But her blizzard hit me like an eighteen wheeler, slamming me across her lawn, though a section of fence, into a car parked at the curb. The whiteout of dancing snow blinded me. Sleet pelted me, rattling off the car behind me. I activated the tribal-style Demon Wings tattooed to the back of my shoulders and my upper back, above the shoulder blades. Paying for the magic felt like taking a spiked mace to the head, but at least it distracted me from my hand, what was left of it.