Prologue

The Epilogue from Book 1

A week later, Dixon was shuffling through applications in his office. Benedict had a phone conference booked with his lawyer, who was apparently in England, so had stayed home to take that call and await their new door delivery. Dixon had been pleased he'd managed to get one custom-made, complete with cushioned padding. He knew Benedict had been joking about it, but he was planning on seeing how effective it was at protecting his mate's shoulders when he got home.

"Mr. Cottle. Can I have a moment?"

"Patricia, yes. Come in. Sit down." Glad at the reprieve, Dixon smiled at his PA. "I wanted to let you know how much I appreciate you holding this place together while I was going through my family business. I know things have been difficult…"

"I can't believe Jackie ran off with Paul." Patricia shook her head reprovingly as she sat down. "Mind you, that woman was always a bit strange. But anyway, I wanted to ask you about a work-related matter. Are you still seeking applications for the manager and head draftsperson positions?"

Dixon waved at the pile on his desk. "I've had inquiries from people all over the country, but honestly, it's like no one can read a job posting properly anymore. I explicitly said I wanted my drafts person to have project experience and my manager to have experience in all aspects of running an architectural firm. I don't have the time to give someone the job training they need, and while I know you'd help with office matters, in the draft's office – they need someone experienced in there." He sighed. "I don't suppose you know of anybody, do you? You know what we need here."

"Well, I do know of a couple of people who are interested in relocating, but…"

"No buts, Patricia. Who?" Dixon felt a flare of hope. "Honestly, you have no idea. My partner, Benedict… I can't say much, because it's a personal situation, but it looks like he may have to go back to England shortly. I dearly want to accompany him. But I can't leave my office without these positions covered. Are the people experienced?"

"They've just sold their own very successful architectural firm in New York." Patricia's cheeks were bright pink. "It's not as big as this place, but the two men, they're brothers, they want to relocate to San Francisco. I… er… you should know, I am dating one of the brothers. That's why they want to come here. But I did mention I could put in a good word for them, when they saw the advertisements, but I didn't want you to think I was trying to influence your decision in any way because of my own position here."

The dating app paid off? "They're keen on the jobs? Both positions?"

Patricia nodded. "They said it was like kismet or something when they saw the advertisements."

"Kismet." Dixon nodded. "It is indeed." He glanced up as he heard someone by the door. It was Benedict and his face was white. "B? What's wrong?"

"I didn't mean to interrupt you. Sorry, Patricia." Benedict came in warily, holding a stiff looking envelope. "I've been summoned. I have to make an appearance in England in three days."

Dixon looked back at Patricia. "Is your gentleman friend and his brother in town now? Could they come in for an interview this afternoon?"

Patricia nodded. "I'm sure they'd be glad to. I can go and call them right now."

"Tell them two o'clock. Let's hope they want to start work right away."

Dixon waited until Patricia had left the office, closing the door behind her, before he made his way to sit by his mate, who'd taken a seat on the couch. "How bad is it?" he asked, keeping his voice low.

"Someone reported that the dead were disturbed at the golf course the other night. It's been implied I was trying to raise a dead army." Benedict swallowed hard, and Dixon saw tears in his eyes.

"They can't charge you with that. Surely that can't be a crime. It wasn't even you." Dixon pulled his mate close, tucking him under his arm.

"They're not charging me with that. They know it wasn't me directly, but rather my magic being used by someone else. My stance on raising the dead, and how I abhor it, is on record."

"Then why do they need to see you at all?" Dixon was confused. From the way Benedict had first spoken of his father's second and very cryptic message, Dixon knew they'd probably have to go to England, but Benedict had always assumed he was going to face false accusations.

"The Magical Council has decided that since they never knew who killed my family all those years ago, that the spirits of my parents should be summoned so they can explain what happened that night."

Benedict's voice was bleak and Dixon hated that some faceless mob was putting his mate through so much grief. "No disrespect, but surely there are other Necromancers in England who could speak to your family. They don't need you there for that."

"My parents won't talk to anyone else. The Magical Council has already tried. That's why my dad came to me the other night, to tell me about Christine. They'd already been trying, but even in spirit, my parents don't have to speak to anyone if they don't want to.

"So they said no, and now… now the council has been reminded of how strong my magic is because of what happened with the changeling, so they want me there. I have to appear. That's what my father's warning was all about. The Magical Council is implying that the reason my parents won't speak is because they already know I was responsible for their deaths. They think my parents are protecting me."

"But it wasn't you! What are they going to do if you don't appear when they tell you to?"

"If I don't appear willingly, I'll be arrested for the murder of my family. Then I'll have no choice but to appear before them." Benedict's breath shuddered. "Perhaps you should stay here while I go…"

"Not on your fucking life." Dixon held his mate tight. "We're Fated Mates. Under paranormal law, they can't separate us. So if they arrest you, then they have to arrest me, too. And you'd better believe, if they do that, I'll raise hell to get you out."