Perhaps ignorance is truly bliss.

The thought made her laugh out loud. If only her sire could hear her now, a Tremere who thought ignorance was bliss. He would have punished her for a week... if he were alive.

She folded her arms across her against the chill wind that had settled on her city, or perhaps in resignation. Her long, open-backed evening gown whipped in time with the whistle that filled her ears.

My city.

At one time, the thought had been comforting; thrilling, even. Now it hung on her like a yolk. She thought that if she still had breath, the weight of that thought might crush it from her lungs.

I failed you, Xavier. But then, we have all failed, haven't we?

In truth, her sire would have been proud if he could see her, and the irony of a Tremere as the Prince of Salem would amuse him for nights on end. Here, where so many witches and warlocks had met their end at Bacon's pyres, a practitioner of the Blood Arts ruled the night. But then he had chosen her because she was ambitious and clever.

Ambition expires. Cleverness accomplishes only so much.

She wondered what the rest of the directorate was doing now. Bickering, no doubt, about who should have the seat on the Primogen's council. They could bicker all they wanted. By dawn it would be of no consequence.

She uncrossed her arms as she heard the glass door slide open, wiping the troubled expression from her face as Uriah scurried to stand next to her on the precipice.

Better not to alarm him.

She smiled as he tried to offer her a cloak against the icy air but did not take it, refraining with a small shake of her head. Why did she insist on such petty self torture?

Because that which does not kill us makes us stronger. Fates know I'll need my strength tonight.

"But your skin is so cold, Mistress..." Uriah's brow furrowed in honest concern.

"As it has been for two hundred years, Uri... and no garment can change that." She smiled at him, warmly and genuinely.

He almost frowned, but he knew she was right. The cold that bit in to his exposed face would be little more than an annoyance to her. He folded the cloak over his arm, and looked out over the city as well before speaking.

"They will siege the city tonight..." He paused, and when she made no sound, added, "What will you do?"

Her answer was a long time coming - so long he began to wonder if she would answer at all, or if he had offended her. But finally, her voice broke the sound of the whistling wind.

"I will let them have it."

Her answer took him by surprise, and he could find no words though every part of him puzzled.

Poor Uri. You betrayed me - all of us - and you don't even know it. And yet... you have freed me.

She looked down the sixty stories to the garden house roof, watching the moon's reflection appear briefly from behind the clouds. She thought of the citizens of her Court. Some had received a warning - short, simple, incomplete.

"Take that which is important to you, and be gone from my city by the stroke of midnight."

Would they listen? She could no longer concern herself. Ten, perhaps twenty had been told to leave. The rest would meet their judgment tonight.

They will expect me to save them. As if anything really could.

Uriah finally found his voice, though it shook - perhaps out of fear, or confusion, or perhaps it was only the chill. Leah tried not to think about it. "Where will we go, Mistress?"

Leah considered her answer carefully. "I think I will go to Europe. I have never seen it, but my grandmother was born in Bristol. Perhaps I shall go there for a while."

He only nodded and looked back out into the dark night. She let several moments pass, then turned her head to him. "What do you serve, Uri?"

He cast a puzzled look to her. "I serve only you, my Mistress."

She afforded him a smile. He spoke the truth. "And what do I serve, Uri?"

He puzzled further. "You serve the kindred of this city, and the Council of Seven in Vienna." He paused, worried.

She afforded another smile, full of forgiveness this time and accompanied by a slow shake of her head. "No, I serve only myself. For two centuries, I have served only myself and those like me."

And in self-service lies the path to madness. Or worse.

He frowned and stepped to her, shaking his head. "Oh no, Mistress - you mustn't say such things..." He wanted to add more, but didn't know what to say. He didn't truly understand what she meant, only that her self-chastizing tone saddened him.

She smiled softly, accepting his arm. "You would make me a saint, Uri, even when you know I am a devil."

He frowned. She tried not to.

They stood there for several moments, both lost in their own thoughts until the grandfather clock in the parlor began to sound the arrival of midnight. She lifted her head and watched the horizon for the first signs. Only minutes passed before she saw it. On the far edge of the city, the Klarion building leapt alive in flames. She turned to look at her ghoul's face, become white as paste.

So you see your craftsmanship now, and still you do not know it is yours.

"They have begun attacking the city... shall I alert the elders?"

Faithful, steadfast Uri - You still think I have told them about the siege.

She smiled a little sadly. "No."

He looked to her, confusion etched into his features.

My poor Uriah - you don't even know what they've done to you. They watch me through your tear-filled eyes.

She smiled one last, sorrowful smile to him before she pushed him from the ledge.

When the shattered glass of the atrium settled, she watched the crimson teardrop that fell to meet him.

Better to break your neck than your heart. I will miss you.

A moment later she leapt across to the next rooftop, slipping quickly down into the parkade. The attendant met her with a smile. "Will you be requiring your car, Miss Hague?"

She tried her best to smile. "Yes, please."

She looked out the rose tinted glass as she waited. Would the rest of the chantry house hear the shattering of the glass? Would they rush to see what had made the sound? They would keep Uri alive with their blood and incantations to question him, and not even give a thought to his agony.

I won't let them, Uri. This much I promise. You will have the rest that should have been yours long ago.

She closed her eyes, her lips whispering words whose origins were forgotten by most. When she opened them again, Uri's body began the fire that would consume the building before the night was passed.

She turned her head as she heard the hum of an engine approaching, whispering her last good-byes aloud. "May your soul find peace, my dearest friend."

She smiled to the attendant as she slipped behind the wheel of her Lexus, it's darkened interior consoling her little.

As she drove out of the city, she stopped to look back at the fires that now took several of the towering buildings.

They will blame it on the siege.

She frowned at herself.

And I will let them.

The young girl smiled as she produced the plane tickets, despite the older woman's grim expression. "One way to London, ma'am, layovers as you requested. Are you sure you want all these redeye flights?"

Leah nodded, looking over the itenerary. "Yes, thank you."

"Any baggage?"

The question made Leah smile.

Yes... about two hundred years worth.

"No, just a carry-on."

The girl straightened and smiled again. "All checked in - you had better hurry, ma'am - the 411 takes off in twenty minutes"

Leah quietly thanked her and quickly made her way to the gates, stopping to pick up a newspaper on the way. When she finally settled into her seat, she was glad she'd bought out the entire row. She opened the paper to view the headlines.

"Salem Burns Again"

She closed the paper and laid it on the seat next to her with a quiet sigh. As the plane took off into the night sky, she closed her eyes and wondered at the state of her city.

No, not my city anymore. Maybe it never really was.