The words were out before I could stop them, but she merely laughed. It wasn't a sane sound, but that was no surprise.

"Because of the way I kill them? Believe me, I'm only doing to them what they did to my husband, to Jessica, and to my daughter."

"I don't care how you kill the vampires." Which was a lie, because no person, whether human or nonhuman, deserved to die the way those vampires had died-even if they had been the most brutal vampires ever to walk this earth. Which none of these had been.

Of course, I don't deny sometimes wishing a more brutal death on some of the bastards we hunted, but wishing and doing were two extremes that were never going to meet. And the guardian who did sink to the "eye for an eye" mode of thinking soon found himself out the door and on the most-wanted list.

"Then why do you think me a monster?" She picked up the canister and added several pinches of white powder to her mix. There was a flash, like a small explosion, and suddenly the dark, foresty scent was gone. In its place was a fouler, stronger scent that reminded me of the muck the zombie had thrown at me.

But why would she try and freeze me again if she already knew it didn't work? Or was this stuff stronger than the last mix?

God, I hoped not. I might only be half free, but at least I could defend myself if worse came to worst. If that stuff actually worked, I'd be in real trouble.

Like I wasn't already.

"You're a monster because of what you did to your daughter. Because you didn't kill her but instead bound her."

She frowned at me. "She was dead already. I bound her before the change, so what is the problem?"

She didn't get it. She really didn't. What a stupid, stupid bitch. "Binding a body doesn't stop said body from taking the change and rising as one of the undead. It just stops them moving out of the grave or communicating with their maker for help. What you've done is ensure your daughter a living hell of unlife in a coffin, with no hope of escape." I shook my head in contempt. "How could you not know that?"

And I guess it was yet another mess the Directorate would have to clean up. Although whether the daughter would actually be sane enough to rescue after years of being locked underground was another matter entirely-and not one that I'd have to decide. Thankfully.

There was a shocked silence, followed by a vehement, "No!"

"Yes," I spat back. "You would have been better off to stake her from the start."

She stared at me for several long minutes, then shook her head. "I don't believe you."

"Then go to her grave, Hanna. See for yourself."

"I have no need to, wolf." Her voice was flat. She refused to believe she could be wrong, that she could have doomed her daughter to a fate far worse than vampirism. "I know you're only lying to try and save yourself."

I didn't know how lying about her daughter's fate would actually do anything to save myself, but she obviously wasn't thinking clearly, so there was no point in saying anything else.

She walked over to the shelving and picked up a more ornate knife and another larger container, then walked back to the table. She exchanged the knife for the smaller bowl then walked across to where I lay. Luckily for me, she chose the right side rather than the left, and didn't notice I had one hand free.

Not that it would do me any good at the moment, because she simply wasn't close enough.

She placed the larger bowl on the floor, shifting it several times until she was satisfied, then rose and looked at me. "Don't you wonder how I'm about to kill you?"

I snorted softly. "Lady, dead is dead, no matter which way it comes at you."

Besides, she'd already told me she was going to bleed me. It said a lot about her state of mind that she couldn't actually remember that.

"That, I'm sorry to say, is very true."

She didn't look sorry. She looked positively ecstatic. She raised the smaller bowl and scooped her fingers inside, gathering a handful of the powder before throwing it down the length of my body. It took every ounce of control I had not to react, not to show my hand just yet. Truth was, she still wasn't close enough. I just had to hope the dust didn't do its stuff as well as it was supposed to.

The thick cloud settled around me, clogging my eyes and making my nose twitch. And it smelled even fouler than before. My body began tingling even as my muscles seemed to relax and feel oddly weak. Like before, only worse. I twitched my fingers, wriggled my toes. Response was slow, but it was there, at least for the moment. I had to hope it remained that way.

She grabbed another handful and threw it over me again. The tingling increased, and deep down, the wolf bared her teeth and roared to life. Her strength infused me, battling the sleepiness creeping over my body, keeping it at bay if not away altogether.

"If you have any questions, you'd better ask them quickly. It's a much stronger formula this time." Her voice was conversational-like we were best friends rather than mad sorceress and intended victim. "You taught me that this powder doesn't work as well on humans and other nonhumans as it does vampires, so I guess its better to be safe than sorry."

I could only hope she was wrong about the strength of the formula. But I asked my questions quickly, just in case she wasn't. "Did Jessica tell you she sent one of her creatures after the street kid?"

"She was in the room when that blackmailing little bastard rang. Personally, I would rather have taken care of him myself."

I bet. "Then the business cards you gave the teenagers were infused with some form of tracking magic?"

"Of course. How else would I have known exactly where to transport myself?"

She gave me a serene sort of smile, then turned away and walked back to the table. I twitched my extremities again, and was relieved to discover that everything that should wriggle did. The mix might be stronger, it might make the tingling fiercer, but it still wasn't completely freezing me. Which made me wonder if the mix was wrong, or whether the fact that I was a half-breed was fouling the reaction.

She returned carrying the knife. I didn't move, just watched her. To have any sort of chance against the woman, I needed her to get closer. Needed to grab that knife and use it against her flesh rather than mine.

She grabbed my right arm and pulled it away from my body. The arm was numb, so it flopped around like so much dead flesh, and she made a satisfied sound in the back of her throat. I held my tongue and didn't say anything, hopefully giving her the impression the powder had done its work and stolen the power of speech.

With my arm positioned on its side and presumably over the bowl, she clasped the ornate silver knife with both hands and raised it above her head.

Fear slithered through me. The mad bitch was going to cut off my arm. Why else would she need that much leverage to cut flesh? A quick slice along the forearm from the wrist was all it took to get a decent bleed-and yeah, werewolves were tough, but we still had skin like a regular human, not a rhinoceros.

She began to murmur, the words incomprehensible. Maybe it was sorcerer talk, maybe it was a prayer in some old language. I didn't really care, because my attention was on the gleaming knife being held above my body. I'd get only one chance at stopping that knife. Once she realized I was partially free, she'd no doubt either knock me out or kill me, and I wasn't overly thrilled with either option.

She continued to murmur and tension wound through me, tightening my muscles and making my stomach ache. The pain in my shoulder seemed to have retreated, but not the numbness. It was now creeping outward, reaching toward my neck. If I didn't remove the bullet soon, I'd be in real trouble.