Jacqueline didn't let him finish.
She had been fighting for three days. She was exhausted, scared, and deeply, furiously angry in the way that only comes from profound injustice sustained over a long period. She was the daughter of a monster, yes—but she was also someone who had done nothing wrong, who had committed no crime, who was being hunted through the streets of a city she had grown up in because of blood she hadn't chosen.
She cast.
The binding spell caught two of the men before they could react, their arms snapping to their sides, their wands suddenly useless in pinned hands. They stumbled and fell, unable to balance properly without their arms.
Behind her, she heard her mother cast a disorientation charm that caused one of the two figures approaching from the rear to walk directly into a lamppost with decisive, if undignified, affect.
That left two functional opponents.
