"I shot him because I needed to incapacitate him. I didn't shoot him in the wrist and knee to cause pain, I shot him there because he was a threat until those points were neutralized. We could have pinned him, but he very easily could have been armed and you only gave him a superficial injury. All he'd need to detonate a bomb on himself would be one hand for one second. I wasn't going to take risks with your safety or the civilians'."

And in that, she feels totally justified. It's what came after that was clearly over the line.

She doesn't have an answer for that. Not one she can explain to Daniel, anyway. Not one that would justify what she did, using Daniel to get to her jollies off inflicting pain, dragging him into it.

Maybe she should tell him about dragging herself across the pier back at the Yeerk pool, risking her own son's life to squish the slug that had stolen her. Or about breaking Iniss' nose with a book and how satisfying it was to lord power over one of them, for once. Or about securing dynamite so her son and his friends could kill thousands of people in the downtown. What does Daniel really know about war, anyway?

"I couldn't help myself," she murmurs, then more fiercely, "no. I didn't want to help myself. That brainwashed degenerate and his kind blew up families and children to make a point to us, so no, I didn't want to help myself. I wanted him to hurt."

It made her mad when he didn't hurt.

"I looked at him and I didn't see him, Daniel, I saw, I saw a voluntary host, I saw someone who'd give their body and soul and loved ones and the safety of strangers in exchange for some temporary peace of mind, and I just didn't care if I hurt him."

She swallows hard. "And I didn't care if I hurt you, either. And...that was vile of me. All of it. Vile of whatever's left of me."