Chapter Four

They were lingering over their after-breakfast coffee when a car arrived to take them to the Council offices. Benedict saw the action as the typical power play it was. The Council would insist on controlling every aspect of their interaction from day one. He debated, for just a quick moment, whether or not to just send the car on its way, but then he reasoned that could cause trouble for the driver who was simply following orders.

He did send word to Jarvis to take his personal car into Scarborough for the day. It was the closest township to where the Magical Council had one of their side offices. The main offices of the Paranormal Council and Magical Council were in London, which was where Benedict assumed he'd be summoned to. But that was a four-hour drive, and someone on the Magical Council was clearly in a hurry to see them, so he'd been summoned to the Yorkshire branch.

There had been one little incident, when the council driver tried to stop Dixon from getting in the car. "I was instructed you were to travel alone, sir," he said, his cheeks red, and a bead of sweat trickling down the side of his face despite the chill in the air.

That might have had something to do with the glower Dixon was wearing, but Benedict smiled tightly and patted the man's arm as he waited for Dixon to get into the car. "It's fine. I'll take responsibility for this. Mr. Cottle is my mate. Let's not keep the Councilor waiting."

There was nothing the driver could do. It wasn't like he could physically drag Dixon out of the car by himself, although it would've been amusing to see him try. All the driver had done was put Dixon's bear in a bristly state, something Benedict tried to soothe on the twenty-minute drive.

"This is simply stage one," he said quietly, although he knew the driver couldn't hear them. He'd already magically disabled the recording device someone had slipped into the car speakers. "A means of collecting information about me at this point. Anything serious will go down in London, but we're not there yet."

"They're already trying to isolate you from any possible support," Dixon growled. "Honestly, what was wrong with us going in your car?"

"Our car, my mate, and that's just a power play, too. At the moment, we need to stay calm and volunteer nothing. Once they realize I have a shifter mate, they will likely try and provoke you, to give them reason to have you removed from any proceedings, so think soothing sweet honey and fluffy salmon, not prickly bushes and decapitations."

"The plane's on standby isn't it?" Dixon grumbled, but Benedict knew he'd been heard. "I could do a quick swipe with the claws, and we could be out of the country before anyone noticed anything wrong."

"I don't fancy us spending the rest of our lives as fugitives." Benedict couldn't help but laugh. He'd never felt so supported. "Your presence is what I need. You simply being in the same room with me lets me know I am not alone anymore. That means more than you could ever know."

"I'll behave. Me and my bear will behave," Dixon added quickly. "I just…" He let out a long huff.

"I know." Benedict left his hand on Dixon's knee. "You know, I've been thinking. Now the bookshop has been sold, and you've got managers in your company, we could take a holiday when this is over. Travel over to Europe and drool over ancient buildings there if you like."

"We can do that in summer." Dixon looked out of the tinted window. "Right now I'm dreaming of cocktails on a beach and you in a pair of Speedos. Nothing to worry about but keeping sand out of our privates."

"Very serious concerns indeed."

Benedict smiled as he spoke, but he frowned again when Dixon asked, "Did you get in touch with your lawyer? Is he going to meet us here? I'd feel better if you had a witness to whatever the hell is going on."

Shaking his head, Benedict explained, "I apprised him of the situation before we left the States. Once this business proceeds to London, which we know it will, he will act for me there. But he reminded me that having you with me is better than any lawyer at this point.

"Should anything be disputed, because you're a shifter and therefore come under the jurisdiction of the Shifter Council, they can verify you're not lying in anything you might be questioned about – a ruling the Paranormal and Magical Councils have to abide by. Otherwise there would be an interspecies war."

"I still feel like this whole business is partly my fault." Dixon was still looking out of the window. "If you hadn't had to deal with that changeling…"

"Nope. No blame shaming here," Benedict said firmly. "This hassle would've come up sooner or later. In fact, if anyone is to blame, I'm guessing it has to do with Paxton's death, and the new guy coming in and trying to make a name for himself on the Council by forcing my hand.

"It's either that, or someone in my family is making a nuisance of themselves, wanting to get their hands on my family's land, seeing as I've been out of the country for ten years. I think there are some laws around abandoned property and squatters' rights or something like that relating to the ten-year mark. That's what I mean. We don't know. So this is us doing some fact finding of our own as well. Guess we'll know soon enough." Benedict felt the tingle of the magical spells that kept the council buildings from being seen by non-paranormal eyes. "We're here."

/~/~/~/~/

It only took five minutes in the Magical Council building and Dixon was ready to fur out and decapitate anyone who got in their path. First, the man guarding the door didn't want to let Dixon into the building because "he's not a magic user, Lord Dule."

"I'm aware, but as he's my mate, under Article 57 of our Articles of Law, Mr. Cottle is welcome as my Fated One." Benedict smiled, although Dixon could tell his mate wasn't pleased. "If the Councilor who called this meeting would care to reschedule at another location…?"

Apparently any decision like that was above the guard's pay grade, and involved a hushed phone conversation before they were both escorted inside and instructed to wait in a small room that contained two chairs, a table, and nothing else. The scent of herbs and spices was overpowering, at least to Dixon's highly tuned nose, and he had a strong urge to sneeze. He rubbed his nose, trying to smell anything other than damn herbs.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'd forgotten about that," Benedict whispered, and Dixon felt the soothing whisper of his mate's magic. All at once the urge to sneeze disappeared. "Magic users are always scared of shifters and other paranormals scenting their lies, so the buildings are always full of what they consider natural scents."

"There's nothing natural about that stink." But Dixon did feel better. "Does whatever you've done stop me being useful for scenting lies and things like that now?"

Benedict gave a quick shake of his head as someone new came in the door. "Shot one has just been fired," he muttered, and Dixon only heard because of his bear.

"Lord Dule, Benedict. I can't believe it. It's been ten years and yet you don't look different at all. Still as handsome as ever."

The tall, round-faced, blond man was being too familiar, coming close as if he planned to embrace Dixon's mate. Benedict shook his head, no sign of a smile as he held out his hand for a quick shake. "Charles. How interesting. I expected you'd be in London. What are you doing up here?"

Charles. Charles. Where have I heard… Dixon glowered as he remembered. Charles was the name of the man Benedict had been forced to date to keep the peace at his job. The man who had been with Benedict the night his family home was blown up. Shot one, my ass. The Magical Council were pulling out the fucking canons.

"I doubt you've had a chance to keep up with the Council's goings on." Charles had that simpering "oh darling" tone that made Dixon want to smack his face. "Being out in the colonies as you have been. Such fun, I'm sure. But yes, I am very close to the Council members as you know, and when a little bird told me you were back in the country, I felt sure you'd want to see a friendly face." The look he shot Dixon with was pure dirt. "Benedict and I were sooo close, you know, before he went away."

"I know." Dixon wasn't going to let a simpering idiot stare him down.

"I'm surprised Alice isn't with you, Charles." Benedict slipped his hand around Dixon's arm. "My contacts, you know who I mean Dixon, they keep me updated on all the goings on, no matter where I am in the world. I can tell you Charles has been so busy since I've been living in the States. He and Lady Alice have been married, what is it? Six years now, Charles? And is it two children you have, or three? You've definitely had a busy, and productive time while I've been gone."

"Oh. Yes. It's three children. Alice and I are very happy." Charles's face looked like a bubble that had burst. Dixon could tell the man still had strong feelings for Benedict, and the stench of the lies were coming through.

Nice to know that part of me still works.

"As nice as it's been to catch up, we do have an appointment," Benedict said, plastering a polite smile on his face. "If you could let… ah, no need. I see we're being summoned. Take care, Charles and please give my best to Lady Alice next time you're in London. She and I used to be very close, too, you know, back in the day."

You lied to him. Dixon was shocked, but he kept their communication through their bond.

I know, but Charles doesn't know that. You can call me petty if you like, but I was so pissed off seeing him here. He was sent deliberately to rattle my cage. Now I've rattled him. He won't know for sure if I've met Alice before or not, but the idea that I might know her will fester like a scab on his ass, and he'll be picking at that for months.

That was a mental image Dixon didn't need to deal with, especially when a thin man with a pinched face who looked like a smile would crack his face in half instructed them to follow him down another long hallway, and into a larger room. The room looked like a library, with floor-to-ceiling bookcases covering three walls. A large desk dominated the center of the room. There were two people – an older man sitting as they entered, and a younger man standing by his side.

The older man looked up as they came in, peering at them over his glasses. "This is a confidential meeting. The shifter can stay outside."

"That's not happening," Dixon said firmly, ready to flex some muscle of his own. That business with Charles infuriated him and his bear. "There are no secrets between Fated Mates, so you can say what you have to say in front of me, and it'll save Benedict telling me about it later. Benedict, hon, why don't you have the seat. I'm happy to stand. You know, just in case my bear gets restless, and I feel the urge to pace."

Stick that in your pipe and smoke it, he thought angrily, as Benedict sat in the single chair provided and folded his hands on his lap.