Chapter Thirteen

"It's this game playing, political maneuvering, and posturing bullshit I can't stand."

Dixon glanced at his angry mate, pacing the hotel suite floor, as he stuffed another forkful of steak into his mouth. There'd been a bit of a fumble leaving the Tower. Guards were trying to stop Benedict from leaving, insisting councilors were waiting to speak to him. The guards were under orders and couldn't be faulted for that, but Dixon had another agenda entirely. Benedict had said he wanted to get out of the Tower, so Dixon's bear took him out. There was nothing complicated about that side of things.

The previously tied up person – Dixon learned this was Benedict's closest friend and lawyer – well, he was waiting in the car when Dixon got there. Of course, Dixon's clothes were a shredded mess on the Great Hall floor, but Jarvis – bless the man - simply pulled out a blanket and didn't even double blink at Dixon's nakedness when he shifted.

The decision had been made to get a hotel suite in London. Langley pointed out Benedict still had an obligation to appear before the Council so there was no point in driving four hours back to York, just to turn around and make the same trip again the next day. Besides, everyone involved needed food, including Jarvis.

So the executive decision was made, a suite was found, food was ordered, and Dixon was finally able to get dressed, thanks to an overnight bag he and Benedict had packed in the event their meeting had run overtime. Jarvis had been given his own room and was told he could take the rest of the night off, which he seriously deserved.

Dixon sighed. Benedict was unraveling and unfortunately, the best methods Dixon knew in terms of distracting the man just weren't possible with an audience. He had some issues of his own he wanted to process – not the least, seeing and feeling the presence of his parents as he'd tried to seek out where the cowardly magic users had been hiding. Just to hear his mom's voice again… Dixon hurriedly stuffed more food in his mouth. Now was not the time. Focus on the living.

"I told you back at the hall this was a test." Langley was an odd duck, but Dixon didn't see anything threatening about him. The man was tall and extremely slim, and while there was nothing exceptional about his parchment pale skin, washed out blue eyes, and meticulously cut short blond hair, he did have an air of authority about him which Dixon's bear figured had to be the result of age. It was impossible to work out how old the man was, although his clipped speech suggested someone at least as old as Benedict, if not more.

"They had no right to test me. I don't work for them anymore," Benedict fumed as he did another turn around the room. This was the same man who'd fallen asleep in the back of the car when they left the Tower, slumped in Dixon's arms. That was concerning. Benedict had managed a short catnap at best. Dixon had no idea what would happen when his mate's adrenaline levels fell. The crash was coming. It was inevitable after all Benedict had done and the amount of magic he'd used.

But Benedict hadn't reached that point yet. Swirling around, Benedict pointed at his friend who was sipping from a china cup so thin it was almost translucent. "Surely to goodness, the stunt the Council pulled today is grounds enough for me and Dixon to go back to America. They threatened me. You know that. They threatened you. And you know the only reason I came back here at all was because they threatened to arrest me for my family's deaths if I didn't meet with them. They don't have any evidence of me being responsible because I didn't do it. Fuck them, I say. Just fuck them."

"I agree they don't have any evidence to charge you." Langley took another measured sip from his cup, lowering the cup cradled in both hands before speaking again. "The Council also made a grave mistake today by including your shifter mate in their attack. While they could fob off the antics against you and me as a means of testing our efficacy in the field, or some other nonsense, involving a shifter was uncalled for and technically illegal under Paranormal Council policies."

"They would do that to their own people? Test them by outright attacking them for no reason?" Dixon had never heard anything like it, but Langley was shaking his head.

"It's not normally done, no. However, the Magical Council always likes to cover their behinds in the event of any and all unforeseen behavior. In clause ninety-six, subsection fifty-two, item four hundred and twenty-seven of the policies dealing with Magical Council behavior in relation to their members, it is stated, and I quote, ‘that there may be occasions where magic may be used in an aggressive manner by the aggressor against an unprepared party, if the Council determines that is the only reliable way of finding truthful answers to the questions they may have'."

"They're covering their asses." Dixon nodded. He had enough contract knowledge to understand that. "So what happens now? We go in tomorrow, and we're all arrested? Only, if that's going to happen I'm all for heading to the plane now and to hell with the lot of them.

"One of the first things my Necromancer mate taught me is that there is no changing dead, and as sad as it might be, Benedict's immediate family is gone. Nothing is going to change that and any beef the late Lord Dule might have had with the Council, even if he was so dirty he stank, makes no never mind. Benedict is not responsible for his father's behavior, or for the tragic way his family died." Dixon shrugged. "Makes it pointless us being here, doesn't it?"

"The trip was worth it even if it was just to keep Uncle Hugo's greasy fingers from snatching things from my estate." Benedict finally came over and Dixon pushed out his chair so his mate could sit on his lap.

"I should've done better by you today, my mate." Benedict's head was on Dixon's shoulder. "You were attacked, so unnecessarily, and my first instinct should've been to protect you."

That was so unexpected, Dixon laughed. "You already had protected me. Those magic fireballs flying around didn't hurt me, and while I could've done without the shrieking and drumming nonsense, I trusted the protections you'd already put in place, which was why I could go on the attack instead of staying by you and Langley. Are you angry at me, because I didn't hover by your side while you were doing what you were doing?"

"Don't baffle me with logic." Benedict's sigh was deep and heartfelt.

"What I am interested in, and I hope this doesn't do anything to cause you any discomfort, Langley, but how did you end up tied up in a chair in the first place?" Dixon asked. "My bear can sense you're an older being. I would've thought any of your peers would've treated you with more respect, especially as you were there in your official function as Benedict's lawyer."

"I would've thought that was obvious, Dixon." Langley took a gentile sip of his tea and placed his cup carefully on its saucer. "I have limited magical abilities. I have never been what one would call athletic. I do not engage in fighting in any form, and my peers are aware of that. I don't expect you to understand, but when they told me to sit in the chair, I did. There were four of them and one of me. I did not resist when they tied me up, although…" Langley frowned. "I would've objected very strongly to being gagged if I'd been given the opportunity. Shoving an unhygienic piece of cloth in my mouth was totally unnecessary. I had no idea what germs that offending element might've contained."

Dixon clamped his teeth together. After all they'd been through that was the one thing Langley was upset about – the possibility a cloth put in his mouth was dirty. Dixon wanted to laugh so badly, even though the man's account really wasn't funny. But Langley's expression was so very British or that's what Dixon thought. Finally he managed to say, "That was very unnecessary." He noticed how Benedict's body was finally relaxed, his mate's head resting on his shoulder.

"Is he asleep?" He mouthed to Langley who was watching them closely.

The lawyer nodded. "If you'll excuse me," he said in a lot lower tone, "I'll retire for the evening as well. Even if for some reason the council does not require our presence tomorrow, I will have a lot to do, preparing our complaint for the Shifter Council, compiling my notes for the Paranormal Council, and fielding messages no doubt from the Magical Council."

"I think my mate was right," Dixon grumbled. "There is far too much posturing and politicking going on among the different councils. I don't know how you can keep track of them all."

"Centuries of practice, my new friend." Langley stood and offered a rare smile. "It does my heart good to see how much Benedict trusts you. I have done my very best to protect his interests over the years, but having a strong shoulder to rest on is something he's needed for a long time. I'm glad he's found that in you. Good night, Dixon."

"Good night, Langley." Dixon was stunned, although he hoped Langley didn't notice. A living person in England actually approves of my presence in Benedict's life. I must be more tired than I thought. Sliding his arm under Benedict's legs so he could hold him more securely, Dixon got up and headed for their bedroom. The mess in the living area could wait. He had an exhausted mate to tend to.