Then, silence. She released the feather. It swayed slowly towards the ground, defying the gusting winds beating at Cole and Zafira's faces.

When the angel's feather touched the blood-soaked ground, the symbol she had drawn instantly sprouted flames as if the feather were a lit match and the blood were gasoline. The bright blaze burned with the intensity of Hell itself; rain droplets turned to steam long before reaching the glow. Zafira stood in the flames and held her fist high. She channeled simmering power into her bloody glowing hand. And, with a final abhorrent shout, she slammed her fist into the ground with such force it knocked Cole off...