Inject again and fight the thing.

It was hardly a choice. She had been used and abused by these things all night. But now that she had the tools to fight them on their terms, she would fight. She wanted the hunter's blood to sing in her. With one hand these time, she plucked an injector and stabbed into her thigh as she regarded the beast. The rush was different this time, she felt a recalling of just moments ago when she injected in the murk in desperation and pain. Her skin prickled as her back stopped bleeding. Warmth returned to her, rushing with the movement of her blood. Her womanhood tightened, as if the combat before her were the same as mating, as a vague erotic thrill went through her, win or get fucked. She opened her stance, holding the torch behind her. The night air soothing to her feverish skin. A mad grin painted her face, this felt too good to let go of. The beast's eye's reflected yellow as a long moment stretched between them.
The beast lunged first, before the tingle of blood had fully left her, and out of some reflex beyond what she knew she was capable of, she stepped back and out of range. The beast slowly lifted the rake and regarded her, this time with more thought behind those beastly eyes than she liked.