Not waiting for the defective Reaver (Vampire, people here called them.) to regain it's wits, River kept the disfigured face beneath one heel, and stretched the other leg out to drag the knife from it had been dropped into arm's reach. Once the handle was close enough to grasp, she took it, lifted her leg, and rolled back onto the still-dazed form, plunging it through the left atrium.
Dusting the front of her dress off, she took five quick, silent steps around the remaining vampire and the struggle that was keeping it so preoccupied with it's poor balance. She'd seen the thickness of their knecks, and the length of the blade, and deeming it sharp enough, she shoved it through the centre of the snarling throat, pulling it out one way, then bringing it back to sever the other. It burst into dust in her hand, showering the two of them in remains.