Jeffrey Dean
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'Qui: The Fall of Ottawa' Part 2, Chapter 13
🕑 Added 2025-03-31 22:00:01 +0000 UTC[Please note this is not an official World of Darkness licensed product. All chapters within this setting will be available free of charge and will never be behind a paywall.]
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Previously: Sam defeated a severely weakened vampire after it attacked her in her lobby. Unfortunately, the body was quickly discovered and the police were involved. Sam headed back to her apartment to call Qui in hopes that he could help make the problem go away. Qui arrived close to sunup and examined the scene before joining Sam in her apartment. He explained the situation and then asked her something that she should have expected--the sun would soon be rising and he needed a place to sleep.
Chapter 13:
Qui was silent for a moment as he contemplated his temporary sleeping arrangements. Earlier in the night this woman had shot him in the chest, and now due to his recklessness he had no choice but to trust her with his unlife. This was the kind of poor decision making that routinely got fledgling Kindred destroyed in their early nights. Sam had tasted his Blood, true, but the bond was still in its nascent phase. She would be inclined to trust him and follow his instructions, but she wasn't his slave. He'd seen more than one newly turned thrall go rogue before the bond had thoroughly set in. He could implant a suggestion, alter her behavior, but for whatever reason he chose not to.
I must be going soft, he thought.
He resolved to never put himself in this kind of situation again if he survived the night, at least not until Sam had proved herself as a steady and reliable retainer.
"Once I'm in there," he said, "you don't open that door for any reason."
Sam nodded. "I get it. You're putting a lot of trust in me. You didn't have to come and bail me out, but you did. That means a lot."
"That vampire attacked both of us," Qui said. "It knew our faces. You did us both a favor by finishing it off. Keep impressing me like that and I'll show you more than you ever imagined possible." He knew from experience that it was a tempting offer–there were wealthy mortals out there who would pay millions of dollars for a chance at dipping a toe into the hidden pool that was Qui's world.
Sam smiled as she got up and opened the door to the guest bedroom. It was a strangely sad smile. "I probably don't have to tell you that I never fit in, here," she said. "I tried–brought the guys donuts, coffee, kept up a friendly mask. I always took the job seriously, more than most of the guys in the station did. I wanted to put my mark on something and make a difference. I know it's a cliche but that's why I joined the force in the first place."
"But you always felt like something was missing," Qui said. He'd heard this story from a handful of mortals before–mortals who were close to the veil, sensing that if they could just tilt their head the right way they could see through to the truth behind their mundane world.
Sam nodded. "I used to talk to my mom about it. She got pretty big into hallucinogens in the late sixties. She always swore that she'd seen strange creatures in the night before I was born and the only way she could remember them was to get high. She said it 'unlocked' part of her brain. Not reporting her is one of the few rules I've ever bent as an officer. Somehow I always knew she was right and I didn't want to take her memories away from her."
She laughed as she moved several containers of clothing and books off an old bed that looked like that had been used for storage since Sam moved in. It was covered in dust and looked distinctly unwelcoming.
Fortunately, Qui didn't need comfort. He only needed the dark. This room would do nicely.
"Sorry," Sam said as she continued to work away at the mess. "I don't get guests very often. Ever, really." She looked back at him. "I must sound foolish to you."
"Not at all," he replied. "It must be maddening to know there's something out there but never be able to touch it or see it."
"I have to admit," she said. "I'm still not a hundred percent sure this is actually real and I'm not having the world's most lucid dream. Then again, everyone has their pants on, so I'm probably not asleep."
Qui looked at her.
"I, er…" Sam stuttered. "You know, like those dreams where you walk into work and you don't have…" She pulled at her hair with embarrassment and took a step away. "I didn't mean it like… Sorry."
"The room will be fine like this," Qui said, stepping past to save her the embarrassment of facing him while she tried to figure out what to say. He felt her shiver as he got close. It must have been a natural reaction to his Nosferatu curse of course, but there might have been something else at play. "You have nothing to apologize for." He noticed her trying not to wince as he sat on one of her books. He shifted to the side, picked it up, and handed it to her without examining it.
"Is there anything else you need before morning?" Sam asked.
Qui shook his head. "Just try to get some sleep and we'll deal with the fallout, tomorrow. I'll be able to make the incident go away easily, presuming I make it through the day." He thought for a second before pulling the crumpled papers from his pocket and handed them to Sam. "The vagrant had these in his coat pocket. He was keeping tabs on you."
"What?" Sam asked as she opened the note and read. Her eyes widened with alarm. "I didn't think…" She scowled. "Hard to be mad at him–he probably saved my life. Still though," She read the paper again. "These instructions he had…I think I've seen this handwriting, before."
"Do you remember where?"
She was quiet for a moment before shaking her head. "I'm not sure. It's been a long night and I'm exhausted. Maybe it will come to me after sleeping on it." She walked over to the front door, slipped the chain on, and double-checked the deadbolt. "I wish you'd waited to show me this," she said. "It's going to be hard to sleep knowing I'm being watched by god knows who." She pulled a small lamp table over and propped it up underneath the doorknob. "It's not much, but it will have to do until I can visit a locksmith and deck this place out like Fort Knox."
"You should do that soon," Qui said as a sudden wave of exhaustion fell over him like a weighted blanket. Sunrise was imminent. He had a minute left. Maybe two. "I'm out of time," he said. "Everything changed for you tonight. Tomorrow we'll begin your training."
He closed the door and slumped down on the bed. There was something strangely freeing about putting himself at this woman's mercy. He'd spent so long micromanaging every aspect of his unlife that there was a bit of a thrill to taking a chance and trusting his judgment.
If he was wrong about her, he'd never know it. All she had to do was expose him to sunlight while he slumbered and there would be little left of him to mark his passing–brittle bones and dust, all that was left of his mortal life.
When he closed his eyes he could see the sword. It spoke to him in tongues no man had spoken in centuries–the words were foreign, but their meaning was clear. He wasn't finished yet.
The blade was far from done with him.
