catches Lightning

A bolt of purple lightning came down out of the haze like the hammer of God and struck Mab squarely.
There was a flare of light so intense that I staggered and fell, dropping to a knee and barely staggering up again before the Sidhe warriors behind me trampled me to death. There’s a reason he fell became synonymous for he died. Losing your feet on a battlefield is an all-but-certain death sentence.
Blinking my eyes against the dazzling leftover image of the lightning bolt, I saw Mab’s slender body arch into a bow, curling around the spot where the lightning had struck her, her long, thin-fingered hands clenched around a ball of white-hot light, the edges of her nails blackening and smoking with the heat. Then, with a banshee wail of pure, terrifying scorn, she straightened again and sent the bolt of lightning raging ahead of the unicorn, plowing an even wider and more fearfully murderous path through the enemy ranks, blasting a burial-deep furrow in the earth as she went.
Hell’s bells.
I gave myself a stern reminder not to piss her off.

Battle Ground Chapter 27, Page 252