'Qui: The Fall of Ottawa' Part 2, Chapter 10

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Previously: Qui and Sam fought off a vicious flesh-crafting Tzimisce which managed to escape after being terribly wounded. As they drove back into the city, Qui explained what they had seen and came clean about his undead nature. He chose to trust Sam and fed her a small portion of his Blood, enhancing her strength, but also creating a weak blood bond to ensure her silence.

Chapter 10:

Sam stood in front of her bathroom mirror and ran the length of an ultra-thin exacto knife down her cheek for the second time, watching her reflection as the wound slowly mended itself, leaving barely more than a line of dark red blood to mark its passing. Her lips twisted up into a quirk of a smile as she moved to cut again. She was laughing to herself. She knew that this behavior should disturb her, but she felt oddly serene about the whole thing despite the giggling fit.

James had warned her that she might experience unusual feelings of strength and euphoria while acclimating to her new abilities. Despite the fact that she could tell he'd done this before, she couldn't help feeling special, as if there was some connection between the two of them now. She'd been terrified of him in the moments after she shot him in the chest–frightened at first that she'd made a fatal mistake and killed her boss, and then even more frightened when she realized that the bullet had barely hurt him at all. 

She'd been so sure that she was going to die in that ridiculously orange car. 

"I knew I was meant for something more," she muttered to herself as she pricked the tip her index finger with the knife. She popped it into her mouth and sucked. She wasn't sure what she expected, but her own blood tasted absolutely horrible, nothing like the bliss she'd experienced when she tasted James's for the first time. She craved it like she'd never craved anything before, but she was strong enough to put it out of her mind for a time. She hadn't been made a vampire like him, though–apparently the mechanics for that were different and they involved her actually dying. 

Sam was still very much alive. More alive than she'd felt in years.

She crossed her arms and made a face in the mirror. She'd gone her entire life looking down on people with addictions. Well, maybe not looking down on them per se, but certainly not understanding where they were coming from. Walking up to her apartment from the parking lot tonight, she'd passed a homeless man begging for change. He'd been there for weeks, always leaning against the same stretch of wall, eyeing her hopefully when she went by after her long night shift. He was one of the only people in the neighborhood other than herself who was always awake at five am. She wasn't heartless, but after enough time in the city, people like that just faded into the background. This time, though, she handed him five dollars and let him into the lobby. At least he'd be warm for a little while before someone noticed, shooed him out, and locked the place back up again. 

There were things out there in the night, feeding on humans like that man who could disappear without being missed. James hadn't said as much, but he might as well have. 

She put the knife down and drummed her fingers over the counter. She'd usually be in bed by now, but she was positively bristling with nervous energy. Maybe she should go for a walk and burn off that excess adrenaline. Anything would be better than slicing at herself like some kind of psychopath. It was just so strange how alive it made her feel. The pain was vibrant, and the blood…

"Keep yourself together, Sam," she whispered. "James said you'd need time to adjust. He wouldn't have done this to you if he didn't think you could handle it."

She grabbed her coat and hastily put it on as she swept out the door, feet barely touching the floor as she raced for the outside. She didn't want to look in the mirror anymore–she wasn't sure she liked what she saw there.

It still wasn't light out when she got to the lobby and the homeless man was still there. He was wrapped up in a dirty hoodie that might have once been green but was now more of an olive-brown. She groaned when she noticed that he was slumped against the wall, partially blocking the door. 

A loud, raspy snore rattled through the otherwise silent air. Sam was already starting to regret her charity when she approached him. He didn't move; she was going to have to touch him.

"Sir?" she called out, hoping to get his attention. She leaned in and nearly gagged at the rancid smell radiating from him in a cloud she could practically feel. She placed a hand on his shoulder and tried to turn him so she could see his face. "You can stay inside, but I need to get by."

The snoring stopped and the putrid-smelling man sniffed loudly, face still obscured by the hood. "I thought it was you," he said. "You have a particular smell to you…"

"What?" Sam asked. She took an unsteady step away. That wasn't the voice of the homeless man she'd helped earlier. This was another person, entirely.

The man's arm shot out from his side like a viper and clutched her wrist in a vice-like grip, crushing her bones with several audible cracks.

Sam wailed in agony at the unexpected assault. She tried to pull free but quickly realized it was no use. If escape wasn't an option, she'd need to free herself another way. 

She jerked sideways, trying to ignore the pain in her wrist as she drove her other fist into the attacker's concealed face. It howled in pain as its hood flew back, revealing a twisted, hissing maw filled with bone-white teeth filed into sharp points. She'd seen this creature before–back at the murder site.

It grinned at her, at least she thought that's what it was doing. It had no lips, so it was hard to be sure. "You're tougher than you look," it said. "I'll give you that."

Sam smashed the thing again and two of its teeth snapped off. Unfortunately, that didn't seem to phase it in the slightest. In fact, it advanced, grabbing her other arm and pulling her closer to its ragged jaws. Its breath was so horrendous that she almost passed out then and there. "Nearly lost you back there," the thing huffed. "But then that giant Leper of yours parked on the side of the road. The two of you were there for a long time while I waited. Thought you'd impress the boss? Can he still get it up for a mortal?"

"That's not…oh god!" The pain was so bad that Sam could barely speak; it felt like the creature was going to rip her apart! She tried to concentrate her newly enhanced strength to free herself. For a moment she thought she could slip free, but it only clutched her tighter, fingernails puncturing her arm and causing her struggles to tear at her own skin.

"The bastard ghouled you, didn't he?" the monster asked, its head cocked to the side like a curious animal. "Didn't expect that. You must be precious to him." It slipped a long, sinuous tongue from between its jaws and slid it along her cheek where she'd cut herself with the knife a few minutes ago. It must have sensed the remnants of her blood there. "Yes, I believe I can taste his influence… I'll take you from him just like he took Ennis away from me."