Secrets [slash]

Part 8

The gangsters opened a steel door at the back of the room and pushed Sheldon through before they closed it behind him again. There was no furniture, and in the cold light of a naked light bulb he recognized Cerise huddled in a corner. In his arms he held little Fyn. The child seemed to be asleep.

"Sheldon?" Cerise's eyes grew wide when he saw the investigator. "Forests, what are you doing here?"

Sheldon grimaced. "I came to rescue you, and I botched it. Detective Everett knows where I went, however, and he'll get us out of here."

In truth, the investigator was sure that Henry would be too late, but he wasn't about to tell that to Cerise. "Are you and the kid alright?" he asked instead.

The lifebearer nodded. "Scared, but unharmed. How did you find out where we are?"

The investigator sat down beside Cerise and told him about the events that let him to this place. "You should have called me or the police when you got the message this morning," he said finally.

Cerise bit his lip. " I know, but I was so scared for Fyn. The note said they'd kill him on the spot if I breathed a word to anyone."

"They won't kill you or the kid, " Sheldon answered darkly. "From what I've gathered, Malrone wants you back for his brothel in exchange for helping Sylair."

Cerise went even paler than he already was. "I… I don't understand it… Sylair was always very civil to Fyn and me, and from what Fyn told me, "Cousin Sylair" came to take care of him during the last weeks."

Sheldon's eyebrows wandered into his hairline. "He did? Damn, I think I'm starting to understand what's really going on here."

Before Cerise could ask about it, Fyn stirred and opened his eyes. "Are we home?" he asked sleepily.

"Not yet, sweetheart." Cerise tightened his arms around his son and gave Fyn a kiss on top of his tousled head.

The child looked around and fixed his gaze on Sheldon. His eyes were pastel green, and some freckles were scattered across his nose, but otherwise he really was a miniature version of Cerise.

"Are you a bad man, too?" Fyn asked Sheldon timidly.

The investigator shook his head and managed to smile. "No, Fyn, I'm not a bad man. I'm a friend of your father. My name is Sheldon."

"Can you get us home?" Fyn asked him, his tooth gap causing a cute little lisp when he said the word 'us'. "I don't like it here."

"I'll try," Sheldon said. "Your father said that your cousin Sylair took care of you?"

The little lifebearer nodded. "He was very nice to me and brought me toys and chocolate. But I was all alone in a strange room. And I missed my daddy."

"Did Sylair tell you why you had to stay in that room?"

"No. He just said that we are a family and have to look out for each other. He also said that daddy and sire don't love me at all. But I said he was mean and I don't believe it. Sire doesn't like me, but daddy loves me very much."

"Of course, my angel," Cerise whispered, stroking his child's blond curls. Tears glistened in his eyes, but he quickly wiped them away so Fyn wouldn't see them.

Thoughts whirled around in Sheldon's mind, as the last piece of the puzzle fell into place.

His suspicions had been confirmed by Fyn's words. But he had no time left to tell Cerise anything because the door was opened once again.

"If you get the chance, grab Fyn and run," the investigator whispered to the lifebearer while a desperate plan to escape was forming in his mind. Seeing Cerise and Fyn alive and well lend him new hope and resolve, and the ties around his wrists started to feel slippery enough that he might escape them.

The two goons from before grabbed him and dragged him back into the room. To his relief, Mr. Malrone and his guards were gone as well as Sylair. Two men he could handle – somehow.

He held still as they pushed him down on a chair. "I don't understand why the boss ordered us to kill him here," Dumb Goon grumbled. "He'll blood all over the place. And I ain't no cleaning lady."

"He's easier to move when dead, idiot," Brains retorted. "Now take his gun and put him down."

Dumb Goon took Henry's gun from the table. It was now or never. Sheldon pulled at his wrists with all his might, and his slippery hands escaped the rope. In the blink of an eye he jumped up from the chair, grabbed the surprised gangster by the wrist and used a special police grip Henry had showed him to disarm the man. The other gangster pulled out his gun and fired, but Sheldon had anticipated this and turned Dumb Goon in the line of fire. With a surprised grunt, the big man fell to the ground.

Before the other gangster could overcome his astonishment, Sheldon had shot him right in the heart.

The investigator took a few deep breaths. Never before had he killed a person, and although it had been pure self-defence against two criminals, Sheldon felt a bit shaky. Reason took over, however, and he searched the smarter gangster's pockets for the keys. Then he unlocked the cell door.

"Cee, it's alright. Cover Fyn's eyes and follow me."

Cerise nodded, got on his feet with Fyn in his arms and pulled the child's face close to his chest so that Fyn wouldn't see the corpses. Cerise himself was deadly pale, but managed to handle the sight of two shot men without a sound.

Sheldon opened the door to the corridor and listened. In the distance, he could hear gunfire and shouting.

"Detective Everett had sent reinforcements," he told Cerise with a grim smile. "Come on."

Still on alert, they followed the corridor until they reached the stairs leading up to the hatch. Sheldon opened it carefully and took a peek. The warehouse seemed to be empty, and the shouting echoed from another part of the complex. Sheldon had planned to retrace his steps back to the little backdoor, but halfway through the warehouse the distinct sound of footsteps stopped him.

Sheldon whirled around, but was a fraction too late. A shot rang through the hall, and he felt a searing pain in his shoulder. The investigator let go of his weapon, unable to hold it any longer.

Sylair Holden emerged from between two large crates, a gun in his hand. "Not so fast, Mr. Sheldon."

"Give it up, Sylair," Sheldon gasped, clutching his injured arm. "The police has surrounded the building. You can't escape."

The lifebearer smiled grimly. "Maybe, but you three won't leave either." Then he pointed his firearm at Cerise. "Put the kid down!"

Cerise's arms instinctively tightened around his child, fear and resolve battling behind his aqua eyes.

"I won't let you harm my son!" he shouted.

Sylair's face showed dangerous impatience. "Then put him down!"

 Slowly, very slowly, Cerise complied. Fyn stared at his cousin with wide eyes. "Don't hurt daddy and Sheldon, please," he whispered. "You said that we are a family. You said we have to watch out for each other."

Through the red haze of pain, Sheldon saw Sylair hesitate. Somehow the child's words seemed to move the lifebearer. He lowered his gun a fraction.

Sheldon gathered all his remaining strength and attacked. Sylair seemed all but forgotten about him, and Sheldon managed to throw the lifebearer off his feet. Using his bigger body, Sheldon tried to pin Sylair to the ground. But Sylair was faster than expected and managed to get a hand free. He hit Sheldon on the injured shoulder, and the investigator's vision went black for a moment. Using his advantage, Sylair got back on his feet and pointed his gun at Sheldon with a triumphant smile.

Bit the deadly shot never came. Sheldon heard a dull thumping noise, and then Sylair sagged down like a wet rag. Behind him stood Cerise, holding Henry's gun butt first like a hammer. The fear was completely gone from his face, and his eyes glowed with resolve and anger. "You won't ever hurt somebody dear to me again, you bastard," he whispered, looking down on the unconscious Sylair like an avenging angel.

It was the last thing Sheldon saw before he blacked out.

To be continued...