She had moved most of her valuable tomes out of her shop in Little Five Points. After becoming embraced, living that close to all those Brujah just made her nervous. Even though her Sire was Prince, she still didn’t feel comfortable living in their territory. So she relocated, but kept the shop open because it was still her primary source of income.

Becoming a Kindred had been bad for business, however. Hiring daytime help became a necessity, and that cut into the bottom line. Of course, Hasp didn’t really seem to care about her bottom line any more. Or her, for that matter. All he seemed to care about these days was the damn Princedom. She missed the fun-loving creature that she had prowled the nights with on so many adventures. Running a city just doesn’t seem to leave any time left for adventures.

Of course, becoming a member of the Primogen had taken it’s toll on her as well. She just wasn’t cut out for all this politics crap. And that’s what it was to her, crap. She hated the meetings with a passion. All pent up in a stuffy room, with a bunch of sanctimonious Elders bent on deciding the fate of the other Kindred of the city. What gave any of them the right to make these decisions? What made them so Godlike... All she felt was different these days, and certainly not Godlike.

For heavens sake, she even had enemies now. Some seen and others unseen. Getting set on fire in the middle of the last Elysia had done little to improve her mood. She had redoubled her efforts on her new ritual, but the research didn’t seem to be going anywhere. Little comfort in that either, that with all this new found “power” she still seemed unable to protect herself.

Shaking her head, she attempts to get her mind back into her occult books. But nothing seems to help. Every time she tried to find a new tome, to come up with a new idea, each time she turned around “SHE” was there. And that “SHE” was Emil. God, how she hated her. The lovely Emil, a mere mortal, the one who had captured all of Hasp’s attentions of late, the occultist, the interloper. Ozy had even granted her protection under the Traditions. What could he be thinking? Is he crazy? Why did he need her?

Jealousy was consuming her, and something was going to have to be done. Even if it meant risking her unlife. Her unlife didn’t much mean anything to her any more anyway. She hated what Ozy had made her. She would have been much happier staying a ghoul. But it was too late for that now. Even playing jokes on other Kindred just doesn’t have the same appeal any more. Being the Easter Bunny had seemed like a good idea at the time, but even Ozy had turned his back on her.

She just didn’t really care any more. Maybe Ozy’s enemies would eliminate her first, and thus end this horrible existence of hers. Or maybe she’d figure out this damn ritual and at least have some sense of accomplishment for the first time in months. Or, maybe she’d just have Emil for a late night snack. Suddenly, that last thought brightened her mood a bit.

Maybe something *was* going to be fun again, after all. Well, this would certainly take some planning. Closing her book, she picked up the telephone to begin.