression of impatience. Okalani and her mother sat on the dirt, as did Beverly, but Adriana found a relatively flat boulder to perch on.

What the hell. I sat where his hand was patting.

“Pagan magic is tied to the physical world. Father Sun, Mother Earth, Sister Moon, et cetera. Land used to belong to anyone at large … until people began to allow others to rule over them. Then the Crown became the owner by mutual consent of all. The Crown granted fee estates to people—giving them a freehold interest.”

“Wonderful history lesson on land. But does this have anything to do with the barrier?”

He dipped his head once, bemused as usual at my impatience. He always found my frustration at his calm amusing. “It does. When the Crown granted the ‘fee-simple’ freehold, it decreed that the ownership was”—and he raised fingers into the air to make quotation marks—“ ‘from the heavens above to the center of the earth.’ Magic that’s tied to the land to prevent entry follows those same markers. There is no way—and I mean no way—to cross a pagan fee-simple barrier while the owner is present. You can’t dig under it or fly over it. It’s a solid mountain of magic that passes beyond our reach.”

I shook my head. He was wrong. “But that makes no sense. If that was true, then any Pagan priest would be completely safe at home just by casting a simple spell on the ground. And we know that’s not true.”

One finger rose into the air with a peaceful, patient expression on his face. “Ahh … grasshopper. You need to listen closer. I said pagan magic. I don’t mean magic created by the Pagans, the religion with a capital P, but old pagan, with a lowercase p. It’s the land itself that’s casting us out, not a mage or witch who’s raised a circle. This barrier has been here for a very long time. It could have been cast by the original Captain Fulbright or his wife—if she was a siren witch—or even by an older group of humans or protohumans. It’s part of the land, like oil or gas or even fossils. This is a really unique thing. I hope I survive this mess so I can get Mick’s and Nathan’s permission to study it. A person could make a doctoral thesis about just this one piece of ground.”

“Interesting,” was Adriana’s only comment while the others just nodded.

But I saw a pretty big downside. “So, basically, if they can’t find any instructions, we can’t go look. Nobody can. You’re saying we’re screwed if they don’t come back.”

Another small twitch of his lips. “Not at all. It’s quite possibly the best thing that could ever have happened. Whatever’s inside the cave Adriana saw is completely protected from anything—including demons. The magic’s all-inclusive and keeps this one small bit of the world safe from even the rift. It has all the strength of every heavenly body in space and the molten core of the Earth. It means the world can never be fully destroyed and with careful planning mankind can survive, because this place will always be. So long as there’s an owner who truly believes the magic’s real, that is.” He smiled brilliantly, with the exuberance of a child. “It’s a very cool thing.”

I guessed if he was happy about it, I should be, too. He was a true student of magic. Just then his face contorted into a small grimace and he reached up to press on his torso near his diaphragm.

“You okay?’

He shook his head in tiny movements. “Probably pulled something when the magic knocked us back. I need to walk it off. Wanna go with?” He pushed off and got his knees under him. I did, too. We might as well walk around. It sure beat sitting and staring at the lack of scenery.

He reached out his hand to me and I took it. I said to the others, “We’ll be back in a minute.”

We started down what looked like it was once a wagon path—two narrow lines of hard-packed dirt tracing through the weeds and grass. When we were mostly out of sight, I quietly asked, “So, what did you want to say that you couldn’t say in front of the others?” The I’ve got a stitch in my side ploy was one we’d used before.

“Actually, I really did need to walk.” He pointed to the first place he’d touched. “It’s starting to bug me.”

We stopped and I looked at him with concern. “Did you maybe get a spider bite or something? Lift up your shirt.” He rolled his eyes, but I twirled my finger in the air. “C’mon, Bruno. Don’t be such a tough guy that you wind up with something really wrong.”

It was hard to fault that logic. He sighed and pulled the pale blue cotton shirt out of his pants. It would have been fun to watch him lift it up to expose bare skin, but what I saw when he did made me suck in a harsh breath. He noticed the look on my face and turned his eyes down. “What…? Oh, crap.”

There were three raised red marks in a long diagonal line across his chest. That was no spider bite. It looked like something had clawed him. “Is that from the barrier? Are you sure it’s a friendly one?”

He turned his head fast and stared at the seemingly empty air. “I don’t sense anything hostile. Nothing at all.”

Then, while I watched, a fourth line ripped across his stomach muscles. This one was deeper and caused him to let out a pained sound. “What the hell!” He put a hand on the new scratch, and when I crouched down in front of him and pulled it away I saw blood on his palm. But more important, there was also an odor I recognized—brimstone.

“Definitely what the hell. We need to get you to a priest. Now. These are demonic. They’re identical to the ones I got when I fought the greater demon at the ballpark.”

His breath stilled and he looked down at me with wide, suddenly frightened eyes. “Oh, God. The barrier. It’s figured out how to attack us through our magic.” He winced again and his head rocked to the side like he’d been slapped. A red mark appeared near his temple. An inch to the left and he would have lost the eye. “I’ve got to get back to California. Now. If it’s doing this to me, the other casters could be dead by now.”

Fuck a duck.

He held out his hand to help me to my feet. I took it and we started to run back across the landscape. I didn’t know if the demon could somehow sense Bruno’s location or what he was doing, but it was a pretty weird coincidence that the next strike was to his right leg. It buckled and I grabbed him to keep him from tumbling into a cactus patch. He started muttering swearwords in a blue streak and put a hand to his thigh. He took a tentative step and let out a low growl. When he tried to put weight on the leg, it held. Barely. “Just do the best you can, Bruno. It’s only a few more feet.” The others were in sight now. Okalani, watching, noticed that something was wrong and disappeared from sight to appear right next to us.

“What’s wrong?” Then she saw another claw mark tear down the side of Bruno’s face and she knew. Her mouth opened wide. “It’s a demon, isn’t it? Like the one that attacked you at Pili’s house.”

I nodded. “He needs to get back to California. The mages who put up the shield are being attacked and need to be blessed by priests. Can you take him? Come right back. We may need to make multiple trips.”

She nodded and took my place at Bruno’s side, holding his weight on her slender shoulders. For once he didn’t argue, but he did hold out a hand to me with a concerned look. “Be careful, Celie. This could just be another ploy by the demon to get to you.”

I leaned in and gave him a gentle kiss on the lips that had more emotion than heat. “I don’t think I have anything to do with it at this point.”

I hoped and prayed I was right.

They disappeared and I ran the short distance to the others. “We’ve got a problem. Bruno was attacked by a demon. Okalani took him back to the rift barrier. As soon as she gets back we need to start moving people around, fast.” I pointed at the young redhead. “Beverly, can you cross the barrier?” I was hoping pagan magic recognized the family connection—giving ownership to her as an heir of Mick’s. “Concentrate on the need to tell your dad what’s happening. Think really hard about him, because this is important.”

She took a deep breath, set her jaw, closed her eyes, and started walking. Her forward progress stopped, but she pushed against the invisible barrier like a street mime, using her whole body weight. Panic showed on her face. There was a shimmering of the air around her, a sparking of magic that flowed over her skin and raised her hair in a cloud. Then she was inside, so suddenly that she fell to her knees.

I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “Okay, good. Go find your dad. Scream; yell; do whatever you have to do to get his attention. When you find him, bring him back here and wait for us if we’re not here. Most important, stay behind the barrier.”

“But you need me to blow the horn.”

I was frankly hoping neither of us were needed. “If we need you, I’ll send Okalani to get you. But we may be beyond that now. I won’t know until I get there.”

She nodded and then sprinted into the distance, yelling at the top of her lungs, “Dad! Come quick!”

Adriana was alert but hadn’t moved from her comfortable seat. “I’ll remain here. It’s quite possible the instructions will be written in Atlantean. Someone will have to translate them and bring them to you.”

Good point. If the spell needed to be spoken, a faulty translation would be bad.

“Okay, I’m back. What’s next?” Okalani had appeared right next to me.

“What’s going on at the rift? Is that where you took Bruno?”

She nodded and let out a heaving breath like she had been running. “Yeah. He also had me transport his brother and another man in robes to him and the other mages. I would have been back sooner if not for that.”

In robes? “Was he an older white man with an accent? Were his robes all white?” Had she actually transported the Pope to the rift? I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.

“No. He had tan skin and black hair and the robes were red and black.”

Ah! Archbishop Fuentes. He was a friend of Matty’s and a damned tough former warrior priest. “Okay. Good job. Now, here’s what I want you to do.”

* * *

I arrived to a scene of pure chaos. I looked around, searching for Bruno or Matty or anyone else I knew, with no luck. “Ma’am, you can’t be here.” I turned my head to see a uniformed Highway Patrolman with his hand on the butt of his service revolver.

I still had the FBI badge Rizzoli had given me and now I hung it so the cop could see it. His stance immediately relaxed. “Sorry. Ma’am. But your friend will have to leave. No kids allowed.”

“What friend?” I didn’t even turn my head. Okalani should already be on the way to her next task. When he looked around for her, she was gone. Just like we’d planned. “Sorry, Officer. The heat must be getting to you.”

He shook his head and wandered off, muttering to himself. I pulled a little on the hair I’d put into a ponytail to keep it out of my eyes, loosening some strands to cover the tops of my ears. Sunscreen can only do so much good.

“Ceil! Where have you been?” I turned to see Creede headed my way. There was a stitched gash across his forehead and a patch of gauze covering half his neck. I felt a pang at the sight. He pulled me into a hug so hard my backpack fell off my shoulder. “I’ve been worried sick about you. Why haven’t you returned my calls? DeLuca said you were right behind him when he got here. That was an hour ago.”

I opened my mouth to answer, but he put his lips over mine and the speed and pure energy behind the kiss left me breathless when he finally pulled away. “Um. Wow. I’ve been…” Where had I been? I looked down at my forearms and held them up. “Weapons. I had to get my stuff together. Where are Bruno and Matty? Are they okay?”

Creede nodded as he put me back on my feet. Oh yeah—he definitely noticed that the kiss had gotten to me and I was trying to change the subject. “DeLuca got here just in time. All of us got beat up pretty bad in that first attack. As you can see.” He motioned to his forehead and then stared at the black gash of space with undisguised anger. “We might still lose Panna and Bordan. They were the first two hit, before we could get a secondary circle up.” He grabbed my hand. “C’mon. I’ll take you to our staging area.”

We race-walked through the crowd and it was a good thing Creede had hold of my hand, because there were even more people here than last time, if that was possible, and I never could have made my way through the crowd without his help. Matty was sitting on top of a steel drum, in serious discussions with three other priests and Archbishop Fuentes. I didn’t know Fuentes personally, but I’d seen him on the news plenty of times.

Bruno was painfully putting his shirt back on. A wide surgical patch of gauze was covering his chest and another strip of white covered the side of his face.

I didn’t even have to pull away from Creede. He just released my hand when he noticed my reaction to Bruno. That simple act made me turn to look at him. I couldn’t tell what emotion was swimming behind the fire in his eyes. He was a solid blank wall. I touched his hand with my fingers and gave him a wink. That earned me a small smile before he turned away to head toward Matty and the others.

“Bruno!” I rushed forward just as he looked my way. Relief made his whole body slump. He opened his arms and smiled. I didn’t throw myself at him because I imagined that would hurt. Instead, I stopped just before we touched and put a hand on either side of his neck. “I was worried about you.”

“You and me both, Celie.” I put my lips against his and he pressed forward, opening my jaw with his. He reached for my waist and pulled me in tight. If it hurt, he didn’t give any sign. I hadn’t kissed him like this in a long time and wasn’t sure what it would feel like—especially considering how Creede had just turned me into butter.

But Bruno had a whole different kissing style than Creede. It made me feel warm and safe and left me wanting more without feeling frantic or out of control. If Dawna asked me which I liked better, I’d have to struggle and probably wouldn’t give an answer.

“I knew you’d come, Celia. I’ve been waiting.” The words boomed through the air, silencing all conversation around us. Bruno abruptly released me and we all stared at the figure of a man, at least eight feet tall and completely naked, watching me from the other side of the barrier. He was … excited, too, which made me turn my eyes away.

You’d expect a greater demon to be hideous—uglier than the lesser ones. But no. He was gorgeous. A beauty so perfect that statues should be carved of his likeness and paintings hung down from the ceilings of cathedrals. He had wings of luminous pearlescent feathers like every cheesy Halloween costume ever made. Except real and perfect and … beautiful.

But it was all for show and I’d seen it once already. “Why don’t you drop the act and show everyone what you really look like. Nobody here buys the fallen-angel story.”

I saw a man in a charcoal suit speak into his hand: “It’s made contact. Get the vice president.”

The demon chuckled low and I hated that the sound pulled at things deep inside me. He definitely had my number. “Perhaps this form would be more pleasing to you?”

I flicked my eyes up and then down again because now he looked like Bruno, down to the gauze, in all his naked glory. The demon looked just the way Bruno did just before really good sex. It was … impressive. “Sorry. Try again. No sale.” Bruno was likewise watching the ground uncomfortably, because that’s not really the sort of thing you want displayed to a few thousand people. Nobody was jeering, though; it was too scary. But a week from now, after we’d all survived? It would be all over the tabloids. “I can’t believe you’re going to all this trouble just to try to get me here to kill me.”

He made a clucking sound with a long tapered tongue that seemed really freaky coming out of Bruno’s mouth. “Celia. I didn’t do this for you.” The form changed again. I could tell from the feet. This time it was even worse and I had to throw up my hands and turn around with a blush. Now he looked like Creede. And wow, if his representation of Creede’s body was as accurate as his version of Bruno had been … just wow. “But you will be my first stop when the barrier’s down. Though … maybe you’d prefer even fresher meat.”

“Who the hell?” Bruno’s anger was immediate, so yeah, I had to look. But oh, jeez!

I looked at Bruno and now Creede, who were both staring at the vision of Gaetano’s war-scarred, heavily muscled body. They both looked at me with raised brows. I had one arm across my stomach and the other hand was shielding my gaze from the heat in burning eyes. Finally I threw up my hands. “Fine. He asked me out! But I don’t even know his first name.”

“Christopher!” a woman yelled from the crowd, and a few people tittered. Yay. My humiliation was complete.

Then both Creede and Bruno let out sharp, simultaneous gasps and blood splattered across my arm and face. The demon was back in his demonic form, complete with red skin and tail. He was clawing a long line through the magic barrier while the men I cared about cried out in pain. I didn’t dare look at them to see what had been damaged. It would only make me crazy.

“Stop it!” I shouted, and finally stared right at the demon, stepping closer to the barrier and drawing a blackened knife. “Leave them out of this. If you want me dead, bring the fight to me.”

His smile was a leer of razor-sharp teeth. “This is bringing the fight to you, Celia. They’re the two most powerful mages here. If I kill them, the shield will fall and then I’ll have you. What could be simpler?”

Put that way, he was right. Damn it. “You’re starting to bore me.” I channeled my old drama teacher to give him the look of a snippy head cheerleader being asked to the prom by a nervous freshman. “When you get new material, have someone find me.”

It was the hardest thing I’d ever done to turn and flounce away from that barrier, the demon, Bruno, and John. Matty stared at me with undisguised anger until I shot him a c’mon, let’s get out of here, we need to talk look and stabbed my thumb toward a battered canvas tent that I’d noticed was housing the triage for the priests.

As I walked past, he leapt off the barrel and tried to grab my arm. I shook it off and turned the knife on him. With his eyes locked on mine I spoke directly into his mind: We need to get the horns ready to blow. Call my cell phone and tell Okalani, “Now!”

He should recognize her name. A single nod and he pulled his hands off me in a mock surrender that made it seem like he was afraid. In reality, Matty could probably kick my ass to town and back. Nobody else stopped me until I reached the tent. In fact, a few people cleared a path. The demon let out a howl of rage that I would dare walk away from him. My heart was pounding like a trip-hammer, fearing he would simply make an all-out effort to break the shield.

Instead, he quieted down, so by the time I was enclosed in the cool white cotton shelter I could breathe and take a moment to close my eyes and regroup.

“Celia.” When I opened my eyes, I was facing the third naked man depicted by the demon. Of course. Why wouldn’t I expect to see a medic in a triage tent?

“Gaetano.”

He let out a small smile before turning to an IV unit to adjust the amount of fluid dripping into the arm of a priest. “Might as well call me Chris.”

I was saved from responding when Matty walked into the tent. There wasn’t any way he couldn’t notice my blush, along with the cause for it a dozen paces away. Matty patted my arm with actual sympathy and handed me the handkerchief from his pocket to clean up the blood that had spattered on me before speaking: “If you survive the day, we probably need to talk.”

My weary sigh sort of said it all. “That would be nice.”

“Ms. Graves?” I looked up to see Vice President Marion Lovell briskly walking toward me as I spit on my arm and rubbed it with the now-pink hankie. “Could we speak?”

Can you actually refuse to talk to the vice president of the United States? I wasn’t sure, considering all the Secret Service agents at her sides. “Sure. Why not? What else can go wrong today?”