My name is Veronique DuMars, and I am a traitor.

I have always been a traitor, though I never wanted to be. I just want to go home.

I write this because soon it will all end, one way or another, and I want some record to exist of why I did what I did, why I am what I am, and why I will do what I have planned. This is for my packmates, who I was created to betray , yet have come to love more than I can say, though I will try. Later.

First I must speak of how I came to be what I am. I was Embraced forty years ago in New Orleans by a monster that kidnapped me from my bedroom. I became LaSombra that night. This much I have already told my packmates, yet much more remains. My sire was Lasombra, but antitribu, dedicated to bringing down the Sabbat and reestablishing the rigid control the clan had in the dark ages. It was he who made me join the Sabbat, a player in a long-term plot to destroy the sect. He told me that if ever I resisted, failed, or even gave less than perfect service, he would wipe out every member of my family before my eyes, before consuming my blood and soul.

I was positioned to be recruited into one of the Sabbat's elite packs, it didn't matter much which one. The Magnificent Seven happened to be the ones who found me, atop a pile of dead Camarilla ghouls and neonates. They assumed me to be a great warrior, and one of their number took me under his wing. In time, when one of their number died, I became a full member of the Seven. When the old leader, Pyotr, died and left his childe command, my masters in the Camarilla were furious. Their plan called for me to lead the pack to a carefully organized series of triumphs, until finally I attained a high position within the sect. At that point, I would feed the Camarilla all the information it needed to bring down the Sabbat in North America, and eventually in Mexico. Denied its greatest holding, the Sabbat would soon degenerate into bands of roving Anarchs, of no real consequence. Only as Pack leader could I do this, so they ordered me to challenge Janus, and threatened to kill my niece, then only ten years old, should I fail.

I failed. They made good on their threat.

Since then I have fed them whatever information they have asked me for, and could not hesitate. Until now. Now the Camarilla demands that I help their Justicar, Peter Swift, organize a trap to destroy my pack. Apparently, there was something in Powtanville worth changing their grand scheme. But I find I cannot. Though I still care for my family, they are too distant now. I have not seen my sisters in decades, and they may well be dead. My nieces and nephews are now approaching middle age, yet I have never seen them.

The Sabbat has also become important to me. I have seen first hand the dangers the Elders pose and the trap they have laid for us all in the Camarilla. But my pack is the real reason for my forthcoming defiance. For my pack has become my family. I have tried to keep distant, to be nothing more than a coworker, but they have sucked me in. They are family. Janus is my father, Jeff is my strange and funny uncle. Tariq, Jessy and Bubba are my siblings.

Simon is my heart.

Yes, Lunatic, if you are reading this, I can finally tell you that I love you. I think. I love your fire, your devotion and genuine faith in our sect. I love your razor wit, though I hate the way you target me, as if you sense my treasonous nature. I love your wildness and unpredictability, though your madness frightens me. I pray that one day you will be able to forgive me, even if you never love me. I pray that this does not harm you too much, my Mad Love. That would have been my nickname for you, in a better world.

Why you may ask do I write this now? Because my packmates are playing into their enemies hands! The Justicar Swift expected them to hit the Lupines first, which is why he sent out DelaForge to 'hunt' Tariq. The Toreador did not know he was meant to be killed, so that his killer could be followed back to his lair. Then Swift would carefully lead the Lupines to the slaughterhouse, and they would destroy us all.

For my own life I fear not, for the Ventrue has assured me that the plan has merely been altered. I believe him, if only because he could have done it all without my knowledge.

So I must speak. The Toreador has agreed to join our Sect, and though for now his commitment is shaky, I believe the news that his Elders sent him out to die will strengthen it. So the Magnificent Seven will not be shorthanded after my execution, and may yet prevail. Swift won't act yet, it will take at least two nights for him to be ready. Then he will lead the wolves to your door, and later come in with his force to wipe out whoever survies. Personally, I would shore up our defenses, and contact the chief of the police, who I have blood bound to the pack- I used the blood from the Vaulderie so he is bound to all of us. All of you. Experience shows that the changers have a masquerade of their own. A 'routine stakeout' of our lair, 'a suspected cult meeting place', should deter them long enough for you to find a way to triumph. I believe in you all.

I go now to tell the others the truth, and pray that they are merciful enough to kill me quickly.

Before that however let me say my personal goodbyes:

Janus, you were the best leader I could ever hope for. You were better than I could ever be, and respect you more than anyone- bar one.

Jeff, I can see you labor under some great burden now. Do not worry; you have more inner strength than any one else, and the pack would be lost without your great good humor and ability. Recover quickly, Blue Blood, the others will need you soon.

Tariq, you are wise and brave. Jessy you are warm and knowledgeable. May you both know the eternal happiness you so richly deserve.

Bubba, you are like a little brother. There are times I treasure your company more than anyone else's, and other times in which I have to restrain myself from tearing your heart out. Of all Panders, I have met many who clamor loudly for respect, but you are the only one I know of to deserve it.

Simon, I love you. If you ever want to know how I really feel about you, simply think of all the insults I have used on you. Now think of their exact opposites. With one exception, that is how I feel (Sorry my love, but you ARE crazy). You have been the only thing that kept me from ending my unlife long ago. Were it not for you, I would leave a note explaining my treason and flee. But I value your opinion of me, and want you to at least be able to say that I died well. I doubt I should write this, but as I will never have a chance to say it, here it is in Enochian: Karta Rzulkii Traskkshh(1).

If you would, save my decapitated corpse, and burn me with Swift. A bit of poetic justice I think.

My name is Veronique DuMars and I am a traitor. But now I betray my enemies for my friends.

A/N

Bet no one saw that coming huh?

(1)The 'Enochian' means:' You have a great ass' in a language I just made up.