"Of course you're not going to tell me." Her nerves betrayed her ever so slightly and she licked her lips, tongue darting out and just brushing the blade, leaving her with a faint taste of steel.

Retreat was not an option; she was fairly sure that it would only provoke him to chase. Or worse. He was mad, after all. No point in asking what he might do, either. There was only to wait in readiness, so she met his gaze and held steady, muscles tense as piano-wire, given away only by a hint of strain in her throat.