Fury Godmother
Federal Bureau of Magic Cozy Mystery, Book 2
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
Also by Annabel Chase
Chapter One
“What do you think?” My mother stood in the center of the barn, watching John Maclaren, the carpenter, as he took measurements and made notes.
John cast a glance over his shoulder at her. “Everything looks to be in great shape from where I’m standing,” he replied.
“Why, thank you,” my mother said, smoothing her hair.
I rolled my eyes. “He means the barn, Mom.”
John tucked his phone back in his pocket. “Shouldn’t be too hard to transform into a living space for this young lady.”
“Oh no, the barn is for my daughter,” my mother said. “I live in the main house.” She paused. “All alone.”
I gave her a sharp look. “All alone with about a hundred other people?”
My mother waved a dismissive hand. “That’s all temporary. You’ll be moving out here and Anton and his family will be moving into their house as soon as the remodeling is finished.”
“What about Grandma and Aunt Thora?”
“Well, they’re old,” my mother said. She flashed a flirtatious smile at John. “Like I said, temporary.”
John only looked to be in his mid-thirties. I couldn’t imagine he’d be interested in my mother. Then again, I couldn’t imagine any man being interested in my mother. It was a wonder she and my father managed to get married and produce two children. I still suspected she used her magic on him somehow. Not that my father was a prize. Being married to a vengeance demon can’t be easy. One critical comment about leaving up the toilet seat and you might find yourself bald by morning.
“I’ll have an estimate for you by the end of the week,” John said.
“That’s wonderful, thank you,” my mother said. “How long do you think a job like this will take?”
John tugged his ear, thinking. “We’ve got good weather these days and I’ve got room in my schedule, so not too long.” He patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Fury, I’d be out of your hair in no time.”
My mother frowned. “In that case, maybe we should hold off until winter, Eden. It’s nice having you in the house.”
“I’m in the attic on a mattress,” I replied. “I don’t even have a bed.”
“Beds are overrated,” my mother said. “Wouldn’t you agree, John?”
Sweet Hecate, this was embarrassing. To his credit, John seemed oblivious. Or maybe willfully oblivious.
“If I’m going to have construction equipment back here, you might want to consider dealing with that old well,” John said. “It isn’t safe.”
“What old well?” my mother asked.
“I noticed it on my way to the barn,” John said. “I can recommend a water well contractor.”
“I’m happy to consider all your recommendations,” my mother said. “Keep ‘em coming.”
Ugh.
“Great. I’ll be in touch,” John said, and left the barn.
My mother waved after him. “Please do.”
I waited until the carpenter was out of earshot to reprimand my mother. “Do you have to flirt with every male within arm’s reach? For all you know, he’s married.”
“No ring,” my mother said.
“He’s a carpenter,” I pointed out. “He works with his hands.”
My mother smiled dreamily. “Good Goddess, I hope so.”
Double ugh. “I’m going to work.”
“Why don’t you stay and have breakfast with us first? Aunt Thora is making slow-cooked oatmeal.”
“I’m not hungry.” That was a lie, of course. I was always hungry, but I had my eye on a scone at The Daily Grind, the best coffee shop in Chipping Cheddar.
“Tell your father I’ll let him know what his half will cost for the barn when I get the estimate,” she said.
“You can’t just text him a screenshot of the estimate?” My parents divorced when I was ten, but they still avoided each other for the most part, despite living five hundred yards away. As part of the divorce settlement, they’d agreed to divide the old Wentworth dairy farm in half and my father built a new house on his plot, where he now lived with his second wife.
My mother pulled a face. “If I must.”
“I’m happy to contribute to the cost,” I said. “I have some money saved.” Not much considering the high cost of living in San Francisco, but now that I was back in Maryland, everything was much more manageable. The cost of living was one of the few perks of being back in my hometown. I’d had no intention of ever returning to Chipping Cheddar, but an incident at work triggered my magic and I nearly killed my partner as a result. When the FBI discovered that I was better suited to the clandestine Federal Bureau of Magic, they sent me packing to the one place I didn’t want to go—home.
“Don’t be silly, Eden,” she said. “You’re down on your luck. The last thing your father and I intend to do is kick you when you’re down.”
“I’m not down on my luck,” I insisted. My mother refused to accept that I wasn’t fired from my job with the FBI.
“You lost your job. No boyfriend. Living with your mother at twenty-six years old.” She clucked her tongue. “If that isn’t down on your luck, then I don’t know what is.”
“Thanks for the pep talk, Mom. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get ready for work.”
“Yes, I suppose you should. We wouldn’t want to risk you getting fired again. ”
I stifled a groan and headed back across the grounds to the farmhouse.
Chaos reigned in the kitchen as everyone seemed to be trying to prepare for the day at the same time. Verity, my sister-in-law, was attempting to feed one child while another child clung to her leg.
Olivia, my five-year-old niece, was the one attached to the leg. She looked up at me when I entered. “You look creepy.”
I shot a quizzical glance at Verity. “I look creepy?”
The druid shrugged. “Consider it a compliment. She’s a big fan of creepy.”
Ryan smiled at me and milk poured out of his mouth. Even the toddler seemed determined to be part of the mayhem.
“Ryan,” Verity scolded. She glanced around the kitchen helplessly. “Where is your father?”
My brother Anton appeared in the doorway as if summoned. “You rang, my love?” He wore a T-shirt that read something wicked this way comes.
“You’re wearing that to work?” my mother queried, also zeroing in on his choice of clothing.
Anton grinned. “What? It’s ironic. They don’t know.”
What ‘they’ don’t know at the office is that my brother is a vengeance demon, like our dad. Unlike our dad, however, Anton chose to work a normal job in the human world in the creative department for a small advertising agency. He recently admitted to me that he took small jobs in Otherworld to pay for projects like the home remodel, but he wasn’t as keen on exacting vengeance for clients as our dad. It seemed that Verity was having a positive influence on my brother, at least as far as I was concerned.
“I’m heading out,” I yelled over the din. “Everybody have a great day.”
I hurried out of the house before an
yone could force-feed me Aunt Thora’s oatmeal. I needed room for that scone.
I left Munster Close and drove to the downtown area that overlooked the Chesapeake Bay. Even as someone who didn’t want to live here, I recognized the charms of my hometown. The colorful and well-kept buildings around Pimento Plaza. The town had been settled by English Puritans searching for a better life in America. Formerly the home of many dairy farms turned cheesemakers, the human residents had no idea that the town is also situated on top of a dormant portal to Otherworld, the supernatural realm where members of my family are originally from. Even though the portal in this town is dormant, the mystical energy generated by the portal draws supernaturals to this area. My job at the FBM involves apprehending any supernaturals wreaking havoc in my jurisdiction and returning them to Otherworld where they belong. Supernaturals have long been permitted to live among the humans, as long as they don’t flaunt their powers or upset the natural order of human life. Thanks to their penchant for wickedness, my own family teetered on the edge of what was acceptable. I hoped for my sake they continued to toe the line. The last thing I wanted was to be responsible for exiling one of them to Otherworld.
I found an ideal parking spot right out front of the coffee shop—a lucky break. While the town didn’t get truly hectic until summertime when tourists seemed to outnumber residents, you still needed good parking karma to avoid a long walk on a busy weekday morning.
I pushed open the door and the aroma of fresh-brewed coffee filled my nostrils. As far as I’m concerned, The Daily Grind is the only place for coffee in town. After experiencing three years of excellent coffee in San Francisco, I couldn’t subject myself to the sludge that passed for coffee in most places here. I’d only been back a few weeks, but I’d spent enough time here that the staff already knew me.
“Good morning, Eden,” a voice chirped.
“Good morning, Caitlin,” I said. The pretty barista was working her own brand of magic with the espresso machine.
“Your drink will be right up.”
“Thanks.”
I turned away and a familiar figure caught my eye at a table in the back of the shop. Calybute Danforth owned the local newspaper, The Buttermilk Bugle, where my friend Clara Riley was now a fledgling reporter. My high school nemesis, Sassy Persimmons, worked there, too, selling ad space, which is how she and Clara became friends, much to my chagrin.
“Hey, Cal,” I said.
Cal glanced up from the paper on the table and smiled. “Eden Fury. Clara told me you were back in town.” Cal’s family had a long history in Chipping Cheddar. The Danforths were one of the founding families, along with the Davenports and Wentworths, to name a few.
“It was unexpected, but it’s nice to be back among friends.” I didn’t mention family. The jury was still out on that one.
“Here’s your vanilla latte, Eden,” Caitlin said.
“Ooh, and a scone, too, please,” I said. I returned to the counter to pay.
“Sure.” Caitlin popped one of the scrumptious scones on a plate.
I swiped my card and then carried both items to join Cal at the small round table.
“I told Clara we should interview you about your involvement in catching Chief O’Neill’s killer,” Cal said. He was a slight, balding man with glasses and a pleasant smile. By all accounts, he was a decent boss—reasonable and kind.
“I thought Gasper covered the chief’s death,” I said. Gasper Cawdrey graduated from high school a few years ahead of me, although I didn’t really know him.
“Of course,” Cal said. “He’s the senior reporter, but I promised Clara I’d try to assign her more than local sports. I’d like to make good on that promise.”
“Well, it’s hardly newsworthy that a federal agent apprehended a criminal,” I said. “It’s to be expected.” As far as the human residents knew, I was an FBI agent in the cyber crime division and spent most of my time in an office catching online fraudsters and child pornographers.
“It’s completely newsworthy,” Cal insisted. “Chief O’Neill was immensely popular. People will want that closure.”
“I don’t think the Bureau will allow it,” I said. “Classified information and all that.” Especially when the killer was a fear demon that got sent back to Otherworld.
Cal smoothed the paper on the table. “Must’ve been exciting for you. I guess it’s not typical that you get to see action in the field when you’re stuck behind a computer all day.”
I blew the heat off my latte before venturing a sip. “I wasn’t in the cyber crime division in San Francisco.” I didn’t care to elaborate, especially given the rumors that were already circulating about me.
“What made you decide to switch?” he asked. “Maybe thinking about getting married and settling down? Cyber crime is probably more conducive to family life.”
As much as I disliked the implication that women needed to sideline themselves for the sake of a family, I understood that Cal came from a more traditional background. If he knew the truth about my job and my family, I doubt he’d know how to handle it. To be fair, most humans wouldn’t, which is one of the reasons supernaturals remain hidden—some of us in plain sight.
A sudden burst of noise drew my attention to the front door. A young, slender redhead strode into the shop wearing dark sunglasses and a haughty expression.
“It’s Mitsy Malone,” a woman at the next table said.
I shot a quizzical look at Cal. “Who’s Mitsy Malone?”
Even Cal appeared starstruck. “You don’t know her? She’s famous.”
I wasn’t someone who followed celebrities on social media. “What’s she famous for?” And why was she in The Daily Grind in Chipping Cheddar?
Cal stared blankly in Mitsy’s direction. “I have no idea, but aren’t we lucky to have seen her?”
“Um, sure.” I glanced over at Mitsy. The redhead was now encircled by a small group of customers, all clamoring for her attention. It seemed odd that a person as plugged in as Cal wouldn’t know why Mitsy was famous. Maybe she was like a Kardashian. I’d have to ask Clara—or better yet—my sixteen-year-old cousin Meg. Mitsy looked about the same age as Meg, so my cousin was likely to have heard of her.
“I should have Gasper or Clara interview her,” Cal said.
“Yeah, have her get to the bottom of why Mitsy’s famous,” I joked. “Anyway, it was nice catching up, but I need to get to the office.”
“Nice to see you, too, Mitsy,” he said, almost in a daze.
“Eden,” I corrected him.
He didn’t spare me a glance. “Yes, that’s what I said.”
I tossed my handbag over my shoulder and threaded my way through Mitsy’s bevy of admirers. In the corner by the window, I recognized one of the local werewolves nursing a cup of coffee. Our eyes met and he lifted his brow as if to say what the hell? He seemed equally baffled by the attention Mitsy was receiving. I shrugged and pushed open to the door. It was time to get to work.
Chapter Two
I stood in front of the door to my office, unable to get inside. My assistant Neville Wyman had been trying to beef up security ever since the fear demon that killed Chief O’Neill gained access to our office and removed a vital piece of evidence that would’ve led to his capture more quickly.
I pounded my fists on the door. “Neville, let me in!” The office was located on Asiago Street between a donut shop and a tattoo parlor. The location wasn’t necessarily unsafe, but it wasn’t somewhere I cared to linger on the sidewalk.
The door finally swung open and Neville stood in the doorway, red-faced. “Apologies. I must’ve overdone the ward.” Neville was a talented wizard, but sometimes his enthusiasm got the better of him.
“You think?” I blew past him and tossed my handbag onto my desk. “So what’s on the agenda today? Any demons to send packing to Otherworld?”
“Not today, o’ kindly one.” He cleared his throat. “I mean, Agent Fury.”
“Eden,” I reminded him
. If Neville and I were going to work closely together, a first name basis seemed appropriate. Fergus never called me Agent Fury. Sometimes he called me Garden Of and thought that was hilarious. He was such a nice guy that I always laughed politely.
“Holes is running a BOGO special today if you’re interested,” Neville said.
“Buy one get one free on donuts?” I queried. “That sounds dangerous.”
Neville smiled. “It’s good to be naughty on occasion.”
“If your idea of naughty is two donuts instead of one, you go right ahead.” I was accustomed to my family’s idea of naughty, which usually meant a flagrant display of dark magic or vengeance.
“What’s it like?” Neville asked.
I pulled a bottle of water out of my handbag and set it on the table. “What’s what like?”
“Being a part of a family like yours,” Neville said.
I turned to face him. “What do you mean?”
“Your father…He’s a…”
“A vengeance demon. You can say it, Neville. I’m well aware.”
“And your mother…”
“Likes her black magic as much as she likes Chanel No. 5 and kitten heels.”
“And yet you became a federal agent,” Neville said. “Fascinating.”
“From the time I was old enough to express an opinion, my family said that I was drawn to the light. I shied away from hurting anyone and didn’t want to use my magic.” I laughed. “They tried their best to encourage me the other way, especially when they realized I was a fury.”
“Furies do have the potential for tremendous power,” Neville said. “I’ve taken the liberty of doing more research…”
I held up a hand. “Thanks, but I don’t need tremendous power, Neville. I’m happy the way I am.” I spun in a circle in my chair, eager to lighten the discussion. I didn’t like to talk about my family or my abilities. “So what did you and Paul do when there wasn’t a supernatural criminal to hunt down?”
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