She fucking vanished. 

He inhaled sharply, lowering his bow to raise his head, his eyes searching for any sign of movement. Where the fuck did she go? [i]She[/i] hadn't been able to do that. This wasn't the same woman. Wasn't the same nemisis. This was something else. Something powerful. 

The subtle vibrations in the air alerted him to the swing of the sword from behind him. Ducking his head, he felt the blade sever the wood of his bow. No difference, he had always been a lousy shot, anyway. 
Dropping the now-useless pieces of wood and string, he twisted, still crouched, in time to see her recoil away from him. She pointed the blade at him, his blue eyes wandering the undeniably sharp edge mere inches away from him. [i]I'm so close to puncturing your flesh.[/i] Why was everything such a goddamn threat?

He took a moment to study her. Or, at least her armour, seeing as it was all that was visibly. It was dented, scratched, marred. This woman had seen battle, fought for her survival. And won her life, at least. Not sure if he could say the same for what she was fighting for. She wouldn't have set foot here if all was going according to plan. She carried herself well, her body held in a way that reminded him of his brother, who had always had the better form of the two of them.
But the way she'd triggered the alarms around the city. The way she'd vanished and reappeared behind him. The way she could [i]sense[/i] his magic, and knew to keep away from him.
She was a trained fighter [i]and[/i] a magic wielder. 

Breathing slow, controlling his temper, he leered up at her along the edge of her blade. "No." He snarled at her offering no more answer than that. "And you? What sort of unfortunate half-breed are you to be able to move like that?"