"There is a gentleman here to see you."

Marcone looked up from his work, meeting the steel-blue gaze of his security consultant, and because he knew the Valkyrie so well he could he see her displeasure at this visitor's arrival.

"I wasn't aware of an appointment," he answered mildly.

"His arrival was… sudden."

He leaned back, brows dipping down. "I see. Did he introduce himself?"

"Senior Council member Ebenezar McCoy. I believe you know him."

"Not personally." But he knew of him. "Any… company we might have to expect in his wake?"

"Questionable, but we are prepared."

Marcone nodded at her to let their visitor enter. He doubted he could stop a wizard of McCoy's power and experience, though he didn't think the man would risk antagonizing him. He smoothed his expression into blank and professional, reflecting not a single emotions, body loose and still at the ready.

"Baron Marcone."

He didn't rise from his executive chair, leaning back in a way that relayed ease and relaxation. "Mr. McCoy. Or would you prefer Councilor?" John greeted the man.

McCoy waved it off. "Unnecessary. It's not an official visit."

Marcone inclined his head, taking in the slightly stocky man, bald, with a full gray beard, dressed in an outfit that spoke of the homestead he ran. He hadn't dressed up, nor had he hrown on the ceremonial robes of his standing. He rather looked like he had walked from his farm through a portal and arrived in Chicago. That might even be the truth. Keen eyes that belied his age met Marcone's, though not directly.

"Then we can break with the titles altogether," John said blandly. "How may I be of service?"

It got him a smile, knowing and sharp. Ebenezar McCoy took a seat without being offered one, answering Marcone's clear provocation with one of his own. John didn't react.

"As I said, it's not an official visit. You are quite aware of who I am, I believe."

"Quite."

Senior Council member, Harry's grandfather, his mentor, the man with whom Harry had been placed after Justin DuMorne's death, and also the man who would have had to deal with the teenager in a permanent manner should he slide to the dark side of magic.

Dresden had told him one day and it hadn't endeared the White Council to Marcone any more than before. He had felt a surge of such fury, it had surprised even him. Harry had been a child. A hurt, hurting and abused child, with an incredible potential, someone who had defeated so much stronger opponents and who had resisted mind-control and psychological games.

McCoy studied him and he seemed to see more than Marcone was currently comfortable with. His humorless smile said as much.

"I see he trusted you with his past."

"With enough of it." Enough to make Marcone want to hurt people, to make them pay.

"I know his past, Mr. Marcone. I know the good things, the bad things, the horrible and the terrible things. I know about a hurt and frightened boy who crawled away in pieces, his soul barely intact. I did my best, but I knew he was different. Not just because he defeated a dark wizard or an Outsider, something no child his age had ever done before. Not because he opposed power for no other reason than to show them that not everyone cowed. He was always powerful, but also head-strong, favoring to help the weak and champion for those unable to help themselves. He was a stubborn boy and he grew to be into just such a man."

"Yes, I noticed."

"To learn magic, stubbornness is not required. To handle it, it needs not just talent but concentration, patience and willingness to follow rules."

"Not his strong points."

McCoy smiled briefly. "They never were. Harry is an extraordinarily talented wizard. He simply lost the ability to trust in one's teachers, even his own family. I taught him for ten years, Mr. Marcone. I saw nothing of the darkness others claimed he was toying with. I only saw such potential and raw power, it was surprising he hadn't taken the step everyone was accusing him of."

Marcone raised an eyebrow.

McCoy shrugged. "I am the last of his family. He didn't know that for a while. I didn't tell him. At my age, there are secrets to keep, decisions to make, even if it hurts your kin, or might even be to their harm. I didn't think it would ever come this far, that he could ever reach so deep to handle the power he was gifted through his birth. There was always a last step he was afraid to take, scared to become what others accused him of being: a dark wizard, practicing black magic. For all I could mentor him, I could never reassure him that just because he opened up to the primal vortex, he wouldn't necessarily be swallowed whole. And then he found you."

Marcone didn't show a reaction. McCoy studied him, then grinned.

"Do you trust him, John Marcone? Do you trust him as much as he trusts you, relies on you? Because this is a two-way road."

"I have for years. With my people, my organization, and myself. Especially myself. Now, Mr. McCoy, I'm sure you didn't come this long way just for coffee and family chit-chat."

The wizard chuckled. "No. I came to see how my grandson is doing, considering how rumors run wild within the White Council. The Seniors are as of yet not sure how much truth there is to the rumors."

"Rumors?" He steepled his fingers, exuding an air of calm, businesslike interest. "Concerning…?"

"Harry."

"Of course."

Ebenezar smiled, but there was no humor in it. "Harry has always done things differently. I shouldn't be surprised that he had his shield and a very strong anchor already, before he ever realized it."

"Is there a point to this, Mr. McCoy?"

"Protective. As a shield should be."

Marcone just met the shrewd look, the mask firmly in place, not a muscle twitching. He had sat down with the Queens; he wouldn't reveal himself to a Senior Council member accidentally.

The powerful, old wizard smiled again. "You'll do just fine."

"I'm glad you approve," John answered wryly, lifting a corner of his mouth. "Not that it is any of your concern or a matter you could influence."

"He could have done a lot worse than you."

"Again, I appreciate the congratulations."

McCoy laughed, deeply amused. "I was privy to a lot of rants from the boy. About you. All the time. About your interference, your status of a Freehold Lord, about your perseverance to recruit him or have him work for you on a freelance basis. It should have been a first clue, but I didn't think Harry had already surpassed his limits and had accessed what he is."

"And now that you do know, what will you do, Councilor McCoy?" Marcone asked coldly, briskly, face a mask and every cell in his body screaming to protect his partner.

"Nothing. I didn't come here to exact any form of justice. Neither you nor him broke any of the Laws."

"I'm hardly in a position to break any of them. I am not a wizard."

"No. You are a Freeholding Lord and the anchor and shield of a powerful wizard in the making. Not many of us have such a partner. I didn't think he would find the emotional trust to forge a connection to a shield." McCoy looked thoughtful for a moment. "I am sure you're quite aware of his past relationships, his attempts to connect emotionally and failing. That he opened up to you of all people tells me more than whatever picture the newspapers paint of you. Or the police."

Marcone gave him a stoic look, refusing to be baited.

"As for my further actions: it is up to you, actually. Stay within the Laws and there will be no hunts."

"This is my Hold, Councilor," Marcone told him, voice flat and still filled with a lick of warning. "My rules. Mr. Dresden is part of this territory and I will not tolerate a hit on him in my territory."

Ebenezar snorted. "You really are as possessive as you are protective. But no matter your status, your power, or his: if Harry goes dark, there will be nowhere he can't be found."

Marcone leaned forward, unafraid to meet the sharp eyes, though he didn't do so directly. He wouldn't give him the pleasure of a soulgaze.

"I make it my business to know people of interest," he said, voice pleasant, almost friendly and conversational. "Getting to know Harry was also to get to know his family. You are a name he mentioned, a person of emotional value to him, Mr. McCoy. You were there for him after a time of abuse that would have broken others, nearly did break him. I am aware of your various positions, of who and especially what you are."

McCoy's face was unreadable, his expression suddenly hard. There was an air of danger around him that should be a warning, but John Marcone wouldn't have come this far if he had cowed at the first whisper of trouble. He knew the man was insanely dangerous, centuries old, and he could easily take out one simple mundane without fearing punishment. He was a cold-blooded killer and had been for centuries, sanctioned and approved by the White Council. The very White Council that had put the Doom of Damocles on Harry Dresden. The same White Council who had wanted to find a permanent solution to the roguish, troublesome and very powerful wizard in the making who was now John's partner. His wizard.

Marcone could be just as cold-blooded, especially when it came to the man he was meant to protect.

"You are the White Council's hitman," he stated directly, refusing to be intimidated. "The only one to be able to break all the seven Laws, to kill innocents without fear of repercussions, and you have done so in the past. You can go black and not fear repercussions. You are sanctioned to kill thousands, to use whatever you deem necessary and never face justice."

White brows rose. "You did your research. You have good sources."

"The best."

Donar Vadderung was one of the best-informed people out there. The man – god – didn't really owe him any favors, or debts, but John Marcone had been the first and only mortal to convince the CEO of Monoc Securities to branch out of his headquarters in Oslo to the US, setting up in Chicago and giving him a Valkyrie as a security consultant. He had also been one of the three signatories Marcone had needed to become a Freeholding Lord and signatory of the Unseelie Accords.

"Then you know not to mess with me, Mr. Marcone."

The smile was cold, shark-like, showing the predator behind the mask. McCoy wasn't the first powerful individual to threaten him, nor would he be the last. And Marcone had faced down a lot of monsters who showed their true faces as they taunted him, underestimated him because he was just a human mortal. Mundane. No powers to rival their own.

"I don't take threats against my person lightly, Mr. McCoy. I am very much aware that you can end my life with a flick of a finger. I also know that you would do it if you saw me as a threat to Harry, even if it would hurt him deeply. You would kill a shield to break a possibly dangerous magic-user, even if that person is you own grandson. Yes, I know who and what you are, but I also know that you are not a cold-blooded killer. You don't decide on a whim. You follow orders." He raised his eyebrows, holding the keen, sharp eyes that were studying him like an interesting subject under a microscope. "You have Harry's interest at heart, protecting him as you have before, even if the Council ordered you to kill him should he break the Laws again. To you I'm nothing; bothersome maybe, but not a threat. But I am also Harry Dresden's anchor and shield. I am a Freeholding Lord, the Baron of Chicago, a signatory of the Unseelie Accords. The White Council wouldn't simply frown upon such unsanctioned actions, because believe me, there would be more than a ripple."

McCoy was silent for a long moment, then his lips split into a wide grin and he laughed deeply. "I like you, Marcone. Very much. And I can see why he likes you. I could tell when he complained and ranted about you when we talked, but to finally meet the man in person, yes, you have guts. Lots of it. Like Harry. You don't cower before those more powerful than you and you don't roll over and play submissive either. You are his perfect counter-weight. Cold, ruthless, a hunter and never prey. You are so much like him and yet so much more in control. You are his balance and he is yours. Be aware of that importance."

Marcone met the older wizard's eyes without flinching, just shy of a soulgaze. He refused to be baited into one.

"How much of your knowledge will make it to the Council?" he asked, letting the warning bleed into the words again.

McCoy smirked. "This is a family matter for me. My presence here was to meet the man who is Harry's shield and anchor. Welcome to the family."

John raised his eyebrows.

"I may be part of the Senior Council, but this is a matter that has to run its own course, without interference. The Council is aware of something happening. The two of you won't remain hidden forever. You are too strong, growing into your abilities so much faster. You will attract attention one day; of a different sort."

John smiled blandly, refusing to let anything show. McCoy looked amused.

"Will you drop in on Harry or should I relay your best wishes?" Marcone asked conversationally, but there was an edge to his voice.

He didn't trust the powerful wizard even one iota. His appearance here, without informing Harry of his arrival or even asking for an appointment with the Baron of Chicago had left a bad taste. A very bad taste. It was common courtesy to announce one's presence, unless it was to attack or to spy.

"I think I'll leave that to another time."

Just as he had thought. It didn't help endear the man to him any more than he already had. Harry had next to no family left and this was his maternal grandfather. The man who had also mentored him. Also the man who had kept a lot of important and pertinent information from his grandson. And a man who seemed ready to kill his own flesh and blood, a teenager to boot, should he deem him on the road to the darker magics.

Something inside John snarled softly at the thought of first the abuse, then the threat of death by beheading, all resting on a young Harry's shoulders. Fury flashed through him, hot and unrestrained, like a living thing with a mind of its own.

"I believe Harry would enjoy seeing his family," he said smoothly, none of his thoughts translating into the words.

McCoy rose fluidly from the chair, belying his centuries, and inclined his head. "Baron Marcone, it was a pleasure meeting you."

John gave him a shark-like smile. "I wish I could say the same, Councilor."

That got him a chuckle. "We will hear of each other again. I'm sure I will hear about the two of you." With that he walked out the door, past Hendricks, who shot Marcone a quizzical look.

Marcone answered it with a look of his own.

"Will you tell Dresden?" Hendricks asked softly.

"Yes."

"He won't like it."

"Neither do I."