Bella flinches as though something had just punched her in the stomach: a sudden sharp intake of breath, a slight crunch forward, and a gasp forced out of her. Her teeth clench so hard that it spoils her attempt at a smile into a death grin, and even the attempt at incredulous laughter grinds down against a horrible moaning sigh that won't stop, it won't stop, it just won't stop.

Her entire body trembles with fear. Her forehead slicks with foul smelling sweat. She almost doesn't notice the tear rolling down her cheek from her golden cat's eye. She lifts a hand to cover that entire half of her face, rather than wiping anything away.

"Go fucking figure."

No good. Her legs have turned to marble where she stands. Her heart is pounding so hard it's begun to drown out the sounds of the ship, so determined to cling to life that it might be killing her. Her head is swimming; every breath is choked by the smells of salt and sour wine. Bella cannot in this moment ever remember being more afraid. At least with her Mother there'd been a sad nobility to her last stand, but this was so fucking stupid and pathetic she can't find the anger that fuels her combat potential no matter where inside herself she looks for it. There is only the terror of impossibility.

Fuck you, Artemis. 

"Spend my entire stupid fucking life getting underestimated and stepped on. And the one gods damned time it'd help me I get this. Well. Fuck me, fine. Is this what being respected feels like? Then give me more. I want more!"

Out of nowhere, she starts laughing. Her Auspex locks onto a space above the unicorn (is that a shield? What a novel fucking concept), and in the rush of adrenaline that follows Bella finds her body weighs nothing at all. It's not anger that lifts her into the air, but love. Her family is with her. Her family is against her. Her family needs her. What better cause to fight can there be?

Her legs tense. Her fingers curl, and thick, curving talons grow a full six inches out from her fingertips. Her teeth flash like wicked lightning in the dark. She leaps into the air, flying straight at Vesper. As horrifying a concept as it might have been, right now she was trapped in a war of information. But so what? Show her what you hid up your sleeves when no one was looking, Sister. Does the answer to this obvious response come from the guardian beneath her, or from a new trap? How hard is it going to hit?

If you're so much better than her, you stupid bitch down there, then bring it.