It was lunchtime when Fyn and his new photographer left the gallery. The lifebearer was in his best mood yet since he had received his new orders. The gallery owner, a woman with a true passion for art and a lot of knowledge to go with it, had told him a great story about one of the old pictures that was on exhibit for the first time in years. According to her, the picture was rumored to be cursed since every owner it had ever had died from a mysterious disease. After its last owner had died, it had been in storage for a few decades. When it was sent to be restored shortly before the gallery owner acquired it, the restorers had found a strange chemical mixed with the paint that, combined with the normal heat and dampness of a home, when released into the air, caused severe lung damage to humans and lashran alike. The painting was now safe; it was put into a hermetically sealed glass box and would surely find a new owner soon who, this time, wouldn't die because of it.

Needless to say, Fyn was thrilled by this story. It was right up his alley, and although it was nowhere near the investigative journalism he loved, it made for a wonderful and interesting article. Mr. Solir had also taken a few nice shots of the artwork, making it look mysterious and sinister despite its motif of two children in a sunny landscape.

Since the lifebearer knew that this article would practically write itself, he decided not to head straight back to the "Valkyrie Times".

"Why don't we get lunch?" he asked Solir with a smile. "Let's celebrate our first piece of work together. There's a nice bistro right over there."

"Of course, sir," the sire agreed and parked the car. In fact, he had been doing what he was told without so much as a few words in response, so far. And although Fyn was glad not to have someone with him with whom he was constantly arguing, Eondar Solir was starting to seem a bit like a butler - or a bodyguard. Especially with that habit of his of calling Fyn "sir". It was indeed nice to be addressed respectfully, but it was starting to become annoying.

A few minutes later, they had sat down at one of the little tables at the bistro and were studying the menu. Or rather, Fyn had decided quickly and now studied the sire sitting opposite him. He still hadn't figured out what was going on behind the steel wall of Solir's eyes. Was it a trauma from the things that had happened back at Azirus? Or had the sire always been like this? Fyn couldn't even begin to guess.

A smiling waitress came over to their table a moment later to take their orders, and now Fyn had no menu card to hide his curious looks. So he decided to take a direct approach.

"I think I told you before, but you really don't have to address me so formally. I mean, we just met yesterday, but usually we're on a first name basis with each other at the "Times". Well, except for Celia, but she calls me 'Mr. Sheldon' to make a point that she sees me as her boss."

"So do I," the photographer answered. "But if it really bothers you, I'll drop the 'sir'."

"Thanks." Fyn smiled. "Now would you mind telling me a bit about yourself? It's an occupational disease to be curious, I'm afraid."

"There's not much to tell," the sire answered. "You can read my résumé, it's no secret. I grew up here in Valkyrie Falls, finished college, worked as a fashion photographer for a while and then began my career as a photo journalist, traveling abroad."

"So you always wanted to be a photographer?" Fyn asked.

Solir nodded. "Yes. I wanted to show people how things really look." An undefined emotion flashed in his eyes. Humor? "I think you know the feeling."

"Yes, I do." Fyn leaned back in his chair and smiled. "I guess we're both one of those silly types who dares to search for the truth. Well, what about your family? If you're Mr. McKenzie's brother-in-law..."

"Jordan is bonded to my brother," the sire clarified.

"Oh? Is he younger or older than you? And do you have any more siblings?"

"Telias is my only sibling, a lot younger than me. I remember how I reacted when he told me about Jordan. I thought he had been so unfortunate as to fall in love with someone who's going to die soon."

Fyn remembered that he had thought his new editor-in-chief to be a human as well at first. But McKenzie was actually a lashran sire with a human parent. The comment about unfortunate love, however, made him pause. There it was been again. Just a flicker of something behind those eyes...

"I have a lot of human ancestors as well," he decided to share something in return. "My dad's mother was a human. And my sire has a human grandmother as well, I think." Fyn didn't bother to disclose the fact that he wasn't blood-related to his sire. Fyn had practically adopted private investigator Sheldon as his sire from the moment he had met him. All memories of his real sire were hazy and best forgotten. Fyn knew that his blood-sire's family was extremely wealthy and influential, but his father had kept him away from them ever since Fyn had been five years old. And Fyn had never wanted to find out more despite his boundless curiosity. He had his parents, who loved him, and that was enough.

"And do you have a bondmate or a boyfriend? Or a girlfriend? Kids?" Fyn continued to pry. Finally he had gotten the sire talking.

"Not anymore." The deep voice sounded a bit chilly.

Fyn couldn't help himself. "What happened?"

"I knew you wouldn't give up." The sire hesitated for a moment before he looked directly into Fyn's eyes. "I had a serious relationship with one of the models back when I was doing fashion shoots. He and I were about to bond. He died in a plane crash, a few weeks pregnant with our child."

Damn, Fyn could kick himself. "I'm so sorry! I really didn't mean to pry. It's a really bad habit," he hastily apologized, feeling an embarrassed blush creep up his cheeks. "And you needn't have to felt obligated to answer all those personal questions. I just wanted to get to know you better...I'm so sorry for being tactless."

"No need to. It's your job." Strangely enough, Eondar Solir didn't seem to be offended. "And now you do know me better."

"Well, I guess so," the lifebearer agreed. "And I meant it, I'm truly sorry. This must have been horrible. The only people close to me are my parents, but even the thought of something happening to them is terrible for me."

"It was a long time ago. And I'm glad to have my family as well." There was still direct eye contact between them, and strangely enough, Fyn started to notice some more subtle changes in those steely eyes. They didn't belong to a cold person, he now knew, just a very cautious one.

Before Fyn could reply anything, their meal arrived, and it was a good distraction from their conversation for a while. He still felt uncomfortable for being so forward despite Solir's attitude.

They finished lunch in silence, but when they walked back to the car, the lifebearer had made up his mind. "I have no idea if you even want to know anything about me, but it would be only fair," he said. "I'm an only child, never had a serious relationship, and the limp is the result of me falling down some stairs when I was a little kid. I wanted to be a private investigator like my sire, a police officer or even an Ulvari agent, but I couldn't meet the physical requirements, so I decided on journalism." Not really sure what to expect, Fyn looked up to the photographer's face and caught himself holding his breath. It was really difficult to see any reaction since the sire was a whole foot taller than he was, so he had to rely on a verbal answer. Sitting in front of each other had been far easier.

Solir looked down at him in a way that wasn't really 'looking down'. Fyn, always quick with words, had no real word to describe it. "Thanks for telling me, Mr. Sheldon. I wouldn't have asked, but I wanted to know more about you as well."

"Oh, stop that. Call me Fyn, please," the lifebearer answered with a relieved sigh. "And don't hesitate to ask anything. I never stop talking anyway," he added, now grinning.

"Then please call me Eondar," the photographer replied, the first real smile playing about his lips. It was incredible what a difference it made in his brooding face.

Fyn now officially had to admit that his new partner was very handsome.

To be continued...