A hand flew to her shoulder to attempt to stop the bleeding. As calmly as possible, she merely glanced back at the bullet as it came back around. The Hellhound growled and stood firmly in front of Integra, allowing the bullet to sink into it's flesh with little more than a grunt.

Rip's bullet had done a number on the heiress' shoulder, it would most certainly leave a nasty scar in it's wake. She'd never seen bullets like that before. Dropping her hand from her wounded shoulder, she leered up at the huntress. Baskerville snarled, pacing in circles around Integra, prepared to help her out again if needed.

When it came to this fight, even Integra knew this one may have been a lost cause. Integra's bullets were blessed, but they were not at all like the ones Rip had. They'd do damage, and if she hit Rip in the heart, perhaps even kill her... but they most certainly wouldn't come flying back to do more damage. Taking aim one more time, she narrowed her eyes and fired one more time.