A/N: See profile for Disclaimer, no more author notes will be put on this story after this chapter.

I walked into the building. It was soul-less, steel and inorganic; Marcone, a business man at heart, would naturally be completely at home here. I walked past the front desk even as the receptionist blustered and futilely tried to stop me. I jabbed the elevator button and waited, my black leather duster settling comfortably around me under the grey cloak of the Wardens, which fluttered over it and didn't seem to want to fully sit on me. I guess the animosity was mutual. I walked into the elevator, half wishing, half praying that it wouldn't give out at this moment. Elevators and I never seemed to get along, and they can be really scary after you've had a number of ugly monsters from the Nevernever drop on you within their confines.

I looked to my left as Thomas rocked back and forth on his heels with a kind of suave, but contained edginess. I knew that the coffee stop was a bad idea, but I needed the caffeine and the fairies that keep my apartment in order were apparently on board with Molly's dieting idea and had yet to stock any Coke in the fridge. The worst part was that I couldn't ever share the blasphemy with anyone, or the fairies would stop helping me. Stupid fairy laws.

"Don't say it Harry, that waitress was hot and you know it," Thomas said out of the corner of his mouth. I glared at him, he stared back defiantly. He had fed on her, just a little, but I hated watching him do it; always made me feel horribly uncomfortable. He however, insisted that if I needed a pick me up, so did he. I was bewildered by his presence, since I hadn't expected much when I had called him asking for help, but he was here and I wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth, or anywhere else for that matter.

"We need to be together on this," I growled as Thomas looked away and stared at the mirrored finish of the elevator. I knew he was having an internal struggle of some kind, but I only had suspicions as to what. We straightened up and put on our best poker faces on as the elevator dinged. I tried not to act surprised that we had survived as we stepped onto the top floor of the building. The glass windows gave a spectacular view of Chicago, looking almost like the scaled up version of the Little Chicago I had had in my basement lab not that long ago.

A woman sat behind a beautiful curved mahogany and cherry wood desk. I had a hard time correlating the hard steel and metal with a beautiful organic piece like this. It was so…out of place.

"Can I help you, sir?" asked the woman behind the desk. Her hair was pulled back, exposing her lovely if stressed features. Her hazel eyes were not focused in any direction as was usual for a secretary who took a lot of phone calls. I just pointed at the door and asked, "Is he in there?" with my usual eloquence.

"Yes sir, but he is not open for appointments at the moment," she tried to say as I breezed past her. I gripped the handle and looked over my shoulder at Thomas. He nodded and we strode through the door. I took stock of the situation in a few moments and drew my blasting rod as the two occupants stood. One drew a stick of wood, I raised my blasting rod, being beaten by Thomas only due to his vampire strength; Marcone was last but just as deadly. We all stared around the circle, waiting for the tension to break.

"Who's this?" the teenager asked in a British accent.

Marcone narrowed his eyes and then his lips twitched upwards in a small smile, "Harry, meet Harry."

"What?" we both asked at the same time. The teenager's eyes narrowed at me and his stick of wood started to glow a bright purple. I raised my shield bracelet very slowly. His eyes flicked to my bracelet, then my blasting rod and finally to my face. I tried to look away before it started but I was too late, and he jerked as the Soul Gaze started, or should have. The Soul Gaze is an unstoppable force of nature that all wizards are capable of. It allows the wizard to see into your soul and see you for who you truly are, no tricks, no hiding. However, it goes the other way too, and you see the wizard in the same manner. It is supposed to be unstoppable once started, but I felt a jarring sensation as he snarled and instantly I knew something was wrong.

"You can't go that far before a dinner date, pretty-boy," he said flippantly. His stick of wood switched from purple to a dull forest green COLOR and a curl of smoke was coming off the end. Thomas quietly poked my back, breaking me out of me reverie.

"How the hell did you block a Soul Gaze," I asked incredulously. 'Harry' simply waggled his eyebrows.

"Is that what that was? I thought it was Legilimency," the younger Harry said as he lowered his wand infinitesimally, although the COLOR remained on the tip of his stick. Marcone also lowered his weapon so I figured I could do the courteous thing and lower mine as well, but experience has taught me otherwise. I heard a rustling as Thomas adjusted his position to have a better shot.

We all stood there staring at one another in what could have easily been a Mexican Stand-off. Marcone made the first move. I nearly blasted him into a 30 story drop.

"Since you decided to interrupt my meeting I suppose I will have to rise above and be the gentleman, as per usual. Please gentlemen, lower your weapons, and have a seat. We will conclude whatever business you have first so I may get back to more important matters." Marcone motioned to a chair as he sat behind his desk. It was another construction of organic wood that seemed out of place amidst all the steel and glass.

"You have some answers that I need Marcone," I said without sitting. He cocked an eyebrow and I shifted so the blasting rod was more visible. I realized that there was something seriously up if I had managed to get past Marcone's main lobby without any response from Hendricks.

Marcone merely motioned to the chair; I jerked a little but stopped myself and sat down, Thomas behind me and to my left. I stared down Marcone, unafraid that we would enter a Soul Gaze since he had managed to force me into it some time ago.

"Where's Hendricks?" I asked as casually as possible, trying not to sound worried he might show up at that moment and beat me to a pulp.

"He is out on business," came the curt reply. "What can I do for you Mr. Dresden, since you have the nerve to interrupt my meeting?" I settled on just being outright honest; because, you know, who doesn't like honesty?

"I need you to use your contacts to find out where a child is. She is quite important to me and is in grave danger. Do you think you can find it in your busy schedule to you help me?" I asked, unable to suppress all my sarcastic powers. I hoped it wouldn't come to it, but to save Maggie, I'd have gotten on my knees and begged like most men would have.

"And how is this child important to you Mr. Dresden?" Marcone asked, although I guessed that he had a fair idea exactly whom I was talking about. There was nothing that happened in Chicago that he didn't know about.

"She's mine." I said in as even a voice as I could manage. I didn't need to say more than that though as I saw the tension in Marcone's eyes slip for a moment as the subject of children hit him right where I wanted to, then the tiger's soul was back.

"Ah, so dear Maggie has been placed in danger?" he asked. I stood instantly as he said it, a knee jerk reaction, but the man was a criminal and hearing him talk about my daughter so casually was too much. And I wanted to crush him in general. I couldn't believe that I was still so calm. This feeling had enveloped me since I had first gotten the message, written in blood, saying that my daughter was in danger. I had exhausted every spell I knew, tried everything Bob, my magical lexicon; could think of. My child was being kept in the dark from me and it should have enraged me but it didn't. Calm was enveloping me and it was dangerous, like a wool blanket all warm and fuzzy in the middle of an inferno.

"Who's he?" Thomas suddenly asked, saving me from having to find a way to steer the conversation in his direction. I needed answers about my daughter, I needed help finding her and I really wanted to know what the hell was up with Marcone letting his bodyguard ape disappear, leaving him exposed.

Marcone pointed at the teenager who stood and bowed slightly, then turned and looked down at me for a few minutes. I took a look myself and noticed he was about a head shorter than me. He wore glasses, but they were modern and stylish. He wore his black hair short, almost militaristic, which revealed a prominent scar in the shape of a lightning bolt. He held out his hand and I stared at it for a moment wondering if it was a trick before I realized he had nothing on me, then finally I shook it.

Hell's Bells, the subtle tingle I normally got from fellow practitioner was anything but subtle this time, it damned near electrocuted me. He smiled and stared me down. My eyesight grew fuzzy and a headache grew. I heard Thomas growl and then the fuzz and pain went away.

"What are you doing to him?" Thomas asked angrily.

"Oh, I deeply apologize, Mr. Dresden; that was just a bit of passive Legilimency, I forgot my glasses were channeling it. I'll remove the charm," he said, his accent shining through in spades. Thomas gave him a blank look, which probably mirrored own of my own.

"A spell used to see another's memories," Potter replied to our obvious ignorance.

"That breaks the Laws of Magic," I gasped out. He tilted his head as if searching an array of knowledge before answering.

"Ah, yes, the White Council. I assume you're a part of it, and you are of course referring to the Laws of Magic set down by the original Merlin to the wizards not of the Wand." He nodded to himself and I heard teeth grinding. The source was none other than, whoops, me.

"Well, I just happen to be from what you would call the Wand-world so… Legilimency as it's called is an accepted method of interrogation and intelligence gathering, if you'll excuse the pun (what pun?). Of course, it's not really acceptable to use it on the unsuspecting, but I have more than plenty reason to keep others from lying to me," he said, a small grimace flashed over his face, before the ready smile returned as if nothing was wrong.

I eyed him cautiously; he was different than the last Wand-wizard I had met, who had been timid and almost afraid to use his magic in the presence of a non-practitioner. He had rambled on and on about a Statute of Secrecy or some such idiocy.

"What about your Statute?" I asked warily. He gazed at me for a moment and I had to fight not to meet his gaze. No Soul Gaze for me, not with this guy. He smiled and merely shrugged. I was getting more and more confused. The only real impression I got from this man was dangerous, much like Kincaid was, but in a more mystical and worldly manner than Kincaid's aura. Where Kincaid was Otherworldly, this kid seemed to be born of the Earth's magic

"What the hell did you get yourself into Marcone?" I asked, never taking my eyes off of Potter. Potter turned to Marcone, and looked him in the eye. There was no spark of electricity that I usually felt when a Soul Gaze occurred, maybe that meant that the Wand-wizard was immune to that particular manifestation of magic. Or maybe they had already been there and done that. I shivered, I knew what was in Marcone's soul but I didn't want to know what was in Potter's soul that would allow Marcone to respect him.

"Actually, it wasn't I who arranged this meeting. It was Mr. Potter here who wished to see me. He was just getting to the point when you barged in here. I hope you can forgive me Mr. Potter, but please continue where you left off, it may be that the two problems are intertwined," Marcone said as he motioned to the seat across from him.

Harry sat and he looked at me. Annoyed, I just stared him down, keeping my eyes slightly off his, naturally. Every minute here was a minute wasted in finding my daughter. I would destroy the entire world if it meant I could get that which had been stolen. Plus I was meeting Susan in an hour and this was going too slow.

"Can we hurry it up here? I got a hot date in an hour," I cracked before Potter could open his mouth.

"Harry, be careful," I heard my brother muttered.

"What?" I asked at the same time as the kid. Great, now there was a damn echo in the room.

Ah, shit. This was going to get confusing.

"This town ain't big enough for the two of us," I grunted dramatically, "You are no longer Harry, you are now Harry Two." You should spell out numbers under a 100 normally.

"I am not going to be Harry Two, either you can be Harry Two or you can call me Potter," he said. I liked my idea better, but for the sake of expediency I nodded slightly and gestured at Marcone.

"As I was saying before, I am looking for a silver coin. It is about an inch in width and it has a Roman figure on one side. The other side, has a symbol that looks like this," he pulled out a drawing. "Do you recognize this?"

Marcone stared at it for a second, then a look of recognition. He turned the paper over and showed it to me.

Nicodemus.

Shit.