Better the Devil you know

Once upon a time, she had known the old man well. They were friends, in whatever way prey and predator could be friends. It was easy to welcome him back into her City, to allow him the power that would make him and his little family so comfortable. The war set aside for a moment, she found herself looking forward to the Carpathian's entrance. He was a wonderful ally to have, despite the ties he had managed to make (and break) in Perth, Australia. That, in particular, was one City she had no interest in indulging a kinship with... Not after what they managed to do to her closest companions.

The sleek black limo pulled up to the private airstrip, and out stepped Amy O'Connor, the beautiful Frost Queen. As always, she was dressed in elegant Victorian attire, ruffled skirts and a corset tight around her waist. Her silver hair piled high atop her head and gloves adorned her arms, hiding the unsightly scars that the faerie traitor had set into motion. Immediately, the frosted air chilled, and she sighed softly in relief. Winter in Japan had a way of making her feel comfortable. Nagasaki was, in its entirety, her City, but the cold held a home for her that only Octavian could match. She leaned against the car ever so slightly, awaiting Alec - her very human retainer - to come take her arm. Her husband was at home, making sure all preparations went by without a problem.

After her stepped two others: a seven foot tall giant with a head of wild, eggplant hair, and a tiny monstrosity with sanguine locks and feathers decorating one side of her head. Standing beside each other, Findero Lauden and Aislin Locke looked almost comical. The Malkavian swooped in before the retainer could reach the Prince and offered his arm, which she took with a familiar ease. The Primogen's face had broken out into a wild grin, one that looked too large upon his visage. His eyes betrayed the mania that plagued him. This situation was delectable.

"Now, Aislin," the Prince murmured, motioning for the girl to join her. The Gangrel stepped forward, keeping her gaze down and lips pursed in a thin line. "You may find yourself uncomfortable around these. I ask that you trust my judgement. The eldest, a man named Mikhail de Romanius... He is certain to be suspicious of the welcome, but I expect the trust of my City." She reached out, gingerly stroking the crimson hair of the young woman, unable to stop the soft, affection smile that touched her face. Aislin was something to be hunted down and destroyed, as far as most were concerned. A vampire born of a curse, created by Hellfire... She and her younger sister, Finley, should not exist. Yet, there she was, a beauty that put even her mother - Inuko Locke - to shame.

In position, the four - from left, Alec, Aislin, Amy, Finn - stood to await the landing of the Bombardier. Alec and Amy both maintained their collective calm, and Finn remained absolutely over the moon with excitement. The emotions coming off of little Aislin, however, could easily be mistaken as misgivings. Nervousness, that much was true. She was incredibly nervous. Yet, there was excitement.

For she was soon to see Alexander again.

The door opened to the beautiful creatures, filled with a life that Amy had long forgotten. The Prince herself had been Kindred for so long, and surrounded herself with those of her ilk, that she had almost lost touch with what humanity felt like... and to be presented with something so far beyond that, she felt her heart ache for but a moment. Fear quickly took place of that awe, and if her veins weren't already filled with such ice, they would have frozen over. An elder such as herself so rarely knew fear, but she could recognize the de Romanius family for exactly what they were: hunters, all three of them. Even the pacifistic Hecate could destroy her, should she so wish it.

Forcing herself to swallow the fear, not allowing it to touch her features even once, she stepped forward to greet them. In the process, she left the other three behind, paying little mind. She trusted Finn with her life, something that was quite rare for the elder, and she knew that Aislin and Alec posed no threat to the Carpathians. She planned to welcome them, and her arms even began to slowly sweep up in greeting, when a flash of movement startled her.

Finn moved in the same instance, an arm wrapping around the waist of his Prince and pulling her behind him, as if to protect her. He knew very well that he could take both of the younger creatures down; Hecate and Alexander posed no threat to the monstrous man. Mikhail, however, would die to defend his Life Mate, and the madman felt certain that she would die to protect her son. If he was planning to attack the beautiful Aislin, then Amy would get involved, and before any deals could be made, Nagasaki would flatten. It would be just his luck, after all.

However, the movement was far from aggressive. Instead, Aislin was lifted into the air, a little gasp of surprise parting her lips a single second before Alexander rose to meet her in a kiss. She startled, uncertain, at first, of what to do. It lasted only a moment before, gently, her arms wrapped around his shoulders and she allowed him to hold her. Men had kissed her before, but never had it felt so... alive.

Fingers rose and delicately brushed through his hair. In Germany, the two had spent quite some time together, but never had she expected such an enthusiastic greeting. She pressed herself against him, allowing the moment to extend as long as he wished; in this regard, Alexander had total control.

Amy blinked a few times in confusion, then looked between the pair locked in such a loving embrace, and the parents of the younger mister. It was obvious that she wasn't entirely certain how to respond. It was Finn who finally broke the awkward silence, and his manic laughter filled the air. It was as if he had been told the best joke in the world. Long arms wrapped around his waist and he doubled over. If he needed breath, he would have choked.

"I... Assume these two know each other," Amy murmured, at last, stepping closer to the Carpathians to be heard over the laughter. "Splendid. Less introductions to be made... Mikhail. Mister and Missus de Romanius. Welcome..." The usually calm, well put together Ventrue Prince seemed at a loss for words as she tried to figure out what, exactly, was going on. "I, ah... I came to... invite you to my home. I hold Elysium within the walls of my manor... My husband is... preparing you all a place to stay, as well..."

Forgiving young master Alexander was far easier for Amy than it had ever been before. Looking at the two, wrapped up as they were, she couldn't help but remember her own Love, her husband waiting at home for her. Octavian greeted her just as enthusiastically after extended absences and it always made her heart soar. A soft smile crossed her face, the kind that would have never been present before her marriage, and she tilted her head to one side. "Of course, Mikhail," she murmured, waving her hand loosely from side to side. "There is nothing to forgive."

She turned her focus back to the old Carpathian, Finn still standing between her and any possible threats, and gave a nod. While she wished Octavian could meet the others, she understood his softly spoken words. She expected the conversation had the possibility of being unpleasant, however, and what she recalled of Hecate promised that she would be most uncomfortable if things did not go smoothly.

"Of course, I understand. Know that both of you are welcomed, whenever you'd like. Aislin," she spoke the name a bit more firmly than her other words, capturing the attention of the redhead still clinging to the man that kissed her. "Do be careful. Alec will return to the manor, and I'm certain Mister Lauden has other affairs to attend to." She nodded, enthusiastically, though the eggplant haired Primogen seemed less than pleased.

"If you would like, Mikhail, my retainer Alec can drive us to the manor now. The others will be safe within the limits of my City. Octavian is waiting for us, after all." Before she even managed to finish speaking, the youthful retainer made his way towards the door of the black limousine, opening it wide to show the comfortable, spacious interior. Amy O'Connor had a particular fear of motorized vehicles, and the overly large car was no exception, but she had done her best to make it as familiar as she possibly could. "I do hope you do not mind the cold."

The others went their separate ways as they were instructed, leaving only the frosty silver haired Prince and the older Carpathian standing there in front of the car, the door still held open by young mister Alec. Trained in patience by both of the O'Connors, he would stand there all night if it were required of him. Mikhail made his way into the spacious limo, leaving Amy standing there for a moment in stunned silence. She wasn't quite used to people acting as if she had no authority; even before her Embrace, she was known as Christian Sorel, and that alone earned her the reverence of those that surrounded her.

Giving a shake of her head, she moved in after him, careful not to sit beside him. She moved the layers of her skirt around her legs until she was comfortably seated, those ice blue eyes focused on the man she had known so long ago. Before Lunaria had gone up in flames, Mikhail and her father had known each other quite well, both being active in the DeMorieve family affairs. Of course, she was often shielded, considered too valuable to tarnish.

The moment the door closed behind her, the temperature began its slow climb. For so many years, the faerie curse had plagued her, freezing her skin and the air all around it. Amy was such a cold creature that trying to be in the water often resulted in ice. Sitting in such an enclosed location, it was only a matter of time before they would be able to both see their breath like a fog.

"Would you like a drink while we travel, Mikhail?" she asked, motioning towards the cooler Alec had packed before they left. She was not quite an avid drinker and knew very little about alcohol, but her retainer had trained himself to fulfill the positions she was less talented at. He never wanted her to seem like a fool. Her fingers delicately danced across the top as she waited for his response. "I assume you would like to save the unpleasantness for a more secured location?"

A brow cocked and she glanced at Alec. Her ears and hers alone? While she didn't know the overconfident man nearly as much as she led some people to believe, she understood business and politics. Whatever it was that he wanted to talk about must be serious and she felt the well-trained muscles in her lithe frame tightening, coiling, as if preparing for a fight. Unlike many of her undead brethern, however, she rarely fought in the physical sense. Instead, she kept things civil.

"I am sure you understand that anything you and I discuss will be kept in total confidence, so long as that confidence does not extend to my husband," she told him in fluent French, as comfortable with the language as she was with English and Lunarian both. The latter, her home tongue, she would have preferred, but she couldn't recall if the Carpathian had learned the language before it had died, along with every other from her homeland. "Marriage is a sacred thing, after all, and I will not keep secrets from Octavian."

She expected Mikhail of all people would understand that. If her memory served correct, Carpathian mates were unable to hide anything from each other. Their minds were linked, though she could not recall the intricacies of the process. Hecate, his beloved wife, was sure to know everything that they discussed, as soon as they discussed it.

Amy held out a gloved hand for the paperwork he had freed from his jacket, curiosity brimming. The last time she had received such a large stack of information, Queen Anne, the leader of the Ventrue Clan in its entirety, had "requested" her husband's presence for an extended stay in London, England, where she would personally train him to be the next Justicar, after her own father. A sense of nervousness touched her, despite everything.

When they knew each other before, many years passed, Amy had flinched violently any time a man that was not her intimate lover - at that time, a Malkavian by the name of Vindelo - attempted to touch her. Soon after the curse befell her and began to scar her skin, she had refused to allow it at all. Yet, as Mikhail took her hand, she did not attempt to move away from him, nor did she seem uncomfortable. Her hand remained limp and welcoming as he handed her the documents that offered her complete control of Asia in its entirety.

As he spoke, she brought the stack of papers to be examined, looking over everything that was written with the trained quick wit known to the Sorel family. Some habits, after all, died hard. She offered him a nod of understanding, though fear struck her heart. With this, he could break every aspect of the precious Masquerade she held so dear to her heart. He could force the entirety of the Kindred population into simultaneous frenzy, turning her beloved Camarilla against itself. Her body chilled further, lips tinting with blue, as the fear gripped her dead, un-beating heart; the temperature in the car dropped noticeably, their breath visible and frost touching the windows.

Amy understood the power that rested in the old Carpathian's hand in a way she knew her husband might not. He was one of the Kindred that relied solely on blood bags, but the Clan curse forced him to drink particular vitae to survive. Should a shipment of non militarized blood come in, he would be dead before dawn. Her gloved fingers twitched violently, the only other giveaway to her discomfort, as she turned to look at the man once more.

Continuing with the French, she asked him softly, "Does this gift come at a price, Mister de Romanius?" As deeply ingrained as her father's training was, a less perceptive individual would be unaware of the emotion racing through the rather small Ventrue, but she understood that he would feel it, nearly taste it on the freezing air. Still, she could not let the facade of complete calm fall from her face.