The Dare of Truth [slash]

Chapter 14

Fyn didn't dare leave Kalish alone. Celia promised to send an escort to see them both home safely and to establish a security perimeter around Kalish's apartment as well. Fyn waited to tell his friend about the imminent danger until after the red-haired lifebearer had, contrary to his usual habit, found the perfect outfit at the first shop: a beautiful suit, made of cream-colored satin with a crimson, iridescent shirt that matched his hair perfectly.

Both sat down in a little café at the mall, and Fyn told his friend as much as he dared to under the circumstances. Kalish looked at him, eyes full of doubt. "I don't understand. I don't have anything to do with those Zarnian crime lords and their intrigues! Why should they target me, of all people? Aren't you a bit paranoid after everything that has happened in the last few days?"

Fyn shook his head. "No, that car almost hitting you was no accident. And you are a target because you are the person that Othric loves the most. He is the one they want to hurt by injuring or even killing you."

"And why Othric then? Fynnie, please, who is behind all this?" Kalish pleaded. "Can't the Alliance do something?"

"They were doing everything they could, but until now they didn't know who exactly to look for. But I have a pretty good idea by now." Fyn's face darkened. "Don't worry; we'll get him for sure this time."

About ten minutes later, two unsuspicious looking agents, a sire and a woman, picked them up at the café. Fyn reassured his best friend that everything would be alright now and that he would talk to Othric about the situation. Kalish should stay at home for the moment under the watchful eyes of the agents.

The journalist went back to the "Valkyrie Times" to meet up with Celia, some more field agents, Jordan, and Eondar for a council of war. He also called Othric and asked him to join them as well. After the sire had heard that his betrothed almost got killed by a madman, he promised to join them in a hurry.

While they waited for him to arrive, Celia introduced Fyn to the senior agent in charge of the operation. Anthony Talbot was a human in his fifties with greying hair, a neat beard and a no-nonsense attitude. He briefly shook hands with Fyn.

"I do hope you have something solid here, Mr. Sheldon," he said in a grumbling tone. "The material on your recording device didn't provide anything useful so far."

"If there had been anything serving as proof for this case, I would have noticed weeks ago," the journalist answered coolly as he once again felt he was not being taken seriously.

Talbot just raised an eyebrow. "Well, I hope you're not wasting our time here."

Jordan provided them with a big conference room that also had a digital whiteboard. When everyone involved was assembled about half an hour later, Fyn stepped forward. He quickly told them about Kalish's near-accident and his own realization.

"The black car without a licence plate was the final hint," he said, his gaze fixing on Eondar. "You said that your colleague Michael was also run over by such a car, Eondar, right? And from what my parents told me, some thirty years ago my dad was also targeted by such a car. Back then, it belonged to a gangster named Malrone. He is now an old man, still serving his time in prison, but there is someone else. Someone who always wanted to take over the Holden hotels to make them a safe haven for criminals. Someone who conspired with the Zarnian guild lord who in return would help him 'get back what belongs to him'. Eondar, you and your colleagues overheard that conversation, and from that point on, everything that has happened until now was a consequence of that coincidence. He was the one who threatened or bribed those influential people in town and threatened Mr. McKenzie and the "Times" when I started investigating and found a connection." Fyn paused to select a picture on the digital whiteboard and enlarged it. It showed a beautiful lifebearer with cold, mad eyes. "I think the one behind everything is Sylair Holden."