'Qui: The Fall of Ottawa' Part 2, Chapter 8 (Patreon)

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Previously: Qui and Sam visited a mechanic shop in the south end of Ottawa, investigating a murder. They surprised a Tzimisce vampire, resulting in a vicious battle. Sam helped Qui drive the murderous creature away, but now she'd seen far too much for Qui to leave things to chance.

He had a choice: Kill her or bring her into the fold. There were no other options. He chose to tell her the truth and he very much hoped that he wouldn't have to kill her afterward.

The conversation had been going well, right up until Sam realized that Qui was a vampire, himself.

Chapter 8:

"You're one of them, too, aren't you?" Sam asked. "That's why I always feel a chill when you walk past me, like I'm supposed to run away or something." She inched her hand toward the seatbelt release and Qui grabbed it. She was going to run.

"I can't let you do that," he said.

"If you think I'm going down without a fight, then you're not as smart as I thought you were."

"Sam…" he said. "If I wanted to hurt you, you'd already be dead. I just need you to–"

She slammed her left elbow upward, cracking him in the base of the jaw with lightning quickness. Before he had time to recover from his surprise she'd already snatched her gun back from his pocket and fired a single shot into his chest at point-blank range. 

Qui grabbed the gun and tossed it into the back seat in one fluid motion, reacting faster than Sam could process. "I'm not going to hurt you," he said. It came out in a growl which couldn't really be helped, but for the most part he kept his cool. 

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Sam stuttered. "I shot you! How are you still moving like that?" 

He fixed her with a cold glare as his body mended the damage. He didn't trust himself to be all that cordial at the moment. His younger self would have torn the woman apart for that, but fortunately for her, he was more civilized these days. 

"You're not even bleeding!" she said in awe. Or maybe it was shock settling in. "You really are one of them!"

"If I wasn't, you'd have one hell of a hard time explaining why your boss was found dead with a bullet from your firearm. I have to admit, I'm impressed; you don't give up easily."

"So what happens now?" she asked. "You said I couldn't leave but you wouldn't kill me, either. Make up your damn mind."

"I said you couldn't leave until I talked to you. I said you needed to listen, then you shot me in the chest."

"Consider the circumstances."

"The circumstances are why you're still alive."

She pulled herself away from him and crossed her arms protectively over her chest. "Say what you need to say so I can leave. You can let me out right here and I'll find a taxi." 

Qui tried to be calm. He'd given this speech before, but it rarely ended up well. Now it was time to find out if Sam really was different than the others like he'd suspected. "There are forces in this world that the average person can barely comprehend," he said. "Even I have trouble understanding some of it and I've stood right in the way of the tide more times than I can count. You've seen Cranston and that thing that came out of the shop and turned into a wolf, but that's barely scratching the surface of what's lurking out there."

"So you fight against them?" Sam asked. "Stop them from killing us?"

Qui pursed his lips in thought. "Sometimes," he said. "Although to be honest we're not all that benevolent. Many supernatural beings are less civilized than us and we often come to blows. So yes, I suppose you're partly right–in a way we do protect you even if the benefit is often indirect."

"So, sort of like corrupt cops, then," Sam said. He could see that she was trying to frame this new information in a way that she could understand. Deeper realization would have to wait for later, but for now this would work. "You fight the bad guys when it benefits you and leave them on the street when it doesn't, but that still has to be better than nothing in most cases."

"I wouldn't put it that way, exactly," Qui replied, "but it's a good enough analogy to start with."

"So if people like Cranston are controlling institutions like the police from behind the scenes, it makes sense that they'd hire someone like you to clean up the rabble when they get too messy or if someone finds out, right? We knew that from the start; you're a fixer–you travel and set things straight for your monster bosses."

Qui grimaced. He didn't like the words she was choosing, but he couldn't afford to be pedantic right now and risk sending her spiraling into a panic again. Contrary to what she might believe right now, he couldn't suffer too many more bullet wounds without consequences. Best to keep her receptive. 

She took his silence as an acknowledgement. "So now that I've seen what I've seen, you're supposed to shut me up?" There was a flash of fear in her eyes and she quickly flicked her gaze to the gun on the backseat. She took a deep breath and seemingly abandoned the thought–she'd already tried violence and it accomplished nothing. "But you said that if I listened to you, you'd guarantee my safety."

He shook his head slightly. "That's not exactly what I said, but it's close enough. The world can be cruel and random. I can't even guarantee my own safety, much less yours. What I can guarantee is that if we work together on this, you'll be able to walk away tonight."

"That sounds like a threat."

"It is one," he replied. "Though it's not one I want to follow through on. My kind have rules–laws–much like your own. Except that when someone breaks our rules, we don't get a proper trial and we don't get read our rights. We're dealt with immediately and fatally. I can guarantee you one thing–if you go to an authority or news agency after tonight and reveal a single thing we've talked about, you'll be dead within twenty-four hours–the same thing that would happen to me if I made that kind of mistake. If I let you leave this car and you do something stupid, you won't be the only one who doesn't wake up the next evening. You'll be my responsibility."

"You're serious about this stuff, aren't you?"

"Deadly."

"Fine then," she said. "So either I'm a good girl and shut up or you'll kill me. That about the size of it?"

"There is another option."

"Oh?"

"I can make it so you don't remember any of this conversation. I can probably even make you forget about Cranston, too. But it's a messy process and I can't guarantee you'll come out with all your normal memories intact."

Sam watched him for a moment as if waiting for a punchline. When none was forthcoming, she chuckled anyway. "You had me going for a while there. This is just an elaborate joke, right? How'd you do it, put blanks in my gun after you pocketed it so you could take one to the chest without flinching?"

"I know you're trying to convince yourself it's not real," he said. "It happens to everyone when they're confronted with an uncomfortable truth. But sooner or later your denial will fail you, and you'll realize that Cranston wasn't a dream and that what happened tonight wasn't a hoax." He sighed. "When those mental walls crumble, you'll do something stupid, like go to the press. After that, there's no force on this earth that can save you from the consequences of your actions. So…let's speed up the process and skip the denial step, shall we?"

Sam chewed her lip and eyed the gun again. "What are you going to–holy shit!"

Qui faded out, disappearing from her sight completely, effectively invisible. Not many Kindred could do that while a mortal was watching, but he'd greatly refined his skill over the years. If his disappearing act didn't cut through her disbelief then nothing would and he'd have to risk lobotomizing her to alter her memories.

"What the hell, James?" She scrambled for the gun again and he grabbed her hand, reappearing the moment he made physical contact with her. 

"The thing you shot back there was a vampire," he said. "Commissioner Cranston is a vampire." He looked her dead in the eyes. "I'm a vampire. I'm sorry this happened to you, but you need to choose: Work with me and remember, or be made to forget."

"Is it..is it like the movies?" she asked with a stutter. "Can you make me like you?"

He shook his head. "I could, but I won't. My bloodline comes with…unfortunate side effects that would leave you horribly scarred. Remember those rules I mentioned earlier?"

She nodded.

"One of them governs turning mortals into Kindred. We would both be killed if I were so foolish."

"Kindred? That's a fancy name for a vampire." Sam's demeanor was rapidly changing from terrified to fascinated. "Let's say I choose to work with you. What's the catch? There's always a catch with this kind of thing. If these rules are as serious as you say, then you'll need to keep me on a short leash until you know you can trust me. I'm not stupid–I can see that much pretty clearly."

Qui nodded. It seemed he'd managed to turn things around for the better. That was good. He'd had a feeling about her since the first day he walked into the station. 

Sam would make an excellent servant. 

"You'll need to take a leap of faith," he said. "I'm going to feed you a small amount of my Blood."