The Were girl was well aware of the pain that seemed to radiate throughout her entire body stemming from the blade that was currently embedded within her side. She wanted to cry out. She wanted to scream. But there was that unbreakable spirit within the girl that had her resisting the urge to show her weakness to this girl. She was handling it well, she supposed, this whole having a knife in her side thing. Or at least, she was until the woman had that gleeful smile on her face and the knife twisted inside Edie. The pathetic whimper that escaped the woman couldn't be stopped, and Edie hated herself for it. It was a pitiful noise, one that she was confident she was simply better than making. And yet she couldn't contain the stream of pathetic noises that escaped her lips.

She clenched her jaw then, shaking her head because no, this woman was not going to get her to talk just because of a little pain. Her insistence that she knew nothing was met with that gleeful girl's words, and weakly she spoke. "Piss off, you bloody gi-" The words were cut off from the girl by the way the assassin wrenched the weapon from her side. Why did it always hurt worse to have it removed? Against her will, Edie let out the start of a pathetic yelp before the hilt of the blade was rammed into the side of Edie's temple, and all the girl saw was darkness as her body seemed to give out from under her.

The next thing that the Were was aware of was the sensation of being dragged upwards, though it felt as though she was far away, as though her mind couldn't quite reach her physical form. It took several more minutes of the Were girl fighting through that haze of unconsciousness before she was able to open her eyes. The world was fuzzy, the pain on her temple immediate and nearly blinding. But more importantly, she was well aware of the fact that her arms had been rendered entirely useless. Tugging at her restraints only seemed to increase the bleeding in the painful gaping hole in her side, and within a minute of her consciousness returning to her, the girl merely slumped within that chair.

It was only when the assassin spoke did that spirit seem to return to the British woman, her own eyes narrowing up at the white-haired woman. "Bitch," She hissed, her fingers desperately trying to tug at that tape that was just out of her reach. She was certain that she would be able to escape this, and she surely would not show any sort of fear to the woman - though she certainly felt it. The hunting knife within her hand certainly looked more menacing than the steak knife had, though, and it was that alone that had Edie tempted to comply... or at least feign it.

"Grace," The girl said quietly, focusing those emerald eyes on the wicked witch. The softness of her words was as feigned as the alias that she gave the woman. "My name is Grace, and I told you I don't know anything." Her eyes narrowed at her, the hatred well evident on her features. The girl took a breath, calling the lilt of that persuasion power to her voice. "You won't touch me with that. You will let me go and you will forget that I was here in the first place. Now." She spoke gently, confident that it would work. Her power wasn't foolproof, no. Occasionally, it wouldn't work on a soul. But yet Edie was positive that it would work on the witch that she was so rapidly beginning to hate. "And you will cut yourself with the blade. You will say that all this blood is yours." The girl couldn't control her gleeful smile as she looked up at her. "Now."