Much was left unsaid. Elfleda was a being who felt the need to comment upon everything the least bit relevant. She was, however, the kind of being who could convey a great deal with a well-timed glance. Right now, she was thinking of vindication, for the Slayer was proving her hunter's instinct for what it was and the lust for vengeance, to inflict, was blazing brightly for all the empathic world to see.

But then came the question.

The portal swirled in murky silence and the monochromatic temptress raised forearm, palm turned out as fingers made a slow dance-like movement. Spidery, like a slow-motion scuttle. Then reaching forth, extending to touch upon the mortal's brow. What followed came as a stream of arcane knowledge, spreading out as ripples upon the Lee girl's mental pond. Instinctive knowledge of the right symbols to carve into flesh, the most conducive way to arrange a would-be victim's limbs, the correct things to say...

If the concept of sin truly existed, then stealing another living being's soul away must surely rank as one of the worst.

"I'll take care of the rest," Elfleda mentioned. "Should you wish it..."

And there it was. Possibly the most diabolical weapon of all. One she was handing freely over to one Rhiannon Lee.