I don't know how this is going to end. I don't know how this is going to change. I don't know how this is going to feel, but everything comes down to this.

I climb from the passenger seat of the Lincoln, the feeling of Tommy's cold lips on my forehead quickly replaced by the sting of frigid wind. Scanning the darkened grounds of the park and seeing no one, I make my way to the top of the hill. A single bench juts from cracked concrete, and I hop onto it, sitting on the back of it with my boots resting on the seat. From my vantage point, the harbor is a black, undulating mass, lapping at the sea wall with each gust. A peek at my phone tells me I have at least an hour before my company will show up, unless they're here already, unseen. Unconcerned, I wrap my arms around my knees, staring down at my bare skin as if waiting for goosebumps to appear. A glance at the gold inscribed knife handle sticking from the top of my boot sends a shockwave of pain through my already bruised chest. I reach down and graze it with my fingertips, concentrating for a moment and feeling the same sorrow and despair from Sailix's memory. I pull my hand away, flinching.

Picking up the sound of activity, I cock my head towards the east side of the park. The sound is human, moving away as if subconsciously repelled by the monster in their midst. Paranoid, sending a stream of thought towards the street, I make sure Tommy is safe and undisturbed in the Lincoln. Fear of leaving him without my protection overwhelms any apprehension I have to bringing him along with me. My gut churns nervously in anticipation for tomorrow night's meet. Having him near so many potential enemies. Having him near...I cut off that train of thought with a shudder, fearful that even thinking his name is an omen.

But here you are, guard dog. Recruiting for the devil.

The words echo in my thoughts, the voice guttural, tainted with evil and only vaguely feminine. I press my forehead against my knees, closing my eyes against any visions or apparitions that may come along with the voice.
"I have to do this. More people will die if I don't, than if I do."
The voice laughs at me, just like she has so many times before.

What if you die, little guard dog? Little wraith? Who will be first to claim your soul? He knows your name, remember?

"Tommy won't let that happen." 
But, how many times can I expect him to save me? How long can I expect him to keep his word? What makes Tommy any different from every other person who has promised to love me, just to abandon me once they see the true cost of their affections. Beneath my closed eyes, there's an empty bedroom rife with the smell of cinnamon and clove, a tear stained letter, a pile of ash.

And yet you're willing to sacrifice the few that are left.

Whimpering, I push my right hand from my chest with my left, sheathing my claws and trying to heed Tommy's command to not hurt myself anymore.
"If we all work together...I can make sure to keep all of them safe. This doesn't have to be a death sentence. I can fix this. I can protect them."

Like you protected Alex? Like Sailix? What about Marina...like you protected her?

Fresh grief tears at my insides, and I relent and open my eyes to my accuser. She stands before me, a corrupted doppelganger whose black, gaping reflection stares back at me in every mirror I look into. Her arm is held aloft, spots of rot staining her flesh. Her index finger and thumb point at me in a sideways 'L'. She cocks her thumb, the trigger, and I cringe back from the gunshot shattering the silence. I see Marina falling back from me on the bed, a dark hole punched between her eyes. Her face suddenly inanimate before a wave of Tommy's hand dissolves her corpse into something less than dust. My horror, even as he sets the revolver down and wraps me in the safety of his arms.

"Nooo...that wasn't my fault. That wasn't my fault! I told her not to, I tried to stop her."
The doppelganger's faceless maw radiates smugness and delight. I lean forward, reaching out with my claws to clutch at her. To hurt her and try to absolve my own conscious. My fingers slip through nothing, and nothing is what I see before I link my hands behind my neck and press my head against my knees once more. I don't raise it again until I hear the sound of an engine cut off, and a set of doors open and close. The wind brings familiar scents to my nose. I swallow needlessly, lifting my head and forcing the best attempt at a casual civility to my face as I feel them draw close. My eyes are pulled to the harbor and it's restless waters, before I glance towards my Sabbat allies.
"Oh, hey. You're here..."

https://youtu.be/UA1XlmvQkiI