resists Warlock compulsion

Maybe this kid was a dangerous monster. The sheer malice radiating from him was convincing enough.
Or maybe he was just a terrified kid.
 I walked up to him quietly, my footsteps audible, cleared my throat, and said, “Hi.”
Hoodie turned to me, gave me half a glance, and snarled, “Get out of here.”
There was the force of magic in his voice, subtle power that tugged at my ear, made me want to lift my foot, pivot, and go the other way.
It wasn’t a very coherent compulsion. I waved it off with a defensive gesture of the fingers of my left hand. “Whoa, kid,” I said. “Save it for the tourists. You and I need to talk.”
That got his attention, pronto. His spine stiffened and he spun toward me on one heel, his shoulders tightening. He wasn’t tall, maybe five-six, and his shoulders were almost comically narrow, hunched up like that.


Brief Cases, Zoo Day, Page 391-392