The Triumphant Daughter

by Sarah Noffke

  The Triumphant Daughter

  Unstoppable Liv Beaufont™ Book 4

  Sarah Noffke

  Michael Anderle

  The Triumphant Daughter (this book) is a work of fiction.

  All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.

  Copyright © 2019 Sarah Noffke & Michael Anderle

  Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing

  A Michael Anderle Production

  LMBPN Publishing supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.

  The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact support@lmbpn.com. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  LMBPN Publishing

  PMB 196, 2540 South Maryland Pkwy

  Las Vegas, NV 89109

  First US Edition, March 2019

  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

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Sarah’s Author Notes

  Michael’s Author Notes

  Acknowledgments

  Books By Sarah Noffke

  YA Dystopian Fantasy

  Books By Michael Anderle

  Connect with The Authors

  The Triumphant Daughter Team

  Thanks to the JIT Readers

  Jeff Goode

  Crystal Wren

  Misty Roa

  James Caplan

  John Ashmore

  Larry Omans

  Peter Manis

  Kelly O’Donnell

  Jeff Eaton

  Micky Cocker

  Angel LaVey

  If I’ve missed anyone, please let me know!

  Editor

  The Skyhunter Editing Team

  For Kathy.

  Thank you for giving me my first fantasy book.

  Since then, the world has been a better place.

  Chapter One

  The thick potion trickled from the corners of Wayne Grimson’s lips as he gulped, holding the bottle with both hands. His arms were shaking.

  “That’s it,” Adler Sinclair encouraged. “Just a bit more.”

  The lawyer did as he was told, drinking until the potion was nearly gone, only a small remnant clinging to the inside of the bottle.

  His eyes were red and overflowing with tears when he lowered the bottle to his polished desk.

  “Now remember, you aren’t to ever disclose who you work for,” Adler began, speaking the enchantment as he’d done so many other times to the lawyer. The potion wore off every few weeks, but it was worth redosing him. Wayne Grimson had proven to be reliable, doing Adler’s bidding and keeping attention off him.

  “The threat of torture and death will not break my bonds,” Wayne said in a robotic voice. “No matter what, I will not speak.”

  Adler nodded. “And you can’t be controlled by any other. No one but me can force anything upon you.”

  Wayne wiped the sides of his mouth, straightening and starting to look more like his old self, although that part of him had probably been lost for a long time. He wouldn’t truly remember who he was ever again. That was the price of the molding potion, and to Adler Sinclair, it was absolutely worth it.

  Mortals were expendable. Some didn’t see it that way, but they also didn’t understand the full scope of things—that if it weren’t for him and his ancestors and what they’d done, magic would have been lost long ago.

  “I answer to only you,” Wayne said, blinking and looking around the office like he’d suddenly remembered where he was.

  Adler ran his finger over the blade of the sword sitting across the front of the desk, marveling at its craftsmanship—the one that Wayne had recovered. Adler may have had no tolerance for the savage giants, but he could appreciate the work they did. For a long time, he’d tried to obtain a giant-forged sword but had failed. There were just not that many in the world, and the ones that were, the giants protected on the scarce bit of land where they’d been “assigned” to live. But a personal weapon didn’t matter as much as having secured the one before him. This one held memories and things that no others should know about. That was why it had been locked up in the National History Museum for the better part of a century.

  Until Liv Beaufont ruined everything.

  Adler reminded himself that she was just a dumb girl. At first, he’d worried that she had unprecedented powers or was going to be a problem like her parents and siblings had been. Her power level was higher than most…well, anyone’s, but he was sure it would normalize in time. He’d concluded she just kept showing up in the wrong places at the wrong times. Dumb luck. The demon-hunting case was perfect for her. It would either take her out or humble her—he didn’t care which one.

  “I want you to continue to have your people keep an eye on Ms. Beaufont,” Adler ordered Wayne.

  The lawyer nodded mechanically.

  Adler had thought that forcing Liv to move into the House of Seven was the best way to keep tabs on her. However, he needed the sword back, and the leverage he had on her was enough to get her to release it. After deliberation, he realized that the inexperienced warrior would be more trouble for him living at the House. It was better if she simply risked her life slaying demons daily and stayed out of the House as much as possible.

  Running his hands over the giant’s sword again, Adler muttered a series of incantations, glamouring the object so that it appeared to be an oversized poster in a cardboard, circular case. It was still heavy as hell when he picked it up, carrying it over his shoulder. He’d thought that hiding the weapon in plain sight was the best way to keep it away from the giants, who would feel the history pulsing within it and remember the past. He wouldn’t be making that mistake again. Turbinger would disappear, never to be seen again. There were places that only he knew about where things could be hidden, especially within the House of Seven.

  Adler had always been a fan of hiding things in plain sight because most didn’t even know where to look. Most were so inundated with the thoughts in their heads or their own selfish desires that they didn’t see what was right in front of them. And even if they did, the enchantments in the House were strong enough to make them forget. That was why no one remembered the Black Void between the Chamber of the Tree and the residential corridor in the House of Seven. Even if anyone saw it, they wouldn’t know how to enter, and better yet, they’d be terrified to do so.

  The sword would go in there and be safe for the res
t of time. Adler was looking forward to reassuring the God Magician that things were back on track. First, though, he’d have to wake him. That filled him with both anticipation and trepidation. Things were always unpredictable when the God Magician stirred, his power being both great and diabolical. Adler couldn’t control everything when the God Magician was awake. He’d been working on that, though. He believed in maintaining the balance. That was why he’d risked everything to keep what his ancestors had started a secret, and he believed that this responsibility extended to all areas of the House of Seven.

  Yes, he’d wake the God Magician on schedule. Thankfully, it would take the deity some time to recover, giving Adler a chance to avoid the complications that had happened last time, creating suspicion.

  He let out a reassuring breath and reminded himself that things were different now. The House was different. He had selected the Councilors and warriors who made it up, lemmings and simple soldiers who did as they were told, not seeing that which he wanted to keep hidden.

  Chapter Two

  The snow crunched under Liv Beaufont’s boot, and it sank in several inches. She took another step, feeling like the blanket of seemingly endless snow might blind her soon.

  Stefan had told her to stay put, hiding behind the embankment until she heard his signal. Glancing down at Plato, Liv grimaced.

  “Why Wyoming and other horribly freezing places? Why can’t demons hide in Cabo San Lucas next to a pool with a cabana?” she mused, pulling her fur-lined cape around her tighter as she shivered.

  Plato, who didn’t seem the least bit bothered by the freezing temperature, gave her a sympathetic look. “I thought this was an improvement over northern Alaska.”

  “It’s not,” Liv replied. “Damn it, no more demon hunting in icy climates. If they want to prowl Earth, then they need to choose places more like hell. Wait, is that why they go to icy places? Is this the real hell?”

  “I think they come for the mortals rather than the temperatures,” Plato explained, sniffing the air.

  “Are people in colder climates easier to corrupt, do you think?” Liv asked.

  “I think it depends on the demon, which depends on who they were when they were alive,” Plato related. “Some want to corrupt the innocent, spreading evil. Some like to perpetuate that which is already corrupt.”

  “How do you know this? Never mind. You’re not going to tell me, and I’d rather you keep your air of mystery.”

  Plato’s ears perked up slightly. “I might in this instance have been willing to tell you how I know that information.”

  “Oh, really?” Liv inquired, holding Bellator, her sword, firmly in both hands.

  “No, not really,” Plato replied slyly.

  Liv pursed her lips. “You’re such a tease.”

  “Speaking of teases.” Plato lifted his chin, directing his gaze over his shoulder. “It looks like the bait worked.”

  Liv smiled with delight. “Which means it’s go time.” Even though she could hear the noises Plato was referring to, she waited for the signal. Timing was everything, as Stefan and she had discussed, reviewing the strategy time and time again.

  The mehhhing of the scared goat would have made Liv’s heart constrict with guilt, but she reminded herself that it wasn’t a real goat. It was merely an apparition that Stefan had created as bait.

  The goat jumped over Liv’s and Plato’s heads. They were tucked up against the embankment, which dropped off several feet. The goat didn’t stop after landing awkwardly in the snow, just kept scurrying down the steep hillside, its hooves sliding as it cried out in wild desperation.

  A low whistle pierced the air, making Liv tense. That was it—the signal. She readied Bellator, noticing that Plato had disappeared.

  The first demon soared over her head, clawing through the air, legs pedaling like he was riding an invisible bike. He landed with a crunch in the untouched snow, his hands down and his focus on the goat, which was quickly getting away. The beast, an exceptionally ugly creature with red scales over its head and neck and a forked tongue, growled.

  “Hey, Baldy, why don’t you pick on someone your own size?” Liv called to the monster, getting his attention at once.

  He spun to her, a vicious snarl ripping from his mouth. The demon was taller and broader than her, and fast. However, she was prepared, swinging Bellator at him as he sprang in her direction. The blade cut across his chest, spraying black blood over the white snow.

  “Oh, hell, I was going to make a snowman out of that snow,” Liv grumbled as the beast grabbed his chest, writhing in pain from being marked with Bellator. “You ruined everything with your blood. Oh, and also by being a nasty demon.”

  Liv was just about to swing Bellator again and finish the monster off when another demon soared overhead, landing close to the first. This new one spun, catching sight of Liv immediately. So, apparently the goat race was over, she thought, her eyes darting between the two.

  The unharmed second demon lunged at Liv, screeching horribly. She thrust her foot at him, trying to push him back. Instead, he grabbed her foot, twisting it to the right and forcing Liv off her feet. Her face met the snow, which pierced her skin with cold.

  Before the beast could jump on her back, Liv rolled to the side, then popped to her feet. She’d dropped the sword during the fall, and it was now partially covered in snow.

  Liv lifted her hand and directed it at the uninjured demon, hitting him in the chest with a gale-force wind. He flew back several yards, giving her a moment to scramble for Bellator and recover it. The injured demon lumbered in her direction, but she wasn’t worried about him. He was on the decline, albeit slowly. The second one would be easy enough to take down once she finished off the first. Bellator made demon hunting a breeze since the blade was lethal to the demons. She started regretting the bout of confidence when a third demon launched himself over the embankment, landing with a thud that shook the ground under her feet.

  This one was massive.

  “Well, looks like the party officially started,” Liv said, backing up as the meaty beast squared his shoulders and regarded her with the deep-seated hatred demons felt for all humans.

  “Thing is, I didn’t bring party favors for you all, so someone is going to get their feelings hurt.”

  The three demons had her cornered and moved in slowly with their shoulders down and teeth bared. The smell was overwhelming. Liv sucked in a breath through her mouth and remembered her training.

  We are one, she thought, gripping Bellator tightly, and something shifted in her. She wasn’t a Warrior holding a sword. She was the sword, and the sword was her. They were one, moving together like the way a rush of droplets of water barrels over a waterfall. Separate and yet together. Soft and unyielding.

  As the demons broke formation, Liv brought Bellator around and overhead, not even knowing what she was going to do. The blade ripped across two of the demons, knocking them back. She hiked up her leg, back-kicking the first demon and sending him into a pile of freshly-packed snow.

  The other two were already on their feet, although they weren’t quiet about their injuries. Bellator’s mark would eventually kill them, but for now, it only slowed them down. As they barreled in her direction, Liv held Bellator above her head and threw it like a spear at the smaller of the two demons, impaling his chest. He stumbled back, clutching the blade as unintelligible language spewed over his blackened lips.

  Weaponless, and with the larger demon lumbering in her direction, Liv waited until he was almost upon her. Then she moved the way Akio had taught her—with blinding momentum, blurring as she sprinted across the snow, away from the beast’s clutches. She knew that the trick would draw down her magical reserves, but it would be worth it if things went according to plan. Fighting three at the same time was not the plan, but then nothing ever went to plan when it came to battling demons.

  The beast realized too late that Liv had swerved around him and nearly slammed into the side of the embankment. Had
he done so, it would have saved her the trouble, but she didn’t mind. Holding up her hand, she muttered a single incantation. The ground rumbled under their feet, and the mountain of snow crumbled over the cliff’s edge, burying the demon.

  Liv backed up, trying to stay out of the mini-avalanche she’d caused. For some reason, this reminded her of her parents’ death. She hadn’t been there when they supposedly fell from the Matterhorn, but she had dreamed about it often, seeing her parents battling snowstorms and trying to help each other survive until something took them both down to the bottom—a fall neither survived.

  The snarling of the beasts behind her brought her back to the present moment. The sight of the demon clawing at Bellator, which was protruding from its chest, was creepy and strange. Liv shook her head, realizing it was time to end this.

  She strode over to the deadly demon she’d once have feared. However, she had found that there were worse things than evil dressed as a monster. No, worse was disguised evil. Buried secrets. A mystery linked to forgotten history. At least with a demon, she knew what she was getting every time, and she felt no remorse for ridding the Earth of them. If anything, she felt like she was saving a lost soul. And in truth, that was exactly what a demon hunter did. They did it the right way when they could.