Chapter Twenty-Five

If Dixon was writing the script of his life, as soon as they had left the Tower, he and Benedict would be just a short drive away from the plane that would take them back to the States. His wishes worked to a point. They did get on the plane. Benedict refused to stay in London despite Langley suggesting it would be for the best, at least for a few days. Instead, the plane took them to York, where Jarvis was waiting with the car, and in a matter of hours, the amazing Mrs. Porter had fed them, and they were as relaxed as they could be, alone in the labyrinth sitting on Benedict's favorite bench.

Langley had spent most of the plane trip on the phone, and the last time Dixon saw him, he was still arguing with someone on the same phone in the office Benedict had directed him to. Another stowaway was Terrence, who'd arrived in a taxi just before the plane took off, carrying an overnight bag. "The Paranormal Council thought you might need a liaison officer until the mess has been cleared," he said sheepishly, going over to sit next to Langley.

Benedict just nodded, as if he expected it, but apart from that, he didn't say a word except to respond in monosyllables if asked something directly. The only full sentence he made was to Mrs. Porter. "My Uncle Hugo and any of his family line are barred from ever stepping foot on this estate," he said softly but firmly. "I trust you to ensure that ruling is kept whether I am in residence or not."

"Understood, Lord Dule." Mrs. Porter even ducked in a bit of a curtsey before she hurried off to organize their food. Dixon wasn't sure she'd ever done that before. News clearly traveled fast.

Through their bond, Dixon could feel Benedict's emotions were all over the place. He was overwhelmed, and Dixon could totally understand why. When the zombie brothers showed up in the middle of the Main Hall, Dixon felt sick to his stomach, and he was only related to them through his bond. But there was a lot of anger simmering in his quiet mate, too – anger at the Council who'd played Benedict for a fool for a decade. Who'd blatantly lied to him, trying to manipulate him, when all along they were the reason the man walked the earth alone… until Dixon had come along.

Unsure what to do, because what they'd been through that morning definitely didn't fit into anything that might be covered in a "how to help your mate cope with life's issues" handbook, Dixon relied on his bear's instincts. He stayed at Benedict's side, making sure the man ate, answered any questions directed at his mate as best he could, and when Benedict just got up and walked out of the house, Dixon followed, not even bothering to make their excuses. Benedict's needs came first, and Dixon would walk over hot coals if it made his mate feel better.

"I'm thinking somewhere warm for our holiday," Benedict said after they'd been sitting on the bench in silence for about fifteen minutes. "I fancy sitting by a pool with a book and a drink, watching you frolicking in the water dressed in nothing but a pair of skimpy Speedos."

"Don't Necromancers swim?" Dixon teased gently. "Remember it wasn't that long ago I thought that would make an ideal holiday with you in the Speedos. Maybe I'd like to do some ogling of my own."

"I can swim to save my life, but that's all." Benedict leaned against his shoulder. "I don't think I've ever been this tired."

"You've been through a lot." Dixon reached over and took one of Benedict's hands, knowing his bear would lend his strength as best he could through their bond.

"Are you going to think I'm awful if I say I don't want to talk about what happened today?"

Dixon thought about the question seriously. He didn't think it was healthy for Benedict to just bottle things up, but he respected his mate's right to process things in his own time. "I understand why you wouldn't want to talk right now," he said slowly. "I just need you to know I'll listen if there's something you want to get off your chest, whenever that may be."

"I'm afraid if I start to talk I'll explode with the anger and pain I'm feeling," Benedict admitted. "I want to lash out, to hurt those who lied to my face for so long, and then I want to beat myself to a pulp for being so selfish – by leaving this place when I did, never pursuing what had actually happened to my family that horrible night. My mind is awash with what-ifs – what if I'd pushed sooner, what if I'd summoned my family back when this happened, what if I'd just refused to give into my grief and found out about my brothers sooner, what if… what if… what if… I know that's not helpful. I just need everything to settle for a while, to get some distance from it so I can gain a better perspective."

That made sense, and Dixon would respect his mate's right to think that way. But something was nagging at him, and he couldn't let it go. "I do have one question, if you don't mind me asking…"

"You always have at least one question, my lovely bear. It's just the way your brilliant mind works. I truly appreciate your unique perspective, because goodness knows I'm too close to see anything in this situation except the bark of the trees in the fucking forest of lies I've been surrounded with. Ask me, and I'll answer if I can."

"It's about that, actually. The Councilors lied to you…"

Benedict nodded.

"How did they do that when they were all under truth spells? You said the whole of the Magical Council offices were covered by those spells."

"I know, or at least, I know that's what should've happened. That policy has been in place for centuries." Benedict yawned. "That's one of the things that Langley is pushing the Paranormal Council to investigate right now. If one thing became abundantly obvious today, the Magical Council offices in London, at least, are rife with corruption on a major scale."

Dixon was glad to hear that was a Paranormal Council matter, but then he had a horrible thought. "You don't think they're going to ask you to replace one of the Magical Council members, do you? You are the lord in your family, you hold the title and now they know absolutely that you weren't responsible for your family's deaths…"

"I wouldn't do it. There's not enough money in the world to get me to do that." Sitting up, Benedict swung around so he was sitting sideways on the bench, resting his arms on Dixon's shoulder. "I can sit here in this maze and take some comfort from being here," he said quietly. "This land is a place I've known my whole life. But it doesn't feel like my home anymore. It's the Dule's home.

"I will always maintain it and keep everything in place because of the staff. The staff belong here. They are good people whose loyalty has never wavered, and they've built their lives around this place. I would never take that from them. And yes, it's my legacy, too, a part of who I am. But this place doesn't feel like my home. Not anymore. I miss my house in San Francisco. I miss leaning out of my attic window and catching that whiff of sea breeze. I miss getting coffee from Tony's. I miss wandering around the markets on Saturday morning…"

"Then maybe we shouldn't even think about a holiday, right now," Dixon suggested as Benedict trailed off. "We can just go home, and spend time there among familiar things and friendly faces for a bit. We can take a holiday anytime you want."

"You're sweet to suggest it." Benedict kissed the tip of his ear, sending a shiver down Dixon's spine. "But no, my precious bear. We've both gone through some major trauma recently. We need time in a place without phones or computers or people banging on our door spouting their nonsense. Somewhere private, just for us, with sunshine, food served whenever we need it, and a pool for me to sit beside. We need time to just be with each other, don't you think?"

"Sounds like heaven." Dixon groaned as he tilted his head to rest it on Benedict's. "How soon can we leave?"

"As soon as we've tied up all the loose ends here." Benedict sighed. "We'll sit down after dinner with Langley and work out how much more the Paranormal Council wants from us, and then, my wonderful bear, we'll be gone."

"Are you going to be all right?" Dixon was compelled to ask. "Today was…"

"A resolution, D. It was a resolution. I might not like what I learned today, but now I know. My family…" Benedict's breath stuttered and then he continued. "My family is safe now. No one can hurt them anymore. They gave their lives for me. My whole family gave up their chance of a normal life for me. I don't think I deserved that sacrifice, but my mother would tell you that wasn't my choice to make. It never was. It was theirs. My feelings about that are… conflicted ."

"It's possible your family sees in you the same things I do. That you're special, unique, amazingly strong, with morals any parent would be proud of. An incredibly powerful person who even though he knew it wouldn't hurt them, wouldn't throw fireballs through the spirits of his parents."

"That's a shot I'll probably regret not taking my whole life." Another long sigh, and then Benedict added, "My father was right though. It took a lot out of me, breaking the magic wielded by another. Especially black magic, and at the end of the day saving my brothers from their hell was more important than seeing three faces I pray I never see again go up in flames."

"I would've clawed those council members' faces off if it hadn't had been for Dr. Morgan's wards. I couldn't get through them." That had annoyed Dixon. It was his bear's right to avenge his mate and he'd been thwarted by something he could barely see.

"If you'd been chomping on council members you would've probably missed Wilson coming to get me." Benedict yawned again, turning on the bench, but this time lying back so his head was in Dixon's lap. "Everything happens for a reason, my mate. Wake me when it's dinner time, would you please?"

"We should go back to the house if you want a nap," Dixon protested. "This bench won't be comfortable."

"I'm not ready to go in just yet. I'd rather be here with you, breathing in the clean, fresh, natural energies around us."

"Understood, my mate." Dixon softly stroked over Benedict's hair as the man's eyes closed.