After hearing that the dragon couldn't even breathe fire, Mallory rolled her eyes. "Then what exactly is the fucking point of you if you can't just roast a slayer?! What are you, Puff the Magic Bartender?" 

Fortunately for her, the vampire seemed to have taken care of the slayer for the moment being. Mallory desperately hoped that the dragon was heading over to help the vampire gut and kill the slayer -- there was no reason to leave the human alive. And perhaps she had knocked for him a few minutes ago -- she tried not to pay attention as to who she was knocking for. It ruined the surprise.

"Hi, bitch," a dark and masculine voice whispered behind her ear. Instantly, a cold and sharp, yet fiery, pain burst through her body. Mallory screamed as her human form faded away, and the blade remained inside of her. [i]Fucking hell, it's iron![/i] Writhing on the floor in pain, she felt another knife enter her, and dimly, she could make out what seemed to be a dozen more hunters entering the bar. 

Desperately, she wanted to fight back -- yet the iron rendered her completely powerless. She looked up into the rugged mug of her attacker, and she fell still, attempting to play dead.

It worked.

He removed the blade and chuckled, standing up. "Now, who's next?" the new slayer sneered.

"You are, asshole," Mallory growled, attempting to shove him into a wall. Instead, her powers went haywire, and the lights in the bar went out. Thuds could be heard all around as the hunters dropped to the ground, momentarily dead. They wouldn't remain so for long.

"Can you fucking breathe fire now?!" Mallory growled, her eyes glowing a fierce red underneath her damned cloak.