The last time Gina had seen the gang's boss, he'd been an unhinged monster, out for blood and sorely lacking a portion of his facial anatomy. To see his face fully restored when he whipped around to glare at everyone in the back of the van was almost more shocking to the young detective than the chilling threat in his expression. Almost. Her stomach turned at the cold burn of his eyes, and she felt an intense and rather gleeful relief that he chose Grendel to focus his attention on, at least for now.<br/><br/>The sudden voice in her ear made Gina gasp in spite of herself - an unxpectedly feminine sound, considering how tough she had built herself up to be over time, and with even more deliberate gusto around this group. They seemed to bring out the worst in her. Or the best, depending on how you looked at it.<br/><br/>Right now, she was looking right at Steiner; or at least at the shadowy impression of him she thought she could pick out through the glass lenses set in the leather of the gasmask. He came off, somehow, like one of those pervs that lurked around the subway steps in search of upskirts - annoying, but not really a danger.<br/><br/>Still, she found herself shifting to discreetly uncross and recross her legs away from him, her hands (one still clutching her gun) on her thighs to keep her skirt down.<br/><br/>"I thought you weren't supposed to be able to smell anything with one of those things on." she observed, eyes narrowing to try to catch a glimpse of him through the smoky glass.<br/><br/>Proper protocol? Her brow furrowed a little, struggling to bring up what she might be walking into. His mention of the Prince made the blood surge hotly through her veins, and had she nob only just shifted positions she would be doing so now.  No real face came to mind, so much as the impression of irresistable, dusky elegance, and the compulsion to do anything in her power to please the Lady.<br/><br/>"I'd rather survive, too," she said slowly, glancing around the van at the dim shapes of the others, resting for a moment on the pale spectre of the Hound. It almost felt a miracle that she wasn't dead already, caught up in the company of such tense predators. Her thumb nervously stroked the underside of her pistolgrip.<br/><br/>"What can I learn to help with that?" she aske quietly, her dark eyes returning to Steiner's lenses to give him what seemed like her full attention, though she kept herself still alert.