Tanks soulfire

I strode forward through the fog, closing the distance on Tessa so that I could get her in sight again before she recovered and started maneuvering on me. In a perfect world, I would have found her frozen into a block of bitterly cold Winter ice—but she was a sorceress, and not a dime-store amateur, either. As I came in sight through the fog, I saw her stumbling back, her foremost insect-arms crossed in a defensive gesture, her image blurry on the other side of a C-shaped wall of ice that had not quite managed to engulf her entirely.
I gestured with the staff and snarled, “Forzare!”
The frozen wall exploded into chunks and shards of knife-edged, crystalline ice, as deadly as a cloud of shrapnel. She tried to fling herself to one side, but stunned by the intensity of the attack, she didn’t account for the ice-coated tile floor beneath her legs—floor that provided me with footing as sure and solid as a basketball court. Insect legs skittered wildly, and the ice tore into her chitin-covered body, sending splatters of dark green ichor everywhere, even as the mantis-head half slithered up over her human face, swallowing it down again. Hotly glowing green eyes opened above the insectoid mantis-eyes of Tessa’s demonform, blazing with immortal rage, and as the swirling mists closed around them, the eyes of Tessa’s patron Fallen angel were all that I could see of her.
“Hey, Imariel!” I snarled. “I got some for you, too! Fuego!”
As I spoke the words, I hurled the fusion of my will and elemental flame through my staff, imbuing the spell that ran through it with the silver-white fire of Creation itself. A basketball-sized comet of blazing soulfire soared through the air like a chord of triumphant choir music and detonated upon those glowing eyes in thunder and fury, in steam and even more mist. The eyes vanished in time with a teakettle scream of hellish fury and a thunderous crash of shattering brick from the far end of the building.

Skin Game Chapter 18, Page 128-129


“It’s not as if you frighten me, Dresden. Lying well takes a lot of effort, and it gets old after a few centuries. Mostly I don’t bother.” He nudged Harvey’s shoulder with the toe of his shoe. “But someone went to a lot of effort to get this done. Did it fast. Got out just as fast.”
“Where’s Deirdre?” I asked.
“She was supposed to be chasing her mother away after you bloodied her nose for her.” He knelt down on the floor beside Harvey and then leaned closer, inhaling through his nose like a hound. “Nngh.” He considered for a moment. “Too much fresh blood and damned ghoul stench. Can’t get anything through it.” He looked up at me. “What about you?”

Skin Game Chapter 19, Page 137