Cute. All that finesse and maybe twenty wraiths dead. Sloan had to grant her she looked fine doing it, but let's be real now, shall we? She summoned her own gun, letting it maintain its full weight so she at least looked like she exerted some effort while doing this. She stepped from behind the ambulance, perfectly unnoticed by the wraiths as they stared in Tomay's direction. With their defenseless backs turned toward her, Sloan revved her gun and fired.

Blam blam motherfuckers. Her light tore through them. It disintegrated their ascetic robes and the misshapen bodies behind them. Ten, twenty, thirty wraiths fell in moments as she raked the spray through them. As the rest of the horde realized the new threat and started to turn toward her, she strafed toward the next parked ambulance, avoiding the beam attacks by mere nimbleness. She only ended her fire and allowed her gun (and her magic) a rest once she reached cover.

(Chapter 35)