And so badly she wanted to use her magic against him. Anne pictured Doom's metal mask melting in a boiling metallic mess, into his eye sockets and down his neck - she imagined that emerald cloak bursting into flame - but nothing she pictured came to pass no matter how hard she focused. Clever woman that she was, Anne knew that he had likely bewitched her.

"You'd risk exposing yourself and incurring the anger of an Avenger just to kill me for being petulant? I think not," she snapped. But all the same she did glance to the wooden door frame and start towards it. "So what do you want from me?" She demanded, trying to maintain a haughty exterior even if on the inside she was terrified and praying that Eric would find her and save her.