by Ann Denton
Enchanted Execution
The Lyon Fox Mysteries - Book 2
Ann Denton
Le Rue Publishing
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
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
A Personal Note from Lyon Fox
The Lyon Fox Mysteries
About the Author
Copyright © 2018 Ann Denton
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the address below.
Le Rue Publishing
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Tulsa, OK 74103
www.LeRuePublishing.com
ISBN: 978-0-9985437-8-9
To S. for being a good sport.
And Cass for her birthday.
Chapter 1
Ever met a sadist? Like a true, honest-to-God torturer? Join the Tres Lunas Police and Investigation Academy, because apparently that’s where evil people work.
And apparently, I was stupid enough to sign up. Which is why I’m here, under the eye of a sadist, doing push-ups. At the freaking crack of sunset.
Yup. My hometown isn’t just a haven for magical creatures in So. Cal. It’s apparently a place for enchanted torment. Damn! That sounds like a dirty strip-club name. Enchanted Torment … better not tell Tabby that name. I can just see my friend, a tiny seventy-year-old crystal-ball wielding peeper, throwing her life savings into a club like that. Complete with male were-animal strippers … I imagine Tabby, my elderly neighbor Mrs. Snow, and their bunco group howling and dancing near the stage. I have to suck down a laugh.
Eff. My wandering brain has stopped my muscles. And the boss has noticed. Lyon Fox, get it together!
I glare at Diego Flores, the commander who is currently eying my stalled push-ups with a lip curled in disgust. Uncurl that lip, Mr. Flores. These biceps weren’t trained from the age of three to embrace pain like yours.
I hate Diego (whose nickname by the way, is ironically, Flowers) with a passion that rivals my hatred for all things spicy. I list spicy things as I shake through the last few push-ups of the night.
Cumin, better than Flowers.
Tabasco, nicer than Flowers.
Ghost peppers, as evil as Flowers.
I fall to the mat, not even caring that it’s been the site of many a sweaty man’s nethers during our wrestling matches. My blonde hair splays out and I close my baby blues, cursing myself for thinking that becoming an investigator was a good idea. It’s just five more months. Just five more months … I don’t think five months has felt this long since I was a kid. And it’s only five months of half nights. I spend five hours a night at the Academy and five more at the office training on paperwork. I’m a month in. Just five to go. Unfortunately, the workout is the first two hours every night at the Academy.
I open my eyes to peek at the clock on the wall of the gym. We haven’t hit the two-hour mark tonight. Gah!
Flowers—I seriously think he must have some demon blood in there somewhere, though officially he’s a tiger-shifter—leans over me and whispers, “One more, Fox.”
My arms tremble as I force my body into position. I hiss through my teeth. “I hate you.” But I do it.
“Way to push through,” he slaps me on the butt with a towel before moving off to torture someone else.
The room goes hazy for a second and I think I’ve died. If he’s killed me, I’m totally going ghost and haunting his toned abs. Literally. I think I’ll pop my head through his stomach and start talking at strategic moments. I smile as I picture ruining every date he’ll ever have.
Seena and Becca, two other Academy recruits, haul me up so we can go jump over some tires. You know, because I see the police doing that every day. Job essential. Obviously. I’ve tried to bring up my theory that if we want real-world skills we should practice napping in cars, but Flowers didn’t appreciate my insight.
Flowers lines us up so we’re three across and blows a whistle like it’s kindergarten gym time. “When the person in front of you is three tires ahead, you start. First row. Go!”
I’m toward the back, so I get a breather. Thank goodness.
Seena lines up next to me. He’s a Persian shifter. Haven’t asked him what kind yet. We’ve bonded over our hatred of the first two hours of the day. He’s in this thing because he’s some kind of genius analyst who wants a legal reason to hack computers and outsmart other nerds. And apparently he got bored over at LAPD because—and I quote— “Humans just don’t know how to be as devious. We’ve had centuries more practice.” He thinks working as an investigator in Tres Lunas will be more interesting than his last job. Only problem? Every investigator is required to go through the Academy.
“Damn initiation rituals,” Seena moans as he rubs his shoulder.
I envy his ability to curse the moment aloud. My fairy mother thought cursing was a nasty habit of mine when I was a teenager. So, what’d she do? Hired a witch to curse me with a cursing curse. Meaning I can’t curse aloud. Ever. I try to make up for it internally. But it’s not really the same. The best I can do is spit out some texty curses, or some lamebrain options like—
“It’s total horse puckey.” I nod fervently, agreeing with Seena.
Becca lines up on my other side and grins. She’s an effervescent and cheerful sprite, whom I befriended against all odds. Normally I don’t like girls as bubbly as soda pop. But there’s something about her that’s just so damn lovable. Maybe it’s the fact that she’s got one of those perfect heart faces with eternally pinchable cheeks.
“The fun team is ready to rock!” She crosses her eyes and does a devil sign with her hands.
Screech! Our turn.
Seena puffs as he runs the tires next to me. “Okay. You ready? Persian insult … of the day: zahré mar. It means … poison of the snake. Like bullshit—”
“How are those even … equivalent?” Becca asks, words punctuated by hard breathing. “I mean … bullshit stinks. Gross. But snake poison? Not … the same level. Death. Totally illogical.”
“They both suck … to step on?” Seena offers. “I don’t decide translations. I’m just here … to expand your vocab.”
“Well, that translation’s … zahré mar,” Becca retorts.
“Too busy dying … to learn! … Zahré mar!” I retort, as my legs catch on fire. Seena’s been on this kick to help me expand my cursing abilities. Apparently, my mom’s curse doesn’t pick up on Persian words.
“Good!” Seena pants. “Both proper uses.”
“Whoop!” Becca loses her balance and grabs my arm. I trip, tumbling face first into Seena. He falls forward into the cadet in front of him, and we create a domino effect, effectively felling those in front of us.
Screech!
Flowers blows on his whistle. As if that’ll do anything to stop the disaster.
&
nbsp; “Okay dimwits. Since tires are too complicated, let’s do laps.” His glare at our trio clearly spells out who’s responsible for the laps. Thanks man. As if this hazing thing wasn’t enough. Like tripping was Becca’s fault? She’s barely five feet! Those tires are almost as high as her knees.
We groan, detangle, and run laps. And laps. And laps.
Until we finally hit that blessed two-hour mark.
But we don’t get to collapse. Nope. Shower? Nope. We get to move on to practicing spells.
I groan.
I’m a mutt. My mom has some strange amalgamation of fairy blood—white, fall, flower… you name it, it’s in her gene pool. It’s been diluted over the centuries by other creatures and humans too. My dad? Full human. So, though I’m fairy enough to have been born with a blue jewel in my chin and black toenails, magic ain’t my game, yo. That’s my fairy gangster voice. It’s what I used to use whenever I was pretending to be standoffish when I’d visit my mother beyond the Veil. It totally worked. Made all the powerful fairies back right off. Yeah. I wish.
I do have two minuscule powers. The first is—you guessed it (because every magical creature’s got it)—quick healing. Maybe I’d feel better about this one if I was a were-animal and prone to fights for alpha status. Or if I was a troll who just liked to fight. But I’m basically a reading-and-junk-food-obsessed shut in. So that power’s never been all that good to me. (I’ve totally suppressed the memories of the time I was attacked by a crazy vampire and later accused of her murder. So not bringing it up.) My other lamebrain power is … wait for it. Losing things. Yup. That’s me. Need something lost? I can do it for you.
Flowers is under some delusion that I can learn to enhance my power. Ha. Yeah. I can see that being so useful as an investigator. Let me help you lose your keys. No keys? How about your kid?
I rub a tired hand over my face. I need to tamp it down. And focus. Or I’m not gonna make any ‘progress’ and I’ll be on Flower’s shit list. The bottom three recruits each night get tasked with some awful assignment. And he’s clearly gunning for my little trio since we caused the pileup tonight.
I line up near Becca and grab a couple of yoga blocks. I’m supposed to try to ‘lose them’ to a specific location.
I stare at my block. Concentrate. Visualize. Like all the self-help spell books say to do. “I’ve lost my yoga block in the men’s locker room.” The block disappears.
But does it go to the men’s locker room? Of course not. Instead, it reappears just above Flowers head.
Bonk.
My classmates all laugh. I can’t help it. I laugh. He didn’t even see it coming.
But I stop laughing when he marches right over to me.
“Fox!”
“Yessir.”
“I’m going to assume that was a mistake.”
“Yes, sir, it was.”
“Please demonstrate your spell.”
I try not to let my hands shake as Flowers glares at me. I don’t know where he learned to glare like that, but he’s got a good one. It’s got me ready to cry and run at the same time. Not to mention the fact that every eye in the gym is now about to watch me and my lame powers. I’d hoped to fly under the radar through the Academy. No such luck.
I grab a new block. I stare at it, willing it to behave.
“I’ve lost my yoga block in the men’s locker room.”
Bonk.
This time the block bonks Seena on the head.
“Hey!” Seena throws the block at me and misses.
Flowers lips don’t even twitch. I wonder if he’s secretly a cyborg.
“You’re not focusing.” He steps closer and shoves a new block into my arms.
Right now, all I can focus on is his steely-eyed glare. My BFF might think he was sexy. JR’s got a thing for strong Latino men. But Flowers is frickin’ intense. In a scary way.
I take a slow deep breath. Don’t tempt the monster.
“Stop trying to be a clown. Send that block somewhere serious.”
“Like your office? That’s about the most serious room in the building.” Dammit! That just slipped out.
A middle-school-like chorus of “Oooooooh,” sounds off around us.
A deep breath. That’s his only reaction. A deep breath. This guy’s got nerves of steel. I can’t help admire that a little. Until he leans in. Then I’m scared again.
“Fill my office with blocks, Fox. Until you do, you’ve earned a permanent spot on my list.”
Mother eff. Frickin’ idiot. I’m so stupid.
He saunters off, all cool confidence. I drop my block and ball my free hands into fists to keep myself from throwing the block at him.
Seena comes over and pats me on the head. “Don’t worry, Lyon. I’m sure it’ll only be the worst thing possible short of death.” His brown eyes glitter in amusement.
I smack him in the stomach.
Seena takes it like a computer nerd and crumples to the floor. I feel slightly better for being mean. Pecking order right? Until he winks up at me and hops to his feet. Dammit! Faker!
Becca bumps my shoulder from the other side. “Meow. Who’s that?” She not-so-subtly jerks her head toward the double doors of the gym.
“Frick. Frick. Frick.” I pull her in front of me.
“That’s the double ex,” Seena whispers across me as I try to use the two of them as a human shield.
“Is that a porn reference? God, I hope he’s on film naked somewhere,” Becca giggles.
I smack her arm. “No. That’s my ex.”
“What’s double ex mean then?”
Seena raises an eyebrow as Bennett walks our way. “It means Ly-Ly was stupid enough to break up with this guy twice.”
“No!” Becca turns to me. “Say it isn’t true?”
I duck further behind Seena, not giving up the ruse, though Bennett’s eyes are locked on mine.
Black hair, piercing green eyes, chiseled jaw. A dragon-shifter heartthrob. That I told I needed a break. Because… I stare at his eyes. He’s staring back so intensely that I have a hard time remembering why we’re on a break.
Becca smacks me. “You broke up with that?”
Her smack snaps me out of the spell his eyes have put on me.
“Yup.”
My eyes slip to Bennett’s pecs, outlined in detail by the wife-beater he’s wearing. He’s also got on official Tres Lunas Investigation sweats. He must be here for a workout. My mind slips back to the workouts he used to give me in the bedroom. And suddenly, I’m sweating for a reason that has nothing to do with my aching muscles.
“Are you crazy?” Becca stage whispers.
“Maybe,” I reply.
Bennett reaches us and gives respectful nods to Seena and Becca.
“Ms. Fox. Can I have a word?”
Shit. He’s sought me out and is being formal. This can’t be good.
Chapter 2
Bennett steers me over to a corner of the room. I clutch a yoga block as a shield. Dammit. I wish JR was here to run interference.
“It’s been a month,” Bennett says.
“Okay.”
“It’s been long enough to prove that you got this job without me.”
I close my eyes. He doesn’t get it. And that’s a problem. Has been a problem ever since I got promoted from paralegal to the District Attorney’s investigation team. Where Bennett is the head of Felony Investigations. My boss.
“I’m still in the Academy. Still training. And haven’t proven myself on a case yet.”
He carefully controls his response since curious eyes are darting our way. But that amazing jaw twitches. For a second, I imagine making it twitch under much more pleasant circumstances.
“You solved Georgina’s murder.”
I jerk my head toward the class behind me. “That’s not what they’ll think. Solving it because the murderer shows up at your apartment to kill you too? Yeah, great solve. I didn’t even leave his name on the voicemail to you before I got inside. Nobody will beli
eve that.”
His fists clench.
“Why do you care so much what other people think?”
“Why don’t you?”
“Because I just spent two damn years fighting for the right to be with you and I want to be with you.”
My knees tremble. I’m not sure if it’s from Bennett’s swoon-worthy statement or all the laps. But his words affect me. He went rogue for me. Rejected his dragon clan. I know he’s done a lot. I almost reach out to push his hair back, trace his jaw, stare into those emerald eyes. But I stop myself.
“Ben, I want their respect.”
“More than you want to be with me.”
“You don’t understand. You’re the boss. You have years of experience backing you up.”
He takes a step closer and growls next to my ear.
“I understand that you’re torturing me. Look at you in that tight white t-shirt that’s soaked through—”
“With sweat. Because I’m working.”
“It’s practically see through. And they’re all staring at you.”
I sigh. “Not a single cadet has hit on me. They’re only staring right now because they’re wondering why the idiot who got on Flower’s list is getting a talking to from the boss.”
“I can get you off that list.”
“Don’t you dare!” This time I growl. “No special treatment. We agreed.”
He lifts an eyebrow. “Maybe I’ll give you special treatment until you agree to go out with me. Then you won’t have any excuse not to.”
“You’d make my life a living H-E-double hockey sticks.”
