It was all Caiaphas could do to NOT draw his cold iron dagger and slam it into her considerable chest. "I. Had. Been. Working. Towards. It."<br/><br/>He would have gone on, but he suddenly realized something was missing.<br/><br/>He spontaneously knew how to kill ANYTHING once he had met it, though that plan would improve the longer he knew the person and the more he learned about them. These 'plans' weren't always possible to preform, but were more an instinctive understanding how best to kill something. The Summer Queen, for example, would best be killed by a cold iron slug enchanted with anti-magic fired from four miles distant at the fall equinox. The Lord Death, a (if not The) god of death, was best killed by killing everything else, including himself. Aurelia would be killed by at least a dozen dragon slaying claymore mines hidden in her hoard, with another bomb in the ceiling to collapse the cave on her, all set to go off at the same time. To kill the creature currently taunting him, 'all' he had to do was draw his cold iron sword, activate an anti-magic field, and then stab her in the gut, rotate the blade so the edge faced upward, and then rip it up and out through her shoulder, before reversing the blade and taking her head off with the back hand strike.<br/><br/>But the second he tried to calm himself by thinking how to kill 'Leanansidhe,' the plans vanished. There was a blank spot in his head where the plans normally were, and that fascinated him with the implications. The only other times that had happened had been when he was younger, the most notable ones being when he had idly wondered how best to kill Hitler, and later Judas, and more as intellectual exercises than anything else. But it had also happened when he had imagined a couple contemporary politicians, and as best he could tell, it occurred when he had not actually seen or met the person. He needed to see their eyes, and body doubles or impersonators did NOT count. Or maybe that he had met, but couldn't differ from the fakes. He had a hard time being sure through testing back home, what with the lack of magic.<br/><br/>He looked up, an eerie, feral glow in his gaze, and looked 'Leanansidhe' right in the eyes. "Leanansidhe?"<br/><br/>He waited, seeing if a plan, any plan, was going to spring up. He could have sworn he had looked her in the eyes before, but he had to be sure. If no plan came to mind, this was NOT Leanansidhe, but either a double, or more likely a puppet.