Sloan finally pushed enough men away and blasted the wraiths crowding through the doorway. Every round shredded the foremost ranks and several more behind them. Despite the pain in her chest and her side and her head and the exhaustion seeping between her eyes she managed a smile at the unbounded annihilation raining forth onto these so-called embodiments of human misery. What could such creatures do to her? Clair Ibsen and Minneapolis inched closer.

Until a shard of pain impaled her brain like an aneurysm. She staggered back into the counter, her gunfire drooping into the floor before subsiding completely. She pressed a hand to her Soul Gem. It was trembling, she could feel even though the coat.

(Chapter 3)