Grace Under Fury Read online

  Grace Under Fury

  Federal Bureau of Magic Cozy Mystery, Book 4

  Annabel Chase

  Red Palm Press LLC

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Also by Annabel Chase

  Chapter One

  “I’ll put up the invisibility shield,” Neville said. My assistant and I were making the most of a beautiful day by having me kill simulated demons in fresh air and sunshine. All part of my Federal Bureau of Magic training that I failed to get as an agent for the FBI.

  “An invisibility shield sounds very superhero-y,” I said.

  “Indeed.” Neville conjured a shield around the training area so that no humans could observe us, unless they possessed the Sight, of course.

  “What do I do first?” I asked.

  “We’ll run through three main exercises,” the wizard explained. “You defeat your adversary in each one.”

  “What if I don’t?” I asked.

  “These are only simulations,” Neville said. “I’ve designed them so that they can’t actually injure you, but try to forget that bit or the training won’t work.”

  “I’m not great at faking it,” I said, and was immediately grateful that no family members were within earshot. I could only imagine the comebacks to that statement.

  “Best of luck, Agent Fury,” Neville said. The wizard removed a pouch from his pocket and tossed sparkly dust in the air before seeking refuge behind a tree. “Adversary number one!”

  “Why are you hiding behind a tree if he’s only a fake?” I asked.

  The dust swirled in the air and formed a body with grayish skin, horns, and a forked tail.

  “He’s only a fake, but you’re not.”

  Neville was right to be concerned. As a fury, my powers were of the rare and impressive variety. In every generation, a fury was definitely not born. My wicked family thought they’d hit the supernatural jackpot with me. Their DNA hadn’t spit out a fury for centuries until I came along. What they didn’t anticipate was that I’d choose a righteous path and reject my true nature. When I was younger, they’d assumed it was a form of rebellion. Eventually, they came to realize that I was committed to planting myself firmly in the Garden of Good.

  Smoke poured out of the demon’s nostrils, snapping me back to attention. I concentrated on his appearance.

  Know with whom you’re having the pleasure. That’s what my former FBI partner Fergus used to say. It made sense as an FBM agent, too, albeit for different reasons.

  “Agent Fury!” Neville prompted.

  “I’m working on it!” Identification was the first step. “Ugly Guy!”

  “That’s a description, not an identification,” Neville called.

  “I know,” I said. “I’m just starting off with insults, the way a good agent should.”

  Neville grinned. “An excellent point, Most Talented One.”

  “Neville,” I warned.

  He lowered his head. “Apologies, Agent Fury,” he said.

  Ugly Guy decided not to wait for me to act. He charged me with his horns and I reached out to grab them.

  “Sorry, pal. My dance card is full.”

  I swung him around and was surprised to find I could lift him without straining a muscle. I knew I was strong, but this seemed a step up from my ‘normal’ ability. The demon went flying across the grass.

  “I give you a 9.3 for form,” I yelled.

  “Best to identify him in order to defeat him,” Neville sang out from behind the tree.

  Right. I racked my brain, cataloguing all his visible traits. I was sure I’d read about this demon in the notes Neville had forced upon me. I’d wanted to read about a drug bust in San Francisco that Fergus had been involved in, but Neville reminded me in his kindly way that my place was with the FBM now. I was still adjusting to that unexpected career trajectory.

  “Once you know his type, you can identify his weakness,” Neville called.

  “Okay, backseat wizard,” I said. “Stop trying to take the magic wheel.”

  The demon lumbered toward me and dropped his head, probably preparing to use those horns as a skewer. A bright red spot between the horns caught my eye.

  “It’s a Target demon,” I cried.

  “I don’t think that exists,” Neville said.

  I pointed excitedly at the demon’s head. “That’s what I call it because the spot on its head looks like the Target logo.”

  “The shop?” Neville asked.

  I somersaulted to the side to avoid the demon’s attack. “Yes,” I said, springing back to my feet. “The real name is a Jupiter demon.” It was named after the planet because of their matching red spots.

  “That is correct, Agent Fury,” Neville said—the most reserved cheerleader in history.

  I remembered from Neville’s notes that the demon’s heart is his weakness. When Jupiter came back into my orbit, I let him come within striking distance. Then I punched a hole straight through his chest and grasped his heart, squeezing it before I wrenched it from his body. The demon screamed and howled in protest before dissipating.

  “Nicely done, O’ Immortal One,” Neville said.

  I glared at him. “I told you not to call me that.”

  “And I told you not to eat cheddar popcorn at your desk because it leaves a trail of yellow powder, nevertheless you persist.”

  I eyed him. “Cheddar popcorn is amazing.”

  He ignored me. “Ready for the next one?”

  “I think you’re enjoying this more than I am.”

  He stepped out from behind the tree. “It isn’t every day I get to utilize my wizarding skills. Paul wasn’t keen on any kind of practice sessions. He was more of a desk jockey.” Paul Pidcock was my predecessor. His unexpected death by demon was the reason I was here now. I’d had no intention of ever returning to my hometown of Chipping Cheddar, but once the FBI discovered my special abilities, the decision was out of my hands.

  “So what level are we up to?” I asked. The training guidelines were designed like a video game, with different milestones to hit.

  “Midway through four,” Neville said. “You should be quite proud, Agent Fury. You’ve made excellent progress.”

  “Enough progress that I’ve earned an iced latte?” I was all about the carrot over the stick, something my family failed to understand about me.

  “I am peckish.” He glanced past the river. “Shall we check the portal first, while we’re out here?”

  “Good idea.”

  The dormant portal to Otherworld, the supernatural realm, is the main reason for an FBM outpost in Chipping Cheddar. It’s located in the hillside adjacent to Davenport Park, known locally as ‘the mound.’ Due to the portal’s mystical energy, the town serves as a magnet for supernaturals in the human world.

  Neville removed the invisibility shield and we crossed the park to the mound. The wizard stood sentry while I ducked inside and did a quick sweep of the area. Normal vibrations. Normal energy levels.

  “Nothing out of the ordinary,” I said, returning to his side.

  “I’ll write it in the daily report,” Neville said.

  As we left the mound, a familiar figure appeared on the horizon and my heart jumped. Chief Sawyer Fox sauntered toward us, his snug uniform outlini
ng every muscle on his fit body.

  Beside me, Neville squealed and pointed.

  “Don’t make a big deal,” I hissed. “We’re playing it cool.” As a human and the chief of police in Chipping Cheddar, he was the last person I could get involved with. There’d been a bump in the Road to Disinterest when a supernatural fog had settled over town and made us act out our impulses. Turned out my impulse was to smooch Chief Fox in the men’s bathroom at The Cheese Wheel, our local watering hole. The last time I’d seen him was after the fog had lifted. We’d stood in my future home—the barn that straddled the border of my parents’ respective properties—and he’d expressed an interest in dating, which I’d begrudgingly shot down. He didn’t know about the supernatural world and I had to keep it that way. My world was too dangerous for a human, even one as capable as Sawyer Fox.

  “Not the chief,” Neville said. “His little friend.”

  I looked at him askance. “You’re excited about a gun?”

  Only when Neville rushed forward did I see what the fuss was about. An adorable pug peeked out from behind the chief’s leg. I’d been too busy ogling the man to spot his furry companion.

  “New recruit for paw patrol?” I asked, once we were within conversational range.

  Chief Fox grinned and looked down at the pug. “This is Achilles.”

  “I wouldn’t recommend dipping him in any rivers,” I said. “His legs are too short.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it,” the chief said. “Though I am looking forward to teaching him commands. Heel is my particular favorite.”

  Neville doubled over with laughter. “Good one, Chief.”

  I looked blankly at my assistant. “So what? Princess Buttercup can do that.”

  Neville snorted. “Achilles, heel. Get it?”

  I rolled my eyes so hard that I was pretty sure I pulled it out of its socket. “Ancient Greek jokes? There’s a limited audience for you.” I crouched down to pet the friendly pug. He licked my hand like it was covered in steak juice.

  “Is this another one of your adoption efforts?” Neville asked. “I have to say, I think it’s a stellar idea.” Chief Fox had started patrolling with dogs from the local shelter in an effort to help them get adopted. Just one more reason to lust after him.

  “Actually, I’ve decided to adopt Achilles myself,” the chief said. “Now that I’m settled here, I figured it was time for a furry friend.”

  “You’ve already got Deputy Guthrie,” I said. Despite his red hair and fair complexion, Sean Guthrie was surprisingly hairy— a fact I’d inadvertently learned in high school when his butt cheeks were taped together by the wrestling team.

  Chief Fox chuckled. “Achilles is more my style.”

  I resumed a standing position. “You chose well. He’s a sweetheart.”

  “What do you say we get our dogs together one of these days for a play date?” he asked.

  “Princess Buttercup might mistake him for a snack.” My hellhound was a gentle giant but still a giant, although to humans like Chief Fox, she had the appearance of a Great Dane.

  “I was hoping you could show me a few pointers,” Chief Fox said. “You’ve managed to bend a big dog like yours to your will…You must know a few tricks.”

  I knew exactly what he was trying to do. It would be a way of spending time together without actually dating. Clever. I was sorely tempted to take him up on it.

  “I don’t think Agent Fury would be very good at that,” Neville interjected. He gave me a pointed look.

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Neville,” I said.

  “Well, if you change your mind, you know how to reach me.” His gaze lingered on me for another moment before he and Achilles continued their patrol.

  The moment he was out of earshot, I smacked Neville’s arm. “Don’t speak for me.”

  “I had to,” he said, rubbing his arm. “You wanted to say yes.”

  “Of course I did. Did you see that chin dimple?”

  Neville heaved a sigh. “Need I remind you…?”

  I held up a hand. “You needn’t.” I’d heard it enough from my family. A relationship with me would put the chief in danger and jeopardize the secrecy of our world. I knew Chief Fox well enough at this point to know he’d want to join the fight against demons, once he’d overcome his shock. He took the whole ‘serve and protect’ thing very seriously—a quality I liked about him, but also a quality that made a relationship with him impossible. A hapless carpenter like John Maclaren would’ve been fine. Easy to fool and easy to keep safe. Chief Fox was too sharp and—truth be told—I hated the idea of lying to him. Best to keep him at arm’s length.

  Neville looked at me with a sympathetic expression. “How about an extra large frappe? My treat.”

  My assistant knew how to cheer me up. “Whipped cream?”

  “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

  I wasn’t convinced that whipped cream would cure my Chief Fox blues, but it sure wouldn’t hurt to try.

  “Ta da!” Neville stood on the pavement outside Magic Beans, the brand new coffee shop in town. I’d ignored the grand opening earlier in the week and I wasn’t about to cave now.

  “No way,” I said. “There’s no reason to deviate from The Daily Grind.”

  “Trust me, Eden,” Neville said. “I know how much you love your coffee drinks. I promise you, this place doesn’t disappoint.”

  It wasn’t about fear of disappointment. It was about fear of revenge. The proprietor of Magic Beans was none other than Corinne LeRoux, the youngest member of the rival coven in Chipping Cheddar. My family would be apoplectic if they knew I’d spent Fury money in a LeRoux coffee shop. The witches were a tight-knit family and I had no doubt Corinne’s mother and grandmother were somehow involved in the business.

  The door opened as a customer exited and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee permeated the air. My mouth began to water.

  “Is it really better than The Daily Grind?” That was the only coffee shop in town that came anywhere close to the coffee in San Francisco.

  Neville leaned over and whispered, “I’ve been skipping the donuts and coffee at Holes this week just so I can order the triple mint latte at Magic Beans.”

  I felt myself relenting. The promise of amazing coffee beans was too enticing to turn down. “Okay, one drink, but never again.”

  I let him enter first and stuck close behind him to avoid being seen. Although none of my family members would be here, that wouldn’t stop the gossip train from running. Every supernatural in town was familiar with the rivalry between my family and Corinne’s.

  “Oh, wow,” I breathed. Magic Beans was much nicer than I anticipated. The interior was stylish and comfortable with upholstered chairs, coffee tables, and garden furniture in pops of color. The counter was in a long L-shape with stools at the short end. A variety of cheerful artwork adorned the butterscotch-colored walls. Although the artistic styles differed from one piece to the next, they somehow worked together as a collection.

  Corinne stood proudly behind the counter, overseeing a barista and a cashier. Her looks favored her elegant grandmother, Adele, who served with me on the supernatural council. Corinne’s brow lifted a fraction when she saw me approach.

  “Welcome to Magic Beans, Eden,” Corinne said. “I have to admit, I’m surprised you’d dare to enter.”

  I leaned forward and lowered my voice. “I’m confident you won’t hex my drink.”

  Corinne smiled. “I’m looking for repeat customers, so that wouldn’t exactly be in my best interest, no matter how much my mother would enjoy hearing about it later.” Her smile faded. “How do I know you’re not here to curse my business?”

  “I wouldn’t dream of ruining a perfectly good coffee bean,” I said. “It would be a crime against nature.”

  “How do you know mine’s any good if you haven’t tasted it yet?”

  “You can thank my assistant, Neville,” I said. “He insists your coffee is on par with the best
he’s ever tasted.”

  Neville stepped up to the counter beside me. “It’s true. I mean, I have a soft spot for Holes and it’s conveniently located next to our office, but I would go out of my way for yours.”

  Corinne beamed. “What a great compliment. I’ll take it.” She called over her shoulder. “These two are on the house.”

  Neville’s giddiness was palpable. You’d think she just offered to join his Dungeons & Dragons team.

  The barista made coffee drinks with the level of skill Neville used in crafting magical gadgets. I admired my frappe for a full minute before daring to take a sip.

  “The verdict?” Neville prompted.

  “Liquid heaven.”

  The shop was so crowded that there were no available tables. It seemed incredible that in a town as small as Chipping Cheddar, I could be in a shop and recognize only a few faces. Then again, I hadn’t lived here for years. As much as things seemed the same, they most certainly had changed. Bright hair dye appeared to be in fashion. There were multiple tables with turquoise, fire engine red, and shocking purple heads. Hair dye would have been a welcome form of rebellion in my house. It was my refusal to engage in evil tactics that made me the black—or white—sheep of the family.

  “Shall I work a little magic to get a table to open up?” Neville whispered.

  “That’s okay,” I said. “I’ll take mine to go. I should head home and shower anyway.” Training made me sweaty and gross.

  We turned and headed toward the door.

  “Well, well, well. If it isn’t the prodigal daughter returned home.” Tanner Hughes, my high school boyfriend, intercepted us on our way out. His handsome, chiseled features failed to make up for his repulsive personality, a fact I wished I’d learned before I’d chosen him to be my first.

  I sucked down more of my frappe. “Stop pretending you know what prodigal means.”