She watched him, resisting the slight urge to step back from the impending threat of proximity, knowing that there was really nowhere for her to go--and not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cringe. It was odd for Ruby, viewing him from Rebecca's eyes, feeling all of this from the flight attendant's perspective. His presence seemed somehow larger than life from her vulnerable position inside of the devil's trap--but again, that though also belonged to Rebecca, not to Ruby.
She opened her mouth to retort, and wound up gasping as the holy water burned its way her throat like a shot of Baccardi 151, conjuring memories of the first time Becca had tasted hard liquor and it had ripped her throat a new one. Holy-water virgin. Nice. It burned, but the sputtering turned to laughter as Ruby took advantage of Rebecca's shock to come a little closer to the surface. She'd had no choice, really, the way Sammy was intent on dragging her to the fore.
"Not bad, Sammy, not bad," she said, her eyes shifting from blue, to black, then back to blue as she recovered from the splash. "But no. I don't. After all, you and Dean finished me nice and quick. It was nothing compared to the way that I played you," she said, letting her eyes slide over his body. "But go ahead. Take your time. Becca still doesn't have what you want."