“The others?” Lisette stared at Ava, torn between the need to kill her only witness and the desire to share her exploits with a willing audience.

"How many were there?” Ava asked, trying to sound eager.

"Five,” the murderess whispered gleefully. “This week! Silly, small people are so emotional. So easy to read, to manipulate. I just become what they want me to become--”

"Like with him?” Ava nodded to the slumped figure at their feet.

“Exactly. He wanted a poor, lost, demure girl--one he would be thrilled to overtake--and so I gave that to him. I gave him the hunt.” She twisted Ava’s wrist for emphasis. “I can put on any face I want.” With the shadows sliding across her face and the ferocity in her eyes, the woman looked practically demonic. “Of course, that damned American got me caught,” she added with a furious glance down the corridor. Ava wondered whether her grandfather had known the truth about Lisette when he’d foiled her plans.

“Then it's a good thing I came along."