Knight's Vow

by Willofhounds

Summary:

When a new Lord or group signs onto the Accords they must have a Knight or group as Protectors. John Marcone didn't know this when he first signed onto the Accords. So the other Lords decide to give him one of theirs. Harry is the unlucky volunteer.

Harry shouldn't have been surprised when he was "volunteered" to become Marcone's Knight. After all, why would the White Council care about him? So he agreed to it expecting to be dead within the year.

Will John be able to give Harry a reason to survive?

Chapter 1

...

The summons to Edinburgh was not a surprise. He'd been half-expecting it ever since he signed for Marcone joining the Accords. His summons was with the order to bring Marcone with him. Not all that surprising as little things had to be added with his signing.

Harry, Marcone, and Mouse took the Ways to Endinburgh. Gard would have come, but she was busy cleaning up a mess, and, quite frankly, the Merlin would have a fit if she showed up. Not that harry was against anything that annoyed the Merlin. Hendricks came as a witness for Marcone's side.

"Dresden?" Asked Marcone as they entered the Nevernever.

"Yes, Mr. Baron?" Said Harry, his hand resting on his staff.

He was ready to fight off whatever attacked them. After all, it was only a matter of time before something tried to kill them. Next to him, Hendricks had his gun out with steep jacketed rounds.

"Do you know why we are going to Edinburgh?" Questioned Marcone.

His tone was casual, but he was tense. Harry could read the underlying tension from the time they worked together. He couldn't begrudge him. Harry was tense as well.

"Honestly," said Harry carefully, "I don't know."

Marcone looked at him and asked with his eyes narrowed, "Do you think it's a trap?"

That startled a laugh out of Harry, "For you, no. You're a signatory. They wouldn't dare."

For him? Harry wouldn't put it past them to try something. Again. He left it unsaid but it didn't go unnoticed by Marcone.

Marcone stepped around him and into his space. His face was calm and his hands loose. It was his eyes that told the real story. The coldness of his anger was clear to see. Mouse whined lowly, unhappy. Hendricks stopped as soon as Harry did and looked at them. Harry kept his gaze from meeting Marcone's.

"You do," whispered Marcone, his voice deadly soft. "You think this is a trap, for you, and didn't say anything. You are taking me to them despite thinking they are going to spring a trap on you."

Harry shrugged. What could he say? That he was surprised he lived this long? That the only reason he had lived this long was because of Ebenezar? How the hell did one explain that the White Council was more likely to stab him in the back than Marcone's own men?

"Let's get this over with, Marcone," sighed Harry.

Then he shoved past Marcone and continued to lead him through the Ways. He didn't look to see if Marcone was following him. He knew he was. He could hear his footsteps. He didn't want to talk about his relationship, or lack thereof, with the White Council. He didn't care to be judged by a man who was the head of the Chicago Outfit. He didn't care that he would be dead in the next few minutes, hours, days, or weeks.

They soon reached the first security checkpoint. He ignored Marcone in favor of giving the passwords. They went on like that until the final check point. Then finally, they entered Edinburgh.

"We're here," sighed Harry, "Stay close to me. It's easy to get lost in here."

He didn't have to tell them that it was dangerous to wander around. This was a castle full of wizards. There were dangers behind every corner. And not all of those danger were to do with the architecture.

Wizards weren't known to be welcoming of people not like themselves. Sure, the Accords granted a certain level of courtesy to everyone. That didn't mean they wouldn't find a way around the letter of the law. Not that it mattered to Harry, but he was supposed to keep Marcone alive.

Marcone didn't reply or give an indication that he heard. Instead, his eyes were roving the hallways. He took in every detail of the castle. No doubt looking for weak points. Though, what good that would do him, Harry didn't know. It wasn't as though the walls would crumble to a grenade blast. It would take a lot of magic to bring the place down.

Harry led the way to the meeting room where the signing had taken place. The doors were closed and two guards stood outside of the door. At their heels were the stone guardians. The three humans and then Mouse were checked for manipulation before being allowed inside.

Inside the meeting room was mostly empty except for the 7 Senior Council members. The Merlin and Ancient Mai sat on opposite ends of the table. In between was the other 5 councilors. Harry nodded to both Listen to Wind and Ebenezar politely.

"Welcome to Endinburgh, Baron Marcone," greeted the Merlin, "Dresden."

"Merlin," acknowledged Harry at the same time that Marcone did.

Merlin nodded to the open seats for them to sit. Marcone took a seat with Hendricks behind him. Harry stood a little away from the table. All he was, was the escort.

"I'm sure you're wondering why you have been summoned, Baron," said the Merlin, "Well, we have noticed an oversight when it came to the contract that was signed. Since it has been so long since a new signatory has come up it was overlooked thay you need a Protector."

Protector? Harry went through what he knew of the other signatories. Merlin was right. Each had at least one Protector. The Fairy Courts had their Knights. The White Council had their Wardens.

Harry felt ice running down his spine. Each Protector had strong ties to the Supernatural scene. Something Marcone's people did not have. Merlin's reasoning for Harry to come here as more than just an escort hit him.

"Of course, the only person suitable would be someone already in the know and part of our world," said the Merlin, "None of your people have been in this world for long. As an act of good faith we are willing to hand over one of our Wardens."

There was the trap. Stars and Stones, these mother fuckers. Of course the Merlin would take the chance to try and get rid of him. Fuck.

Harry stared at the wall. He could not meet anyone's gaze. He would rather not see the pity in some of the Senior Council's eyes. They were allowing Merlin to get rid of him. All of them could go fuck themselves.

"And which Warden would that be?" Asked Marcone, his tone coolly polite, but hard. "Surely you wouldn't want to lose a valuable asset to your organization?"

That was the thing, the Wardens were a very, very important and valuable part of the White Council. But Harry wasn't a trusted member of the Wardens. They saw him as a liability, and had ever since he was 16. No matter what he did for them. No matter how many times he nearly dies protecting the rest of the world from the Red Court, or the Denarians, or the Faeries. They still saw him as a risk. One to be removed. And now was the perfect time. A newly made Accord meant that they had an opening. One that could easily fit a wayward, black-wizard's apprentice.

"Dresden," said the Merlin, "He's the only Warden you have worked closely in the past. Allowing another Warden would be a security breach. Dresden is already familiar to you and your people. It's the easiest solution."

It was. It was the neatest solution to their problem. Hand him off to Marcone. Anything Harry did then looked bad upon Marcone and not them. On the other hand Harry would no longer be subject to their authority. He'd finally be free of them.

Marcone didn't answer right away. Instead his gaze was on Harry's. He seemed to be searching for something. For the first time since Harry picked him up for the trip, their gazes met. What he was looking for, Harry didn't know. He was waiting to see if Harry wanted this or not. Waiting for an objection.

Harry shrugged. It didn't matter what he wanted. Hell, the bastard would probably be happy to have a wizard on his payroll. Even a damaged, unwanted wizard that the White Council was tossing aside like last nights trash.

Marcone frowned at whatever he saw in Harry's face. Then turned back to the Merlin and the other Senior Council Members. Harry could see his shoulders were tense. His hands clenched and unclenched. Hendricks had his arms crossed and was glaring. Mouse had gone to lay at Harry's feet, whining softly in distress. The poor dog was picking on the tension in the air. Not to mention his and Harry's emotions.

"Very well, I will take Dresden on," agreed Marcone, his tone cold, "Under the condition that he is no longer under the preview or watch of the White Council. Any problems you have with him, has to be brought to me first."

"He is still a wizard," retorted Merlin, "And is bound to the laws..."

Marcone held up a hand to stop further arguments, "If he is to be my Knight, then he follows my rules. I would demand the same even if it wasn't Dresden. If you won't go by my demands I'll find a candidate on my own."

"Agreed," sighed Ancient Mai startling the rest of them, "If we are to cast, Dresden out then we must handle the consequences. Langtry, you cannot argue with him. He is correct. We are handing over a wizard. His protection would fall to the Baron now. Do you wish to renegotiate the Accords, or will the agreement stand?"

Merlin shot the older woman a dark look. She merely raised an eyebrow. Around the table, the other Senior Council Members were nodding. Ebenezar was the only one who looked like he wanted to argue. He would want Harry to stay under their purview.

"We'll agree to your terms," gritted out the Merlin, his teeth clenched. "Dresden, you are officially relieved of your duties as Warden and regional protector. An oath must be made through a ritual to bind you to the Baron."

Of course there was. Because nothing was ever easy. And the Merlin was using a ritual to do the binding instead of the simple handshake. That way there was no loophole to wiggle out of. No way for Harry to escape his fate.

He was trapped. Again. This was not a new feeling. From the time he was 16 years old the Council had been trying to tie him down and control him. Stars and Stones he was tired.

"Fine," huffed Harry. "What do I have to do and say?"

Chapter 2

...

John handed Nathan his jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeve. Across the room Dresden was doing the same under the watchful eye of Wizard McCoy. They were going to have a chat about how the Council had treated him. John wasn't pleased in the least bit. After all, they had tried to set him against Dresden. Now they were casting him aside without a second glance.

"Once you and Dresden are ready we will begin the spell," intoned the Merlin, "The circle will hold the power in place until the words are exchanged and the bond is sealed. Understood?"

John nodded, not trusting himself to speak. His attention was on Dresden taking in the uncomfortable body language he was giving off. The Wizard's body was practically vibrating in tension. Whatever the Council had on the young man, it was bad enough to make him wary of everything. Even a simple ceremony had him on edge. Though, to be fair the boy was never truly relaxed. Always waiting for the hammer to fall. He had seen that in their short time working together.

"Let's get this shitshow done," sighed Dresden, stepping into the center of the room, "You joining us, Marcone, or are we going to wait around all day?"

He was hiding his nerves behind bluster again. John was coming to understand him better. There was a pattern to his behavior. When he felt scared or uncomfortable he would hide behind bluster and bad jokes. He would become loud and try to deflect.

"Indeed," John replied.

He followed suit and stepped into the center of the room and joined Dresden in the middle of the circle. Dresden kneeled and John took his left hand at the wrist. The moment they touched the magic in the circle flared to life.

Dresden said bowing his head, "I, Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden swear upon my life and magic to serve, Baron John Marcone as his Knight. To uphold his laws and obey his commands. So I swear."

A tingle ran from his left shoulder down to his fingers. His skin glowed briefly. The feeling was not unlike when he signed the Accords. He tightened his grip on Dresden's arm. The man was trembling and his breathing was shallow and fast.

"Easy, Harry," soothed John before he recited, "I, Baron John Marcone, accept your service. As a Protector of the Unseelie Accords I will honor and protect you as if you were one of mine. You and yours are under my protection from hence forth. So says the Accord and the Law. So mote it be."

His skin glowed a soft yellow and the tingling returned to his arm. The circle closed and the spell was complete. Dresden immediately tried to stand only to sway. John steadied him.

Once the wizard was steady, he let go. Then stepped back and motioned to Hendricks that he could come closer. Hendricks handed him his coat and a folder. Inside was a standard NDA and employment contract.

Dresden gave him a tired look. But, reached out and grabbed the contracts. With a grimace, he quickly read through the paperwork. He didn't say a word. Just read silently and signed. Then he handed them back to John.

"Well," grunted Dresden, "What happens next, Boss?"

"Next," hummed John thoughtfully, "We return to Chicago. We'll figure out where to go from there."

"Okay," agreed Dresden.

...

Returning through the Ways exhausted wasn't Harry's idea of a good time. Still, that was his lot in life. Nothing ever went right for him. Especially not now that he was stuck with Marcone. Marcone finally got all he wanted from Harry.

He had a wizard in his pocket. One that couldn't disobey him, or go running to the council. No, that was no longer allowed. He was a tamed wizard now.

In the back of his mind, Harry could feel the weak bond between him and Marcone. It would strengthen or weaken depending on the actions of both of them. If Marcone abused his powers as his liege, the bond would weaken and break. That could end up killing either of them. He doubted that Marcone would abuse his new power over Harry. It wasn't his style.

"Dresden?" Asked Marcone as they hit the halfway point.

Harry hummed wordlessly in response. He didn't have the energy to speak. Instead, he focused on the path in front of them. All he had to do was get them home in one piece.

"What happened to your hand, Mr. Dresden?" asked Marcone.

Harry's hand flexed self consciously. He refuses to meet the other's gaze. Instead, he stared ahead. Why was his boss asking about that?

"It's nothing," shrugged Harry. "Just an accident. It's healing but it'll take time."

"That's a pretty serious burn to be an 'accident'," commented Cujo from behind him, his tone dry, "How did you get it?"

"An altercation with the Black Court," answered Harry shortly.

Marcone sighed, "You'll have to go over the different courts with me. But not today."

"Not today," agreed Harry. "Later, we're almost home."

Soon they came out of the Nevernever into a side alley of Chicago. Home sweet Chicago. At least here Harry could relax, and get some rest. Marcone relaxed a little as well.

"Alright," said Harry, his voice low, "We're home, safe and sound. See ya later, gentlemen."

Then he walked away only for Marcone to grab his arm. What the hell did the guy want now? He was tired and hungry and really needed a shower. Why was he being stopped?

"You're not getting out of the debriefing that easy," scolded Marcone, "Come, Dresden. Then we will take you home afterwards."

"Debrief," huffed Harry.

Of course there had to be a debrief. Damn these people. Can't he just have five minutes to decompress after the Council's shit show?

"It doesn't have to be difficult, Dresden," soothed Marcone, "It can happen on the way to your apartment. We'll even pick up whatever you want from Burger King."

Harry's stomach growled at the mention of food. When was the last time he ate? Yesterday? Yes, breakfast yesterday. Oh, wow. Food sounded amazing. His hunger won out. He wasn't going to turn down free food. Even if it meant spending more time with Marcone and his goon squad.

"Fine," grumbled Harry, "But, you do realize I eat a lot when I can right?"

That earned him an amused look from the entire group. Mouse nudged his leg and whined. Yeah, the poor pooch was hungry as well. Damn it, Harry, couldn't forget to feed his friend.

"Don't worry, Mouse," reassured Harry, "You'll get fed. Promise. And yes, you can have a Whopper, too."

Marcone directed them to a small black sedan. Hendricks got in the driver's seat while Marcone and Harry sat in the back. Mouse laid on the floor at their feet. Once everyone was buckled in, they headed to the nearest Burger King.

"I'm sorry," said Harry after a moment, "I should have known they'd try something like that."

"Like what?" Prompted Marcone, his eyes sharp, "Try to use you to kill me, or to cast you aside without a second glance. Which, Dresden?"

"Either. Both," admitted Harry with a shrug, "They've tried to get rid of me since I was sixteen. It was only a matter of time. If it wasn't this, then it would have been something else."

"Why?" Demanded Marcone.

His voice was a deadly quiet that promised pain to the guilty. It made Harry swallow nervously. For once, someone was upset that he was treated unfairly. No one had ever cared that the White Council used him as their scapegoat. Hell, he was surprised that the mobster was so pissed off on his behalf.

"They've had it out for me, since before I joined the Council," explained Harry, "I was 16 when I broke the First Law of Magic. The law against murder with magic. There were mitigating circumstances. And Ebenezar McCoy finished my training while I was put on probation. Right up until I killed Victor Sells actually."

"You were a child," argued Marcone, "Surely the Laws would have taken that into account?"

Harry snorted. He couldn't help himself from doing so. Right take into account that he didn't know the Laws? That he was 16? They wouldn't and didn't care. All the White Council saw was a kid that was the apprentice to a warlock. A boy that had broken their laws and killed. They didn't see a scared teen that was protecting himself from a crazed man.

"No," denied Harry, his tone harsher than he intended, "They didn't. And they still don't. Not too long ago they killed another Warlock here in Chicago as a warning. Then they would have killed my apprentice if I hadn't stepped in."

"I didn't know you had an apprentice," commented Marcone quietly.

"Yeah," agreed Harry, "Molly Carpenter. Her father is a friend. I will make sure she's trained. Besides, she's a good kid who made a mistake."

Harry ran a hand down his face. He nearly jumped out of his skin when Marcone passed him a bag of food. Shit, when did they arrive at the restaurant? How did he not notice the car had stopped?

There was a brush against his mind. Harry jumped half out of his skin. Marcone's emotions washed over him. Worry, concern, and amusement.

"Eat, Mr. Dresden," firmly said Marcone.

Harry did. He dug into his two double cheeseburgers, large fries, and milkshake. Next to him, Mouse was devouring his plain Whopper. At the end of the meal, Harry was feeling much better. He was less stressed and his shoulders weren't as tense.

There was another tentative brush against his mind. This time Harry didn't react to it. Then Marcone pulled back and things were silent until they reached Harry's apartment. Hendricks opened the door for him. Harry got out and nodded goodbye to both men. Then he and Mouse went inside and locked the doors.

"Fuck," sighed Harry, "What a mess."

...

John watched the Wizard, his wizard walk away and enter his building. For years he'd wanted Dresden at his side. Now, the other man was his. Yet, the victory tasted bitter on his tongue. It didn't sit right with him how Dresden had been handed over.

The White Council didn't deserve him. They were part of the reason Dresden was slow to trust. John was surprised when Dresden opened up. It wasn't much but he learned more in this car ride than in the decade he'd known him.

"Mr. Hendricks," began John, his eyes tracking his new Knight's movements, "Have Gard find everything she can on the White Council and their interactions with Dresden. Also, find his apprentice. Find her and put a few of our discreet people to watch her."

"Got it, Boss," rumbled Nathan, his own voice filled with anger, "We'll make sure that the White Council doesn't touch her."

"Very good," praised John, "Now, let's go. There's a lot of work to do."

Chapter 3

...

Harry ran a hand down his face the next morning. He needed to make some calls he knew. Especially to Murphy. She had to hear it from him that he was working with Marcone now. If it came from anyone else she'd never forgive him.

He picked up the phone and dialed her desk. After three rings she answered the phone.

"Lieutenant Murphy," she grunted annoyed sounding.

"Hey, Murph," greeted Harry, his voice hesitant, "How's life on the beat?"

"Fine," replied Murphy, her voice guarded, "What do you need, Harry?"

"Can't I call my favorite person in the world?" Deflected Harry, trying to delay the inevitable. "Or is that a crime now, Lieutenant?"

"Dresden," growled Murphy, her voice hard, "You know I've had a shit day. Don't play games. What. Do. You. Want?"

Harry sighed and his head dropped. Right no use pretending anymore. Time to rip the Band-aid off and tell her.

"I'm calling to say I won't be taking any police cases anymore," started Harry, his words coming out in a rush, "I wanted you to hear this from me before it got around the Supernatural circles and to SI."

"Hold on, Dresden," interrupted Murphy and she moved around her office.

She was likely closing her door. Harry felt bad. Really, he did. But, the faster he said his piece the easier it would be.

"Okay," prompted Murphy, her voice firm, "Say that again, Dresden. Why are you not going to be taking police cases? Or anything from SI?"

Harry took a breath and said, "I am sworn magically to Marcone."

Murphy choked. Coughs wracked her body. Harry could hear her sputtering through the phone. He could almost picture her. She was sitting at her desk, her chair pushed out and a look of horror on her face. Well, at least she wasn't yelling at him yet. That was a bonus. Maybe this would go better than expected.

Harry waited for her to regain her composure. Mouse laid his head on Harry's knee and whined. Harry placed a hand behind his ear and scratched. The big dog leaned into his touch. The coughing lasted several minutes.

"Are you done, yet, Karrin?" Grumbled Harry, exasperated, "If you are, can I finish explaining what happened?"

"You've fucking sold yourself to the mob!" Snapped Murphy, her voice a whisper, "What the fuck is wrong with you, Dresden!"

"Nothing is wrong," retorted Harry, his tone sharp, "I didn't have a choice. When Marcone signed the Unseelie Accords, the White Council forgot that every other major Accord member has a Protector. A magical Protector which Marcone doesn't... didn't have. So they offered the only member of the Wardens that has worked with Marcone before. Me. It's why I called you. I wanted you to hear it from me."

"Damn," whispered Murphy, her voice soft, "That's..."

"Crazy, fucked up," supplied Harry, his voice rough, "Yeah, I know. I'm sorry, Karrin. I'll miss working with you. If something major comes up we can meet at MacAnally's but I can't officially consult anymore."

"That's," started Murphy then paused, "Thank you. Thanks, Harry, for telling me. If you hadn't and I had found out from someone else, well, let's just say a bullet in the thigh would seem like a friendly hello between the two of us. Take care of yourself, Harry. And, don't forget, I'll always be your friend, no matter who you're having to standby."

That nearly had Harry choking. Trust Murphy to have his back. Even in the face of him being tied to the local Mob boss.

"Thanks, Karrin," thanked Harry, his voice thick, "Take care of Rawlins and the others. Bye, Murph."

"Bye, Harry," said Murphy softly and she hung up.

Harry sat in his armchair staring at his wall. Damn, he was really tired of the White Council's bullshit. At least now he'd have some peace. He hoped.

...

"You bound yourself to someone without inviting me!" Screeched Bob, "Boss how could you?! Was it sexy? Tell me it was sexy!"

"Bob, shut the hell up," ordered Harry, his voice low, "No, nothing about the situation was sexy. As to not asking you, I didn't have a choice. The White Council decided to reassign me and not even ask. I'm now the magical protection of Baron Marcone."

"Oh," whispered Bob, his tone sober, "Well, damn, that's not fun. What happens to Molly and her training? Aren't you worried that the Merlin will take her in for execution?"

"Over my dead fucking body," growled Harry, "If I know Marcone, he's put people on watching her."

"And you're okay with that?" Questioned Bob, his voice doubtful, "The Baron has a reputation, Harry. You should know that. After all, you've fought against him on many occasions. Are you sure he won't hurt her to force you to do something that you don't want to? Is she safe from him, or are the Knights of the Cross going to have to get involved, again?"

"Stars and Stones," groaned Harry, his head falling back, "I doubt he would. Marcone is many things but stupid isn't one of them. He will want my cooperation."

"Right," muttered Bob, "Still, that's a dangerous game that you're playing, boss. One that can easily blow up in your face. Tell me about the ritual."

And he did. Harry explained everything from the time he got the summons to the ride home. Everything. When he was finished, Bob was frowning. Or as close to frowning as a skull could. Harry frowned too. It was never a good sign when the spirit was upset.

"From what you told me," began Bob slowly, his tone measured, "It's a very powerful bond. The same if not stronger than the one that the Winter Court uses. Oddly though it goes both ways. He has sworn to protect you and yours. I've never heard of a Lord doing such a thing."

That was about right. Marcone never did anything by halfs. Not even a spell that was meant to bind Harry to him. Instead, the man had to make the spell go both ways. Now, Harry was protected. How was it that a man he constantly fought against gave him more protection than his own people?

"Thanks Bob," said Harry after awhile, "I owe you some new books."

"Romance novels, boss," demanded Bob, "Something spicy. None of those plain old boring books. Romance. With a hot cover and steamy sex scenes."

"Of course, Bob," chuckled Harry, his mood lightened. "Just for you, bud. Anything else, oh, mighty Spirit of Knowledge and intellect?"

"No, not at the moment," huffed Bob, his eyelights twinkling in amusement.

...

John had a list in front of him. Hendricks had given him a report on everyone that Dresden had in his life. Including his friends and associates. He was disturbed at how little the man had. There were less than 15 people on the list. His Knight deserved better. No wonder the White Council thought that they could treat him so poorly. They had no fear of repercussions because Dresden was alone. It made Dresden's wary nature understandable. After all, if the people that were supposed to support him didn't, why would anyone else?

The only oddity was Dresden's storage unit which was on a good side of town. He made a note to ask Dresden about it. Perhaps it was where the Wizard kept his potions and other ingredients. John did not think that the small, cramped basement that the young man called an apartment was the best place to keep flammable materials.

"What's the plan, Boss?" Rumbled Nathan from behind him, "Dresden has always been fiercely independent. He won't react well to a full security detail. He's likely to fight us, tooth and nail on it."

"Agreed," sighed John, "For the foreseeable future, I believe we should leave him be until we can be sure how cooperative he'll be with us."

The look he received told him exactly what Nathan thought of that. Still, there were advantages to leaving Dresden to his own devices. For one, the wizard was paranoid and not quick to trust. By allowing him to come to them, and showing that his free will remained, it would build a rapport between them. Then, perhaps, the wizard would begin to trust him and his people.

"Until then, we will keep our distance and observe," instructed John, his eyes steady, "We've already won him. Let's not scare him off, hmm?"

Nathan nodded his understanding.

Chapter 4

...

"Harry!" Exclaimed Michael, his voice warm and welcoming, "What brings you here? Are you staying for dinner? We're having a pot roast and potatoes."

"Hey, Michael," greeted Harry, his own voice guarded, "Only if its okay with Charity. I have news and I wanted to tell you and Charity before word gets out through the usual channels."

Michael's expression turned grim. His smile melted away and was replaced by a serious frown. He ushered him inside and into the living room. Mouse followed on Harry's heels. It only took a moment for Charity and unsurprisingly Molly to join them. They took their seats on the couch while Harry and Michael remained standing.

"Hey, Grasshopper," greeted Harry tiredly, "Charity. Before we get into this, Molly you remember where to go if I tell you to bug out?"

"McAnally's if possible," replied Molly, her words firm, "If not possible or if you don't show up in three hours, I'm to go to the storage unit and put the wards on lockdown."

"Good girl," he praised as he noticed how to stiff Michael had gotten.

"Is that a possibility, Harry?" Asked the older man, his tone calm despite the way his muscles had tensed, "Will Molly need to use the shelter?"

"Maybe," admitted Harry, his hands clenched tightly, "I have told you about my interactions with John Marcone?"

"Chicago's resident mob boss, yes, Harry," said Michael, "You haven't had to deal with him much lately, correct? Only in passing at meetings for the Accords?"

"Yeah," agreed Harry, his gaze sliding to the floor, "He signed onto the Accords. I was asked, ordered to bring Marcone to Edinburgh only to find out about something that was "forgotten" about. As a signatory Marcone needed a Protector and as a sign of good faith the White Council volunteered me."

"Volunteered," scoffed Charity, her eyes flashing, "You mean forced. Don't you, Harry? Saying no, wasn't an option was it? If it was you wouldn't be here telling us. And the storage unit... that was for the two of you in case things went bad, wasn't it? Somewhere no one would find either of you. A last ditch effort to save her life."

"That's right," admitted Harry tiredly, "I hope it won't be necessary but just in case. Another thing you should be aware of Molly, Marcone will probably have some of his men following you. If I know him half as well as I think I do, he's already given the order. If you think you see a Warden though Molly don't take chances. Book it to Mac's or the storage unit."

"Okay, Harry," agreed Molly quietly.

"Harry," started Michael then stopped, "Do you have a way to contact us if you are in danger? You'll have a lot on your plate now. Will we have a way to reach you?"

"Working on a stable way of contacting through magic," admitted Harry, "I'll be doing more experiments now. Call my apartment, office, Murphy, and as a last resort, the number to Executive Priority. Okay?"

"Alright," sighed Michael, his shoulders slumped, "Let's eat. Dinner is almost done."

"Food sounds good," said Harry, his mouth watering at the thought of the home cooked meal.

"Come on, then," said Charity.

...

It was on his way to Executive Priority the next afternoon that a realization hit him. Harry needed to take Marcone, Gard, and Hendricks to his storage unit. They needed to know what everything in it did. Especially Gard in case she needed to use his shield.

The shield looked like any of his other crystals on a string that he used for tracking. In theory, it would create a shield that completely encircled the user and everyone within a set diameter of the user. Unlike most shields it wasn't in just one direction or in a 180. Instead it was in a complete 360 including above and under the user. With enough power in the crystal it could theoretically hold off members of the Senior Council. If someone tried to break down the shield without the correct sequence the resulting explosion would take out a dozen blocks.

Harry was proud of that little piece of work. He was pretty sure that the Merlin or Ebenezar would have a hard time cracking that shield. Which was the point of his research. To have a failsafe in the event that he was ever found guilty of being a warlock, or in the event of a serious threat to his friends and allies. A last resort of a last resort.

He was still thinking of the different uses of the shield when he entered the building and was shown into the main conference room. Gard and Hendricks were there. Harry gave them both a polite nod in greeting. Both of the other bodyguards nodded back at him.

Harry felt more than heard Marcone approaching the conference room. According to the bond he was well and calm. Any of Harry's lingering anxiety quietened at the man's approach. Well, that was new. Since when had the mere presence of John Fucking Marcone calmed him down?

"Good afternoon, Mr. Dresden," greeted Marcone politely, his voice cool, "Have you settled things?"

"Yes, sir," responded Harry, his tone matching Marcone's.

Marcone blinked at the use of sir. Surprise and caution flickered across the bond. It was quickly suppressed. Oh boy. This was going to take some getting used to. A part of him wondered what Marcone was getting on his end.

"Excellent," hummed Marcone, his eyes assessing, "Do you have any questions for me? Or shall we get started on introducing you to the security protocols?"

Harry chose to go over security protocols. He could show them the storage unit later. It was a few hours later that Harry realized he was standing to Marcone's right and a step behind. Hendricks was on the left and a step ahead. Gard was bringing up the rear. Instinctively he had fallen into the position with the others.

Harry had to admit Gard had done an excellent job on the wards. It was far better than something Harry could make without a threshold. The rest of the group had to have seen him studying them as the tour was stopped in front of the wards. Each ward was explained in detail. Then the fail safes and contingencies were gone over.

Harry wasn't able to stop himself from making faces at the number of mirrors. Not many knew or acknowledged the dangers of them. Even the White Council was dismissive of the threat. Though, to be fair, most wizards didn't have the number of enemies that Harry did. Still, he was careful to mark each mirror in his mind so that he could reinforce the reflective surfaces against intrusion at a later date. No one needed a visit from his godmother.

A shudder ran through him at the thought and it was caught by Marcone. Fuck, he had to watch his expressions. Damn, the guy was observant. He'd have to ask if he was trained to read people. That would explain a lot. Like his ability to predict a move in the fight before it happened.

"Is there something wrong, Mr. Dresden?" Questioned Marcone, his head tilted in curiosity, "You seem tense. Is there a danger that we are not aware of?"

"I'm fine," replied Harry shortly, "Just don't like mirrors. Too many things can come through them."

Harry should probably check to see what was on the otherside of the Nevernever from here. Just to be safe. One could never be too cautious after all.

"Very well," accepted Marcone, his eyes thoughtful, "Gard, please, note that. Remove the majority of the mirrors. Keep a select few that can easily be covered."

Gard nodded and Harry was surprised. Marcone was taking his advice seriously?

"Why are you taking my advice seriously?" Asked Harry, curiosity getting the better of him, "Most don't."

"It is the duty of a wise leader to listen to his subordinates," answered Marcone, his voice smooth, "After all, they are the ones that have the information that could prevent a catastrophe. Besides, you wouldn't have brought it up unless there was a true risk. I distinctly remember you giving me advice during the Lupe-garou incident. I ignored your advice then and nearly died. That's not a mistake I'll make again."

"Lupe-garou?" Questioned Gard.

"Before I hired you," replied Marcone, "It was... nearly ten years ago now if I'm not mistaken."

"Almost eight," Harry corrected easily rolling the shoulder that took a bullet.

An echo of the pain went through him at the memory. He felt Marcone's attention turn to him fully then. His eyes focused on his shoulder. Yeah, that was not a fun night. It had been a hell of a fight. But, they won. Which was the important thing. Though, the scar was a reminder of the price of victory.

"I was going to put this off but maybe I shouldn't," murmured Marcone, "Nathan, go call Doctor Luka. Dresden needs a full workup."

"What?! No I don't," Harry snapped.

He did not want that. Really, he didn't. Why did everyone insist on poking at him?

"You've lost a lot of weight," argued Marcone, his face unreadable, "You are a member of my organization now. Everyone gets a check over when they become members of the Outfit. You are no different. Now, let me do my due diligence."

"I don't need it," insisted Harry stubbornly.

He folded his arms across his chest. Stars and stones didn't Marcone understand? As a wizard doctors wouldn't understand him. The only one he allowed to examine and treat him was Butters. Butters had gone through a true trial by fire. He was forced into the Supernatural scene when a group of Necromancers broke into the morgue that Butters worked in trying to find the Word of Kemmler. He'd also helped Harry when Harry decided to ride into battle on a reanimated T-Rex.

Ah breaking the Laws of Magic in front of a team of Wardens. Fun times. Necromancy it's only illegal if it's people. That technicality saved his hide.

Harry eyed the window considering if he could get through it before Marcone could bark an order. Still he shook out his shield bracelet. A shield however did little for Marcone pressing against the bond. Calm washed over him.

Marcone stepped into Harry's personal space then. Harry's body tensed and he had to fight the urge to run or lash out. He wasn't a fan of anyone in his personal space. Not even his friends were exempt from that rule.

"Nathan, Miss. Gard, give us a moment," ordered Marcone.

Both Hendricks and Gard immediately obeyed. They left the room and shut the door behind them. Leaving Harry alone with the Baron.

Marcone then stepped back giving Harry space to breathe. Once he was a few steps away, Harry relaxed and loosened his shoulders and hands. He took a breath and considered the mobster in front of him. What was his play?

Another sense of calm was pushed across the bond. Harry couldn't help but take a deep breath. He didn't realize how wound up he was until that moment. Harry met the Baron's gaze and waited for the other shoe to drop. After a moment Marcone spoke.

"Mr. Dresden," started Marcone, his tone measured, "I have no desire to hurt or humiliate you. My doctor will be discrete. He will not speak to the press, the police, or the Supernatural community. All of my people get this done so that I am sure you're healthy."

Healthy? That was a fairly relative term. Was he alive and able to function normally? Yes. Was he half starved? Also yes.

"Your concern is touching," drawled Harry, his voice laced with sarcasm, "I'm fine. I'm looked at by my own doctor friend whenever something happens."

"Indeed?" Questioned Marcone, his eyebrow raised, "Then where is the paperwork from the last examination?"

"Paperwork?" Retorted Harry, "You realize I can't go to a hospital right? My magic would end up killing someone."

"Then who is this 'doctor' you've mentioned and how have they treated you?" Pushed Marcone, his eyes narrowed, "Surely, if you were seeing a medical professional, there would be paperwork. Unless, of course, the good doctor doesn't actually exist and you are merely lying to protect yourself. So, Wizard, tell me the truth. Who is this supposed, 'doctor' that you're speaking of?"

"Butters," muttered Harry looking away from Marcone.

"He's a coroner," pointed out Marcone, in a reasonable tone, "If you were truly ill or infected, would the gentleman know what to do? Butters is good at what he does but he is a medical examiner."

"He's kept myself and the Alphas alive, Marcone," growled Harry, "He knows more about treating those in the supernatural community than any of your people."

"Perhaps, that is true," agreed Marcone, his voice still infuriatingly reasonable, "Still, I'm afraid that my word is final, Mr. Dresden."

"You can go fuck yourself, Baron," snarled Harry.

"Charming," commented Marcone dryly, "How have you not been taken advantage of by the White Court yet? It is an order, Dresden."

Harry growled again but he couldn't go against a direct order. Bile rose up in his throat. Damn the man to hell!

Marcone sighed. Then he walked to the phone on the conference table and dialed a number. The bastard was calling the fucking doctor wasn't he?

"Doctor," said Marcone, his eyes on Harry, "Yes. Please bring a full kit. We have a new employee. Yes. Goodbye. Dresden..."

"Fuck. Off. Marcone," bit out Harry between gritted teeth.

...

Despite his anger and protests Dresden was allowing Luka to do his job. John stayed close by in case he needed to intervene. He was surprised at the sheer amount of scars littering the wizard's skin. From what he saw, the wizard had been shot, burned, and stabbed multiple times. There were a few that were obviously knife wounds and a fair share of bullet wounds.

When John felt the phantom ache in his shoulder he'd thought that would be the worst one. Or maybe that the burned hand would be. Now he wasn't so sure. John knew that Dresden hadn't lived an easy life. This though, this was on an entirely different level.

The younger man was a walking mass of scar tissue. And that was only on his torso. John wanted to find the culprits and make them pay. No wonder Dresden was so distrustful. If this is the treatment he got from his allies, well, enemies were a completely different story.

"He's pretty underweight," observed Luka, his voice clinical, "Fo you know when the last time you had a physical was, Mr. Dresden?"

"A full physical? When I was 16 I think," answered the young wizard, his voice sullen, "At least outside of the times I've ended up in the emergency room. Otherwise a friend does my usual treatments."

"Which are usually field medic care," grunted John, sending calm across the bond.

Dresden twitched as the doctor listened to his heart and lungs. His pulse was high. Probably because of the stress of having a stranger examine him. John would need to fix that. He didn't want a stressed Knight. It was bad for business and a liability. Not to mention, a stressed knight made mistakes. Mistakes were a luxury that neither of them could afford.

"Right," huffed Luka, his brow raised, "Well, at the moment, there is no infection. My recommendation is small frequent meals to put some weight on him."

"Of course," agreed John, his mind already thinking of the logistics, "I will see that it gets done, Luka. Thank you for coming on such short notice."

"Any time John," replied the older man, a smile on his lips, "Good luck, Mr. Dresden. Try to take care of yourself. At least for John's sake."

"Fuck off," grumbled the wizard, his face red, and his posture stiff.

Luka laughed quietly before leaving them.

Chapter 5

...

After the doctor left they settled in Marcone's office. A couch and two chairs were in the center of the room. Gard and Hendricks sat on the couch while Marcone took a seat in a chair and motioned to the empty chair. Harry stubbornly remained standing.

"Mr. Dresden, please sit down," ordered Marcone, his voice firm, "We have a lot to discuss."

"I'm good, thanks," growled Harry, his eyes flashing.

"Dres... Harry," insisted Marcone, "I'm trying to avoid giving you orders. But you need to meet me half way."

A flash of sincerity came through the bond. Harry's shoulders slumped and he sank into the offered chair. He crossed his arms and leaned back. Well, at least the chair was comfortable.

"Thank you," hummed Marcone, pleased, "Let's begin. First, I would like to address the subject of your security. You're not going to like this but, we will have a team of three following you at all times. They will remain at a discreet distan..."

"No," refused Harry, "I can take care of myself."

He felt Marcone force irritation down. Instead, his boss projected calm and patience. Oh, that was a dirty trick. That wasn't fair.

"Harry..." rumbled Marcone.

"Marcone if you want to see how fast I can hex your people try me," threatened Harry, his voice low, "You have to compromise too, Marconee."

"Very well," relented Marcone after a moment of consideration, "What would be a reasonable compromise?"

Harry paused at that. What was a reasonable compromise? How could both of them win in this situation? Most of the time, he couldn't have someone following him. Marcone's people would scare off any potential clients and many of his contacts.

"We can't have people watching me around the clock," said Harry, his mind working overtime.

"Then, perhaps, a check in system," mused Marcone, his tone thoughtful, "It would work in a similar way to the system that the Wardens have in place. You would have a set schedule, that way we would know when to expect to hear from you and where you are. That way, if you miss a check in or are late, then I will have a recovery team ready to move at a moment's notice."

That wasn't a bad idea. He considered it for a few moments.

Then he offered in turn, "After a set amount of time from a missed check in."

"Of course," agreed Marcone, a small smile on his lips, "We will have a grace period to account for the difficulties that may arise in getting a hold of us. Perhaps an hour or two depending on the circumstances?"

"Alright," accepted Harry, "That's acceptable. If something major happens and for some reason I can't make contact with you I'll leave word with the Alphas?"

"The group of college students led by Mr. Borden?" Clarified Marcone, his head tilted in thought, "The werewolves that you've trained. Why them, and not Ms. Murphy?"

"Do you really want Murphy coming to your office?" Asked Harry amused.

"Good point," huffed Marcone, his amusement mirroring Harry's, "Very well. In the event of a major catastrophe that would prevent you from contacting us, then a message can be sent to the Alphas. Now, the matter of your living space."

"No," defensively denied Harry.

"From a security perspective, that basement is a nightmare," argued Marcone calmly, "There are no decent exits, the ventilation is poor, and the building itself is a fire hazard. You can't stay there."

"And you can fuck right off," retorted Harry, "It's mine. Just as my car is."

"Ah, yes," drawled Marcone, his eyes gleaming, "Your transportation..."

"Do you want to find out how fast I can hex all your cars? Because this is how you find out," warned Harry.

Gard gave him a look but he shrugged in response. There were a few things that he wouldn't budge on. His car and apartment were two of them. Neither were the best or safest, he was aware of that. Still, they were his.

Marcone caught his gaze and held it. He was one of the few people Harry didn't have to worry about a Soul Gaze with. Hell Marcone hadn't even flinched during their Soul Gaze. It was impressive and terrifying. After a long stare down, Marcone's jaw tensed and relaxed a few times.

Then he stood and stalked towards Harry. Instincts screamed at him to run or attack. He forced himself to stay still. He felt the bond steady him. Calmness washed over him. He was safe. When he was in front of Harry he stopped. From the corner of his eye he could see how still Gard and Hendricks became.

"Very well, wizard," breathed Marcone, "Keep the apartment. But Miss Gard will check your wards in exchange. My mechanic will also fix anything wrong with your car. Deal?"

"Deal," agreed Harry, a grin stretching across his face, "And the Blue Beetle stays the same. No upgrading her."

"Yes, yes," huffed Marcone, rolling his eyes, "As much as a disaster zone that vehicle is, I won't touch her. Besides, she has a certain charm that can't be faked. Is the storage unit yours as well?"

"Yeah," answered Harry, his voice cautious, "Yeah, that's me. You'll need to know how to use it just like Molly does."

"Molly Carpenter is able to access the unit," questioned Marcone sharply, "Why is that?"

"It's a shelter," replied Harry, his eyes narrowed, "In the event that the White Council decided that either of us was a threat or a Warlock, the storage unit has been warded to withstand an assault from the Senior Council. Including the Merlin and Blackstaff. It was a last resort. A fail-safe to allow us to recover and make an escape."

Specifically to the NeverNever. It could only be opened from one side thanks to his wards. Harry was proud of that little piece of work. It had taken him years to get it right. Gard was eyeing him with something akin to respect. Not fear or disbelief like the majority of his peers. Huh, that was new.

"Thank you for informing us of this," murmured Marcone, his hand on his chin, "We will have to investigate that area and determine if the protection is adequate."

"Agreed," nodded Harry, "But, it'll be me or Molly that lets you in. No offense, but the spells are delicate and very unforgiving. The wrong move and the whole thing is a crater."

Marcone hummed before he said, "I have a few magical bunkers. I had them made after the Lupe-garou incident."

"That's understandable," admitted Harry, "Stars and stones that feels like a lifetime ago."

That earned him a faint smile. After a moment Harry returned it with a small one of his own. Harry allowed himself to settle.

"Let's take a break," suggested Marcone, his expression thoughtful, "We can reconvene in half an hour."

"Sounds good," sighed Harry.

...

Getting some fresh air did Harry some good. His nerves were settled. Stars, his emotions were all over the place today. It was frustrating. One day, he would have to learn to control his emotions better. Especially to unexpected events. Maybe a visit to Ebenezar would do him some good.

The thought of his mentor gave him pause. He didn't belong with the Whote Council anymore. The thought stung. Even so, that was his reality. Could he keep in contact with the older man?

Harry ran a hand through his hair. Damn the White Council! Why did they have to do this to him? Wasn't his life difficult enough? They were supposed to help and support their members not sell them to the highest bidder.

He growled and released a spell and sent fire into a trashcan. The metal almost immediately began to melt. Harry watched the fire consume the material. For a brief moment, his thoughts turned dark. He could burn everything and everyone. Get revenge for every wrong the White Council had done to him. For every time he was accused of something he hadn't done.

No. NO. This was not the way to use magic. Magic came from the powers of creation. He would not abuse it the way his first Master had done. He was NOT JUSTIN!

Harry reigned in the flames and crouched down. Then he buried his head in his arms. What the hell was happening to him? These dark thoughts and the constant anger. Had he always been this angry?

A hand landed on his back. He flinched at the sudden touch. Slowly, he raised his head and met Marcone's worried gaze. Calm flowed through the bond. With a deep breath, Harry relaxed his shoulders. Okay. He could think now. He wasn't going to fly off the handle and kill someone.

"What happened?" Questioned Marcone, "One minute you were standing here and the next you were lighting a trashcan on fire. I could feel your fury from the conference room."

Harry refused to look at him. Instead, he looked at the melted pile of metal that had once been a trash can. There were no words to describe the turmoil in his mind. How could he put into words that the one group that was meant to protect him had sold him as if he was livestock. Harry was barely holding onto his sanity.

The rage was a beast that threatened to devour him. And the worst part was that he wasn't sure that that was a bad idea. Anger and hate was familiar to him. Marcone's presence however pushed down the anger.

Harry pulled away and he closed himself off the best he could. Marcone didn't allow it. He smoothed over the jagged edges of the bonds.

"You don't have to talk about it now," said Marcone after a moment, "But we will discuss it later. Come on, let's go finish the meeting."

"Okay," agreed Harry, his voice hoarse and low, "Yeah. Let's go finish up."

...

Once they were inside and settled again, the meeting got underway. Gard and Hendricks were in their respective chairs. Harry dropped back into his chair. Marcone took his seat and eyed him carefully.

"Now," said Marcone, "Rules. You already know my rule about no children."

Harry shuddered as he remembered the White Council. Age didn't matter to them if someone broke one of their laws. Even if that person didn't know what the laws were. Yeah, no, he didn't agree with that. That was a hard no.

"I'd like to start the process of getting formal alliances in place with those in the coty," said Harry, "I have contact with many different people who don't like the White Council. Before now I have also been working on a relay system for those with magical talent that aren't apart of the White Council. With a formal alliance with you as the Baron this would strengthen both theirs and your position."

As it stood currently, Marcone's position was very weak. The only real ally Marcone had was Vadderung. While the man was powerful, an army of one was not the best strategy. Harry had contacts with those who would accept to be under a banner. As long as said banner wasn't the White Council.

"Explain," ordered Marcone, his eyes narrowed, and a contemplative gleam in his eye.

"You have the title of Baron," explained Harry, "The first vanilla mortal to earn it. Two you have to keep it. You'll need allies. I can provide that. There are a lot of people that are in the city that would jump at the chance to become part of a Court. It's safety in numbers and a level of legitimacy that many of them wouldn't otherwise have. The Alphas would agree to a formal alliance. But there are many others in Chicago that up to this point they have kept their heads down. Most won't want to be there for battle but could work as an information network."

There was a flash of interest and pride from Marcone's end of the bond. Good. At least he knew that the mob boss was considering his words.

"Who, besides the Alphas, would join an alliance?" Questioned Marcone, his brow raised, "And, why would they choose to align with us?"

"Because," stated Harry, his voice firm, "Up to this point, the Accords have not had any protections for practitioners or minor supernaturals. Offer them a reason to standby you and they will."

"Very well," accepted Marcone, his tone thoughtful, "Find out their terms and we can begin negotiations."

Rules and expectations continued for over an hour after that. They set up a check in time and a list of emergencies contacts. By the end of the meeting, the sky was beginning to darken. The sunset was just starting to show in the horizon.

Harry groaned and stretched. He'd have to get home soon. Mouse would need to be fed and taken on a walk. Then, of course, his stomach grumbled, reminding him that he needed to eat.

Marcone looked up and a faint smile appeared on his face. Amusement crossed the bond. Stars and Stones. The bastard was laughing at him. Oh, yeah, because that was helpful. Really, really, helpful. Note the sarcasm. Still, the amusement was a nice change to the anger.

"Come on," chuckled Marcone as he stood grabbing his jacket, "Let's grab dinner. Then I'll take you home."

"I can walk home myself, Marcone," groused Harry, his eyes narrowed, and his arms folded across his chest, "I'm an adult."

"Harry," started Marcone, his voice amused, and his eyebrow raised, "Please, indulge me. Let's have dinner together."

Please. Harry's shoulders slumped and his posture loosened. How could he argue when the man was being polite and reasonable? And it was a good opportunity to see the man as more than just a mob boss. To learn how to interact with him.

"Fine," relented Harry, his body sagging.

Marcone lit up in happiness at the acceptance. Huh. That was interesting.

...

Dinner was quiet. They went to a small diner that Harry hadn't ever been in. The food was simple and cheap. Which, to be honest, was right up Harry's alley. He made a note to introduce Marcone to Mac. As a Signatory, he'd need to know the neutral grounds area.

John. Call the Baron, John. Harry corrected himself.

"Alright," sighed Harry, his burger finished and most of the fries, "What did you want to talk about?"

"The incident outside," replied John, his expression serious, and his hands folded in front of him, "Care to explain, Harry? You were furious enough that I felt the echoes of it through the bond. Yet, that isn't the normal level of anger that you exhibit. This is far beyond that."

Harry paused with a fry halfway to his mouth. He should have known this was coming. Telling Marcone was probably in his best interest but in doing so it'd be telling some of his closest guarded secrets.

"What have you been told about my past?" Asked Harry pushing away his food.

"Not much," admitted John, his head tilted in thought, "Your name, a general idea of the scope of your abilities. Your age. That is all."

"Okay, then," agreed Harry, his fingers tapping on the table, "When I was 16, I killed my first Master, Justin Demorne in doing so I broke the First Law of Magic. If it wasn't for Ebenezer McCoy I'd have died at their hands when I was 16."

"They'd kill a child," Hissed Marcone anger pulsing across the bond.

"Age is irrelevant to them," responded Harry his voice cold, "All that matters to them is that the Laws are followed. When they aren't the offender is executed. The only time they aren't is if a current member of the Council is willing to risk their own life to apprentice the offender to them. Then they are under a Doom of Damocles until the Council decides they are no longer a threat. Molly is under it and I was too until Sells."

"That's why you were so against me," realized Marcone, a frown in place, "You were afraid that if you worked for me that it would end in death..."

"Not quite," Harry admitted, "That was part of it. But you were trying to buy me from doing my job. It went against everything I stood for. Then after that... it felt like it would have been a collar. In the end, I was collared anyways."

Without thinking his hand came up to scratch at his neck. There was no physical representation of the bond. It wasn't a true magical leash. But, that didn't matter to his mind. All that mattered was that the bond was there. Like a ball and chain on his ankle. It was heavy and oppressive. A reminder of what he'd lost. His freedom and independence.

Marcone caught the movement and his expression softened. Sympathy flowed through the bond. No. Harry didn't want that. Not from the man in front of him. From anyone else and it'd have pissed him off. Now, instead, the sympathy was a soothing balm to the anger and hurt that was simmering in the background.

"Don't," whispered Harry, his gaze down, and his heart pounding, "Just. Don't."

Harry stood he wasn't hungry anymore. He didn't want to be around the mob boss any longer. Surprisingly the man let him go.

Chapter 6

...

The next morning dawned bright and clear. Despite the events of the last few days, Harry slept fairly well. He'd managed to get home in one piece and collapse in his bed. Mouse laid with his head on Harry's chest while Mister laid across his legs. His two pets were the perfect combination of heat and comfort. Hell's bells he didn't even dream. Which was a miracle in itself. Nightmares typically plagued his nights.

Now, however, it was time to face the day. Mouse needed to be fed and walked. Mister needed to be fed as well. Plus, Harry had to check his messages to see if he had any clients or new cases. Hopefully, someone had called. Anything to take his mind off of his current predicament.

Slowly Harry got up, dislodging his pets from their places. He made a quick trip to the bathroom before going to his kitchen for coffee. Once his brain was awake, he fed his pets and took Mouse on his walk. Harry watched for anyone who might be out of place. He wouldn't put it past Marcone to ignore his insistence not to have people watching him.

"See anybody, boy?" Asked Harry looking at his dog, "Anybody that shouldn't be here?"

Mouse's ears perked and he looked around them, then sniffed the air. After a moment his tail wagged. Apparently not. Maybe the Baron had listened Harry couldn't help but feel suspicious. Still, the walk was pleasant. The sun was warm on his back. After awhile they headed back to the apartment. On his way, he checked his mailbox and frowned.

Bills, bills, junk mail, and another bill. Damn. Well, at least there was nothing from the city threatening to evict him. That had to count for something. Right? With a sigh, Harry went inside. He set the mail on his desk and turned his attention to the phone and answering machine. A message. Maybe it would be from a new client.

"You have one message," announced the machine in its mechanical voice, "Beep!"

"Hey, Harry," greeted Thomas, "It's Thomas. Haven't heard from you in a few days and wanted to make sure you were okay. Call me, will you?"

Oh, yeah. He'd need to call his brother and tell him what happened. Oh boy that was not going to end well. Well it could be worse. He could be having that conversation with his godmother. A shudder ran through him. Yeah he'd rather jump in Lake Michigan.

"Right," sighed Harry, running a hand over his face, "I can do this. Just a simple explanation of how the White Council fucked me over. Again. Easy."

Oh who was he kidding? Thomas might actually try and storm Edinburgh and kill every member of the Senior Council. Actually Harry might sit back and watch him do it while eating popcorn. He only entertained the dream for a moment before he started dialing Thomas's number.

"This is Thomas," said his brother in his fake French accent.

"Thomas, it's me," greeted Harry, his free hand in his jean pocket, "Just got your message. Sorry I haven't been in touch. It's been a busy couple of days."

"Harry!" Exclaimed the vampire, the accent disappearing, "Empty Night, if you were gone for much longer I would have gotten Lara involved to find you."

"Sorry," winced Harry, his stomach churning at the idea, "Really, don't do that. I don't need to owe Lara any favors right now. Are you in a place to talk freely?"

"Sure," answered his brother after a moment, "What's going on? You're never careful about what you say on the phone. What's wrong, little brother?"

"White Council decided to fuck me over," answered Harry tiredly, "They used the Accords to give me to Marcone. All Signatories have Protectors or Knights when they sign. Marcone didn't, they gave me as a gift. I'm the Knight of Chicago now."

"Those motherfucking assholes!" Roared his brother, "I'll rip their balls and shove them down their throats! And Marcone! I'll.."

Harry felt the bond tug and he stumbled. He leaned against the table that his phone was on. A whine escaped him and that gave his brother pause.

"Harry, are you alright? What's happening?" Questioned Thomas, his voice tight and high pitched, "Where are you?"

"Home, stars, that hurts," groaned Harry, his vision blurring, "Shit. Don't threaten him, Thomas. Please."

The pain didn't disappear but the pull eased. Harry took a deep breath and forced himself to calm. Marcone pressed against the bond and sent waves of calm to him. Harry couldn't stop his breathing from evening out or his muscles from relaxing. The pain disappeared.

Finally, Harry was able to stand up straight again. He could sense Marcone's question. A wordless question asking if he was okay. Harry sent back that he was fine. He felt Marcone turn back to whatever he was doing.

"Okay," muttered Harry, his head still spinning from the change in pressure, "I'm good. Damn, that hurt."

"Harry," demanded Thomas, his voice tense, "What the hell is going on?"

"That was the bond," admitted Harry, "I'm meant to protect him and you threatening kicked it into overdrive. The bond is still settling I think."

"Fuck," cursed Thomas, "I'll be more careful about what I say then. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," insisted Harry, "Surprisingly he treats me well. Yesterday he had a doctor check me over. Then we talked shop. We're figuring things out. So far he treats me fairly."

"Good," huffed his brother, a hint of anger in his voice, "You know I'll do anything to help, right? Just say the word and I'll call in some favors. Or you can come and stay with me."

Harry smiled a little. It was nice to have someone that would fight tooth and nail to keep him safe.

"Thanks, Thomas," chuckled Harry, "But, I'm good. If I need a favor or to get away, though, I'll let you know. For now, it's just a wait and see thing. I'll figure it out."

"Alright," grumbled his brother, not sounding pleased at all.

Marcone's attention was back on the bond. It was just a quiet observance. He wasn't pushing or pulling on the bond. He was just observing Harry's mental state. Weird.

"Talk to you later?" He asked.

"Yeah," replied the vampire, his tone lightening, "Later."

Harry hung up and scratched at his cheek. Thomas wouldn't attack Marcone, unless the man did something stupid. The White Council however, we'll they deserved it. Harry would actually enjoy observing Thomas rip them a new one. That left him with a small smile as he started to pull out numbers of the contacts he had in the city.

...

It took two days to set up a meeting with the different low level factions. Mac agreed to house the meeting as long as it remained peaceful. Harry had no doubt that his friend would enforce the peace. Mac's pub was one of the main neutral grounds of Chicago. This was a perfect opportunity to bring the factions together to work towards a common goal. Namely a formal alliance to secure everyone's safety.

As the appointed hour drew closer, the bar began to fill. Harry was pleasantly surprised to see Elaine and her second walk in. She gave him a gentle smile. In a surprising move, she crossed the room to hug him. He returned the hug after a moment.

"Long time no see, Harry," greeted his childhood friend and fellow wizard, "How are you? It's been a couple of years and phone calls just aren't the same. What is going on Harry?"

No, they weren't.

"You'll have to wait for everyone to get here," explained Harry, his hands in his jeans, and his stance relaxed, "Once everybody's settled, I'll explain."

Elaine frowned and her brow furrowed. A hint of confusion and concern flickered in her eyes. Her gaze slid to the others that were filtering in. Then to his newer clothes. He'd dressed in his best jeans and a button up shirt. Finally her gaze focused on his shoulders and his jaw. Understanding filled her face. She knew him. Better than almost anyone. They'd been through hell and back as kids. There was a lot of history there. Despite everything that Justin DuMorne had done, that hadn't changed.

He gave her a tired smile. Yeah, she got it. Probably not the specifics, but enough. The White Council had fucked him over. Again.

"Oh Harry," breathed Elaine, her hand coming to cover her mouth, and her eyes filling with pity, "What did those bastards do to you this time?"

"Let's wait until the meeting to start," requested Harry, "Please?"

"Of course," accepted his oldest friend, "Whatever you need, Harry. I'll help."

"Thank you," sighed the taller wizard in relief.

Finally everyone arrived. It was a motley crew of various supernaturals. Many wizards and wizardress who didn't have the power to join the White Council, shapeshifters, Wyldfae, hell Harry thought he saw Toot. Even Michael was there as a representative of the Knights of the Cross.

"Thank you for coming everyone," said Harry stepping in the middle of the gathering and causing everyone to quieten, "I realize it's not a common occurrence to call everyone here."

A rumble of agreement came from the group. Everyone's guard was up. Understandable. This wasn't a regular situation. Usually the lower ranking members of the supernatural community kept to the shadows and stayed off of the radar of the major players. Now, Harry had brought a majority of them together in one place. Their unease was understandable.

"As most of you know," continued Harry, "I am Harry Dresden, once a Warden of the White Council. I am no longer a member of the White Council."

Another ripple of noise. This time a mix of surprise and suspicion. The White Council was feared and hated by the non-signatory beings. No one really liked their heavy-handed approach to dealing with situations. Or that they wouldn't help the practitioners unless it benefited them.

"Due to the terms of the Accords," explained Harry, "Every Signatory must have a Protector. John Marcone is Baron of Chicago and the leader of the Outfit. As a show of goodwill to him the Merlin decided to kill two birds with one stone. He got me out of the White Council and gave a gift to Marcone. I am now the Knight of Chicago."

Silence. Deafening silence. Everyone stared at him in shock. Harry couldn't blame them. It wasn't a secret to the people of Chicago that he and the Baron didn't get along. So, to find that the man was in a position of authority over him was a surprise. There were a few looks of sympathy and empathy. Most of the faces were blank and expressionless. Though, a few were full of anger and concern. One who held that was a surprise Artemis Bock. Honestly Harry hadn't expected him to even show up.

"I have called us all here," announced Harry, his posture straight, and his voice steady, "Because I have an offer to make. Baron Marcone has what few others in our community can claim. An army. However they are mortals and his strongest ally is Donar Vadderung. Not a weak or useless alliance. However, it is a solitary player. My proposal is an alliance between the minor supernatural groups. In return for your loyalty and assistance when called upon, the Baron will provide protection and legitimacy under the Unseelie Accords. With the backing of a Court and a legal standing, each of the groups represented will no longer be in fear of execution if seen or caught. Anyone interested can stay and we can discuss the details. Otherwise, thank you for your time and have a good night."

For a moment no one moved. They merely looked at their neighbors. Trying to gauge how everyone else was feeling and thinking. Bock was the first to stand and approach Harry.

"Answer me something on your word, Dresden," said Bock, "Can we trust his word?"

"On my word and power," agreed Harry solemnly, "Baron Marcone if there is one thing you can trust about him, its his word. No more kids, Bock."

There was a flash of understanding through Bock and the crowd. If there was one thing they all hated when it came to the White Council, it was there actions against children. Especially young practitioners.

"No more kids," agreed Bock and held out his hand to Harry, "I'm in, Dresden."

Harry took the offered hand and shook it firmly. A few left but most stayed willing to hear Harry out.

Chapter 7

...

It took several hours to take down each groups terms and what they were willing to give in exchange. The Alphas took it upon themselves to act as a go between in the negotiations. While they known friends of Harry's they proved they could act as a neutral party. Billy and Georgia were a surprisingly calming influence. They helped to mediate the discussions and defuse the arguments. Groups were made so that there were fewer individual agreements to be made. The Alphas picked up a few new shapeshifters to add to their group.

At the end of the night, several non-aggression pacts were written out and two formal alliance rough drafts were made. Harry would take them to John later. The biggest surprise was Toot-Toot and his declaration of loyalty to Harry. Apparently, the little faerie had grown an attachment to him and chose his loyalty to Harry over flipflopping between Winter and Summer depending on the season.

"Alright, that's everything," sighed Harry, putting away the paperwork, "Thanks, everyone, I'll send messages through the Alphas if there needs to be more negotiations. Mac, can the pub continue to be a meeting spot?"

Mac gave an affirmative grunt. Harry smiled in response. Elaine approached him a moment later. Her face had softened considerably and a look of determination was clear on her features. She'd had the most questions during the negotiations at the same time she was one of the biggest supporters. Once the idea of the alliance was proposed and explained she'd been on board. She'd just wanted to know the fine print of the deal.

"This is good work, Harry," praised Elaine, her tone honest, and her body language open, "But, why didn't you have the Baron present tonight? Surely, he could have answered the questions better than you could."

"Because," drawled Harry, his voice dry, and his lips quirked in a smirk, "If the Baron had walked in the door half of the group would have bolted. He has a reputation. I wanted to give everyone the chance to hear it from me and then make a decision. Rather than reacting on their first instinct. You understand, right?"

"Yes," hummed Elaine, her eyes narrowed in contemplation, "I do. Good plan. Will you have the Baron meet with the representatives to finalize the deals?"

"Yeah," confirmed Harry, his brow furrowed in thought, "He'll need to sign the contracts himself for it to be valid. I'll keep everyone updated."

"How do you know you can trust his word, out of curiosity?" she asked after a moment of silence.

"When we first met," he answered slowly, "He tricked me into a Soul Gaze with him. I was mad about it at firsts but after dealing with him for almost a decade now, the knowledge allows me to understand and read him better than anyone alive. Well except for maybe Hendricks."

"What did you see?" pressed Elaine, her head tilted in question.

"I saw what made him create his rules," he answered cryptically, "I won't tell you more than that."

"Okay," accepted the blonde witch, her shoulders relaxed, and her expression calm, "Fair enough. Just... Be careful, okay, Harry?"

"I'm always careful," defended the younger wizard, his expression offended, and his arms crossed across his chest. This earned him a flat stare from the older woman. "Really!"

"Uh huh," snorted the other magic user, a knowing gleam in her eye, "Right. I'll see you later Harry."

"Later," bid the young man, a smile on his face and his expression fond.

Elaine waved before leaving. Slowly the room emptied until it was only the owner and his regular customer. Mac however shooed him out soon after only allowing him to finish packing. Once done, Harry left money to pay off his tab. Briefly he considered going home but reconsidered looking at the papers. He should take them to John as soon as possible to give him time to consider them. Was John even awake right now?

He jumped a little when he felt the bond stir. There was a sense of alertness and interest that came from the bond. Huh, he was. That was convenient. Time to grab the Blue Beatle and head to the estate then.

...

John was in his office wrapping up paperwork when he felt Harry arrive. A glance at the clock told him that it was 11 at night. Gard and Nathan had long since gone to bed. He knew it wasn't unusual for Harry to work all kinds of hours but he hoped to work on it if only. But that was a matter for another day. Right now, he'd be called a hypocrite. Afterall, he was working well into the night as well. With a sigh, he put his papers to the side and stood to go to the door.

He reached the front door right in time for Harry to knock. The young Knight looked worn and tired. Yet, there was a glimmer of accomplishment and satisfaction in his eyes. In his hands was a stack of papers. Curiously, he raised an eyebrow and stepped to the side to allow his Knight entry. However Harry waited shifting from foot to foot. It took John a moment to realize what he was waiting for.

"Please, come in," welcomed the Baron, a small smile on his lips, "Would you care to sit in the study or the living room?"

Harry blinked at him before he replied, "The study's fine."

"Then, this way," said John with a warm smile.

Harry stepped inside and John placed a hand lightly on his shoulder after shutting the door. There was a small flinch but his Knight didn't move away from him. Progress. Small progress. Still, progress. Smiling a little wider, he guided his companion down the hallway. When the entered the study, his Knight immediately went to the fire and warmed his hands. John went to his liquor cabinet and poured them both a glass of whiskey and returned to Harry's side.

"Thank you," whispered his Knight as he accepted the glass, and took a sip, "Damn that's the good stuff. What's the occasion?"

"You're here and not being forced to," joked John with a smirk in place, and a teasing note in his tone, "That is cause for a celebration."

"Oh, ha-ha," snarked his Knight, his expression dry, and his tone unimpressed, "Hilarious, Marcone. Really, a laugh riot."

Despite the unimpressed tone John sensed the faintest hint of amusement across the bond. He turned and led the way to the chairs in the middle of the room with a coffee table in front of him. His Knight sat in the one across from him and handed him the papers he brought with him. Taking a curious peek at the top page, his eyebrow rose in surprise. They were rough drafts of alliances groups and a couple individuals. His Knight worked fast.

"Well," said his Baron impressed, and his gaze locked onto the younger man, "You certainly have been busy. How did you manage to pull the various parties together?"

"Neutral grounds," admitted Harry, "Most of these people I knew already through one situation or another. So, I used the contacts that were willing to negotiate to spread the message and called a meeting. Most showed, some stayed, others didn't. Dewdrop fairies I have been allies with for years swore loyalty to me. I'll ensure they know how to contact you if they need to."

The last part was said hesitantly and he felt Harry's skittishness. Was he expecting John to get angry with him? Because he was loyal to beings that were not John himself? John wasn't unreasonable!

"Harry, look at me," commanded John softly, and he waited for Harry to do so, "I'm not angry. You are allowed to have your own friends and connections. As long as they don't betray us, that is fine. Okay?"

"Okay," sighed his Knight, his body sagging slightly, and his mind calming, "Thanks."

"Its no issue, my Knight," dismissed John, "Let's go over these contracts, alright?"

They settled in to discuss and edit the contracts. By 3am both were struggling to stay awake. Eventually, it was decided to call it a night. At John's insistence Harry took the guest bedroom.

Chapter 8

...

Dresden was not a morning person. That much was obvious. Despite having slept in, the wizard was slow to wake. He was on his third cup of coffee and hadn't touched the breakfast John's staff made. Even so, he was slowly coming to life. Nathan and Miss Gard were not so subtle in their smirks at the younger man. John was trying not to laugh at the grumpy look on the other man's face.

It was odd seeing his Knight like this. Normally the wizard was wide awake and aware of his surroundings. Especially around John. This was a unique opportunity to see him vulnerable.

"So, you'll look over the final copies and let me know if the terms are agreeable?" Asked Dresden, his fingers drumming on the table.

"I will," agreed the Baron, "The once that are finished already I'll send to the representatives. Is there a formal meeting that goes along with the signing or is it a more casual event?"

Dresden seemed to consider it before answering, "I believe most would prefer an casual event signing. Coming to an office or meeting in neutral grounds like Mac's. I think the only ones that should have a more formal event would be when creating the network for those with magical talent but not strong enough to join the Council."

"Ah," acknowledged John, his brow furrowed in thought, and a frown in place, "Will the White Council interfere with their organization?"

"Not likely," admitted his Knight, his head tilted in thought, and his eyes narrowed, "Unless they start to break the Laws. Otherwise, the White Council will see them as beneath their notice."

"Have you alerted your Godmother to you change in allegiance?" Asked Gard.

Godmother? John watched as a mixture of emotions flash across Dresden's face. They were mirrored in the bond.

"Godmother?" Questioned John, not pushing but he was curious.

Dresden's jaw clenched and his gaze was fixed on his coffee. The tension in his frame spoke volumes. Whatever the history was, it was unpleasant and painful. He was reminded that the other man was a mystery to him. Despite the nearly decade they had known each other, he knew next to nothing about Dresden before he came to Chicago.

"Can we not talk about her right now?" asked Dresden in a quiet voice.

His Knight sounded vulnerable. As if the conversation was a minefield that would result in him getting hurt. He glanced at Gard momentarily before he nodded. He'd get the basics from Gard and the rest from Dresden when he was ready. Provided that there weren't issues beforehand. For now, his Knight had given him a lot to do.

"Before I forget again," said Dresden after a moment, "We need to take a trip to my storage unit."

"Storage unit?" repeated John curiously, his brow raised in question, and a thoughtful look on his face.

"Yeah," confirmed his Knight, his fingers drumming against his mug, "Its mine and Molly's bug out plan if the White Council ever decided to kill us."

Now, that was an interesting piece of information. A storage unit prepared in the event of a fight. One that would allow his Knight and his Apprentice to escape to somewhere safer. Not a bad idea. Especially in light of recent events.

"Is it safe to assume that there are supplies and weapons?" questioned the Baron carefully, and his hands steepled in front of his face.

"Yeah, and a couple ways out of the city," replied his Knight, a grim look on his face, and his expression serious, "Including into the NeverNever that can only be opened one way. I'll show Gard how to activate the defenses."

John felt pride flow through the bond from his Knight. Pride in his planning and preparation. It was well deserved. Dresden had planned and created an impressive failsafe. It was not originally intended for John and his associates but he was willing to share his backup plan. That was a huge gesture of trust from his Knight.

"If that is everything," commented the Baron, his smile warm, and his tone pleased, "Then, I think that's the end of our discussion. Unless you have something to add?"

Instead of immediately denying it, Dresden thought about it. After a few minutes, he shook his head no. His posture was looser and his expression open. Seeing him relaxed, made something in John ease. His Knight was a force of nature. Always in motion and doing something. To see him at peace was a rare sight indeed.

"Right," started Johm, his tone calm, and his body language mirroring his Knight's, "Unfortunately I do have other appointments today, unless you can show me this evening?"

"Sure," shrugged his Knight, and stood, "I'll write down the address unless you'd rather me just tell you the location?"

"Either is fine," answered John, "I'll follow your judgment on this."

He felt the bond shift a little as Dresden considered it. Finally, the young man scribbled the location on a spare piece of paper. Then, his Knight handed him the slip. With a small nod, his Knight left the room. Once alone, he turned his attention to the stack of paperwork that was waiting for him.

"Alright, lets get to work," ordered the Baron, and the others followed his lead.

...

Later that night, John pulled up to the location. Dresden was standing by the door to the unit. To his surprise Miss Carpenter was by his side and they were talking. The woman had her arms crossed and a scowl was in place. She looked irritated at best. John could feel Dresden's amusement and the moment he felt John approaching.

The dark haired man nudged the girl and she looked at him in confusion. He jerked his head in John's direction and the woman's face cleared in understanding. She gave a quick goodbye and disappeared. Then Dresden met him halfway.

"Sorry," apologized the wizard, his stance sheepish, and his expression apologetic, "She was adding to her own bug out kit. She had to make a last minute run to pick up the medical supplies she forgot. I've started a kit for you as well."

He had? Well, that was surprising. Although, perhaps not. His Knight was certainly proactive in his protection. Adding someone to his emergency plans was a logical step in his new role. Though John would never abandon Chicago. It was his home and the people his responsibility. Still having multiple places to use in case of emergency was just good planning.

"Thank you," smiled John warmly, his shoulders relaxed, and his hands in his pockets, "I appreciate the forethought. Shall we?"

"Yep," grunted his Knight and led the way to the unit.

As a whole the entire area was secure even before they got to the unit. There was nothing special about the unit on the outside. In fact, he would have assumed it was just like any other. Dresden opened it like it was nothing allowing John, Gard, and Nathan inside. The door was locked behind him and he felt a slight push against his skin. Magic.

Dresden stepped forward and muttered a word under his breath. At first, nothing happened. Then, the floor began to glow. Runes appeared in a circle on the ground. They were intricate and complex. Lines interwove together to form the runes that all connected to a pentagram. Each rune glowed a different color. A hum of power filled the air and a sense of pressure.

Next to him, Gard and Nathan staggered a little. John only felt it settle over him. Like a warm blanket on a cold day. Dresden began to explain the wards and how to activate them to Gard. If something were to happen to Dresden then the knowledge would not be lost. Also, if they needed to enter the unit, the could without worry. Once finished, the group went through the shelves of supplies. It was mostly weapons, medical equipment, and food. It was far more than what John had expected of his wizard's bug out area. Obviously he'd spent a significant amount of time preparing the place.

"You weren't kidding, Dresden," commented Gard as she examined his wards, "This could likely hold back the White Council for days."

"Thanks," grinned his Knight, his tone proud, and a bounce in his step, "If I'm going to prepare for a war, I'm not going to half ass it. That's not my style. I'd much rather go down swinging. If that means taking a chunk of the Council with me, all the better. Particularly if they are trying to hurt my apprentice as well."

"Speaking of the young lady," inquired John, his head tilted in question, and his expression curious, "Where will her training be taking place? Here, at her home, or the mansion? Will her mother and father need a guard?"

Dresden snorted, "Put a guard on Charity. I dare you. She'd tell them off in such a way they'd want to quit. Michael can take care of himself and the White Council wouldn't dare hurt him."

There was a flicker of something across the bond. Something that John couldn't quite identify. His left hand flexed. That was the one that he injured a few years prior against vampires if he remembered correctly. The bond didn't give him anything else. Just a vague feeling of unease. Interesting. What could cause that reaction?

"Charity is that skilled?" asked John, his brow furrowed, and his gaze narrowed,

"Yes," he insisted.

John trusted his word. If his Knight said that the woman could handle herself and didn't need a guard, he'd listen. However, his apprentice would still have a detail. Dresden gave him a look. One that made the Baron think that somehow, someway, his Knight knew he was assigning guards. Instead of arguing, the wizard let it go.

Then Dresden went to one of the corner to where a bag was and motioned to Gard. Curiously, John watched the two. His Knight reached in and pulled out a string with a crystal on it. He was explaining how to activate some kind of shield that was used through it. Then he explained how to deactivate it. It came with a warning.

"If not done correctly," Dresden warned, "The backlash will take out this and the surrounding buildings. It cannot be buried under or gone over."

"I understand," acknowledged the Valkyrie, her tone respectful, and her gaze focused, "It'll only be used in emergencies."

"Good," nodded the wizard, his body relaxing, and his expression relieved, "I don't even want to imagine the destruction that would happen. This is a last resort weapon. Got it?"

John was thoroughly impressed by his Knight. Not only had the man created a hideout, but also a last stand weapon. It wasn't a foolproof plan and there were holes, but that could easily be rectified. He approached his wizard and placed a hand on his shoulder. Instantly, the man's attention was on him. John gave him a warm smile.

"Well done, my Knight," praised the Baron, his tone sincere, and his expression pleased, "Very well done indeed."

...

What was he supposed to do with that? Praise was not something Harry was used to. From Marcone, the praise was genuine. It wasn't empty or a trap. Hell's Bells, the guy was proud of him and his efforts. Harry didn't feel the need to shrug off the hand on his shoulder either. The touch was grounding and his shoulders eased down. His muscles relaxed and his breathing slowed. Damn. He hadn't realized that he'd been on edge the entire time.

"Right," coughed Harry, his face flushed, and his hands in his pockets, "Well, that's about it. Any questions or concerns?"

"No," replied the mob boss, his voice calm, and his eyes searching, "However, in the future, if you create a bolt-hole or similar location, I would appreciate being informed of its existence. Okay?"

Harry nodded his acceptance. That wasn't an unreasonable request. Especially considering the situation. The hand squeezed his shoulder again. This time, the thumb moved a bit and rubbed a circle on his shoulder. Harry settled more and his eyes closed. Almost instinctively, he leaned into the touch. He felt Marcone's initial shock followed by satisfaction.

"Anything else we need to know, Harry?" Questioned John and Harry shook his head.

John removed his hand and stepped away. Immediately, Harry missed the warmth of his presence. Stars and stones, what was wrong with him?

Chapter 9

...

In the next week, most of the alliances had been solidified. The ones that were a little more complicated would take a couple of weeks. But, the majority were in the final stage. Things had been going really well. And unfortunately because it was Harry Dresden's life that's when things decided to go right down hill. There was some deity out there laughing at him. He was certain there was.

Running through the NeverNever with Michael was never his idea of a good time. Yet, that's exactly what was happening. Michael requested his assistance. Of course Harry being Harry had said absolutely and did not ask questions. One day he would start asking questions but that day was not today.

"Stars and fucking Stones!" Roared Harry in frustration as they dodged another attack from the creatures chasing them, "What the hell, man! You said a simple retrieval!"

"It was," defended the older Knight, his tone exasperated and his sword slashing at the creature, "I didn't expect the place to be crawling with goblins and whatever that is, Harry."

"Fair enough," sighed the wizard, his blasting rod flaring to life, and his staff held aloft, "Fuego!"

The fire raced towards the beasts. They screamed in pain and agony. A few of the smaller ones fell. The thing about goblins however, there was always more of them. They really needed to get back to the exit before the Erlking decided to see what all the noise was about. He really did not want to see him again.

"Run faster, Michael," ordered Harry, and his hand grabbed the sleeve of the other man's armor, "We have to get out of here now. I promise you, you don't want to meet their lord."

There was not a chance in hell he would say the fairy's name here. That would be asking for trouble. More so than the current situation. As they ran, the light of the rift grew closer. It was a thin line of white that seemed to glow. Harry poured on the speed and practically dragged the former knight through it. On the side, they landed in a pile. Panting, Harry's mind spun. Then the bond between him and the Marcone roared to the forefront of his mind. He had to shove it to the side in order to focus.

Pointing his staff at the rift he shouted, "Aparturum!"

Instantly the rift slammed shut. With a groan, the wizard collapsed onto his back. Stars and stones, his legs were aching. Every part of him was throbbing in pain. Michael sat up next to him and began to check Harry over. Annoyed, Harry swatted at his hands. He was fine. Well, he would be after once he had a shower and cleaned his clothes. Ewww goblin blood.

"Stop it, Michael or I'm telling Charity this was all your idea," whined the young wizard, his expression a grimace, and his body aching, "I'm fine. Just bruised. How are you?"

"Same," admitted the other man, his posture tired, "And it was my idea, Harry. Can you move?"

"Yep," answered Michael, his feet shuffling under him, and his staff supporting his weight, "Let's go. Molly will have the medical kit on standby."

The two shuffled out of the building that Harry had used to enter the NeverNever through. Strangely Molly wasn't at the meeting spot and so they had to trek to the nearest payphone to call the house. Charity answered the phone and promised that she'd be there soon to get them. That did not fill Harry with confidence. Though the feeling in the bond did not make him feel any better either. He didn't think that he had missed any check ins. So what was John's problem?

Charity showed up in the family van. Her husband got into the passenger seat while the wizard got in the back. She immediately turned her attention to the wizard.

"What did you get, Michael into this time?" she demanded.

"Oi!" exclaimed Harry, "He asked for my help!"

She glared at him and then her husband. The man didn't look the least bit bothered. Then again, he rarely did. Shaking her head, the woman started the car and began to drive. The ride was quiet as the two were exhausted. By the time they got to the Carpenter household, Harry was half asleep. He was startled awake by a knock on the window. Charity had a frown on her face. When he opened the door, she spoke again.

"Come on," sighed the woman, her tone resigned, "Lets get the both of you patched up."

"I'm not sure that's necessary," mumbled the wizard, his posture stiff, and a yawn escaping his lips, "Really, I'm just banged and bruised. Nothing serious. I just need a hot shower to get... goblin off of me."

"Then a quick examination," huffed the auburn haired woman, her arms crossed and her toe tapping, "Besides, your... Baron is on the way."

She spat the word Baron out like it was a curse. Great. Just what he needed.

"What does he want?" asked Harry almost to himself, "I haven't missed any check in. We were only in the NeverNever for..."

"Three days," interrupted Charity shutting Harry up.

Fucking NeverNever and it messing with how time flowed. That explained why Molly wasn't there waiting for them. She'd likely been worried sick. It also explained why the bond had been frantic as soon as he stepped back into the regular world. Also meant no matter how much he argued he would be getting looked over. Whether that was by one of John's people or by Charity that was up to him. Charity it was.

"Fine," grumped Harry following her inside.

Michael had already gone in. No doubt to shower and reassure his children that he was okay. Only Molly noticed Harry entering and she raised a hand in greeting. Once in the bathroom, Harry stripped of his battle gear and entered the shower. The hot water was a relief. As was scrubbing the dried goblin blood off of him. It was disgusting and the smell was not appealing. Finally, clean, he dried and dressed in fresh clothing that had appeared at some point. Likely from Charity.

He was towel drying his hair as he stepped out of the bathroom and carrying the clean shirt. He knew better than to wear it when Charity was just going to order him to remove it when she was ready to look him over. So, bare chested and damp haired, he wandered into the living room and plopped onto the couch. He grabbed a few of the antiseptic wipes from the first aid kit and began treating his injuries.

For his part, Michael's bruises were already being looked at by Charity. Michael didn't look as bad as he had in other times they had come back from taking on one supernatural creature or another. His armor had taken the worst of the attacks but there were still a few cuts and bruises in places the armor couldn't protect. Other than that, he was in one piece. Which was a blessing.

A knock on the front door had Molly off to answer it. A moment later, the blonde apprentice was leading a furious looking John into the living room. Behind him was an equally pissed Hendricks. Both of their expressions were stormy and neither were hiding their emotions well. Belatedly Harry realized he still had his side of the bond blocked. Something he'd done on instinct when he needed to focus. How was he supposed to unblock it? He was a dead man.

John didn't say a word as he immediately approached Harry. He had his usual suit jacket on. Without a word, the man took the medical supplies from the wizard. At this, Harry had a very bad feeling. Hesitantly, he lifted his arm and let the older man check him over. For his part, Marcone was professional. Harry didn't dare complain as he usually would.

Instead he worked on figuring out how to remove the block. It didn't take long as it wasn't strong since he threw it up on instinct rather than being intent on doing so. The only reason why it had worked at all was because John had allowed it. Immediately, the connection snapped open. Concern, worry, anger, frustration, and relief crashed through his senses. Harry was drowning under it for a moment. Then, the tide receded and the flow was regulated. John was controlling the amount of emotion flowing down the bond. While the younger man appreciated it, he was certain that was not a good sign.

When his injuries were treated John stood again. His gaze went to the others in the room. Michael had moved to sit in an arm chair and Charity was eyeing John with distaste. Harry really hoped that she wouldn't provoke him into a fight. Especially after a week of signing contracts and making alliances.

"My apologies for the intrusion," said the mob boss, his tone polite and his voice calm, and his expression closed, "If you'll excuse us, I'll be taking my Knight home. There are a few things we must discuss."

Michael looked to Harry first. It was useless given that if John ordered him to, he wouldn't have a choice but to obey. If anyone were to attack John he would be forced to intervene. Still, his friend wanted to ensure his safety. So, Harry nodded in the affirmative. Satisfied, Michael gave the Baron a nod and a slight smile. Harry got to his feet and was firmly directed out by a hand on his shoulder.

Hendricks was a silent sentry behind them. Once in the car, the ride was tense and the mood of the occupants was dark. Harry kept his mouth shut for once using his head. He had a feeling that anything that came out of his mouth would only make the situation worse. Not to mention the mix of emotions that were swirling in the bond. No, the best option would be to keep his mouth shut. Let John work out what he was going to say and hopefully explain when given the chance.

Upon arriving at the mansion, John dismissed everyone else and indicated for Harry to follow him. Silently, the wizard followed his Baron. They ended up in John's personal office. It was decorated in the same neutral colors of the rest of the house. Though this space had a warmer feel to it.

"Sit and stay," ordered John.

The oath and bond reacted at the same time. One moment he had been standing in the middle of the office. The next he was sitting on the carpet blinking in surprise. Stars and fucking stones. What the actual fuck?

John let out a sigh and looked tired. He didn't retract the order however. Instead he sat in the armchair that was across from the couch and leaned his elbows on his knees. His hands were interlaced and his gaze was fixed on the young wizard in front of him. Harry met his gaze trying to read him.

"I'm going to ask some questions, Dresden," stated the mob boss, his tone cool, and his eyes narrowed, "You are going to answer them. Do not even attempt to lie or omit information. Understood?"

"Yes," replied the wizard, his tone subdued, and his body stiff.

"Good," sighed John with a searching gaze, "First question, did you know that you were going to be gone for three days?"

"No," admitted Harry meeting it, "I would have warned you if I thought it was a possibility. For Michael and I, it was only an hour. Molly was to wait outside and call for backup should things go wrong."

Which they had. But, that was beside the point. It wasn't uncommon to lose time in the Nevernever. It was a different plane of existence. A warning he had gone over and over again with Molly. Only to fall into the trap himself. At least it had only been a couple of days.

"Alright," accepted the older man, his expression softening a touch, "What happened?"

"Michael asked me to come on an retrieval mission," explained Harry, "It was supposed to be a quick in and out. I agreed and the place was infested with goblins and whatever the other thing was. Piece of advice do not piss off the Erlking."

"The who?" Questioned John, his brow furrowed in confusion, and his gaze intense,

"He's the lord of the Goblins," elaborated the wizard, his shoulders easing and a grimace in place, "Like a Faerie King in a sense. Unfortunately I made an enemy out of him during necromancer incident."

"Ah," muttered the Baron in understanding, "Very well, and the last question, were you injured beyond what was visible?"

"No," denied Harry, with a shake of his head "Bruises, aches, and cuts. That was it. I swear, John. I'm fine. When I blocked the bond as we came back through, it was an accident. I needed to focus on closing the rift."

John considered him. His expression was blank and his eyes were cold. Harry felt the bond swirling with emotions. However, nothing was clear enough to identify. Slowly, the tension in the room eased. He nodded almost to himself. Then he stood and approached Harry.

"I believe you," commented the Baron, and placed a hand on his shoulder, "Stay here tonight. I think its best. We'll talk more in the morning. I'll have the staff make you something to eat."

"You don't have to do that," argued the wizard, his frame tensing, and his stomach grumbling in protest.

Traitor. Although, he was hungry. Especially after throwing around as much magic as he had. John gave him an amused look. He didn't say anything in response and helped the younger man to his feet. The order was lifted and Harry could stand and move again. Thank the stars. Being stuck on the ground was not fun.

"You're my Knight," insisted John, "It is my duty to ensure you take care of yourself."

Harry couldn't argue that. So he allowed himself to be pulled to his feet.