That had always been her fucking problem, liking to taunt, to weaken her prey before the kill. Grimwood had once likened her to a Bond villain because of it; he'd spent the next short while growing back three of his digits for his troubles. Danica hadn't exactly been expecting this particular masked fucker to confess to his sins but she hadn't been planning on letting him get away either. He was there one second and gone the next; just another indication that she needed to shoot first and talk later.

The thumping of her heart was so loud. She closed her eyes and let out a breath, opening them back up quickly, fully expecting another attack. Her feet moved of their own accord, in the opposite direction, and pretty soon she was running, freeing a numb hand and clamping it over the bloodiest of her arms.