The Loyal Friend (Unstoppable Liv Beaufont Book 5)

by Sarah Noffke

  The council was on call to activate her magic when she called later that day. She’d hoped this would be a fast investigation, but in truth, she had no idea what she was walking into as she set foot in Lupei.

  One thing was clear: there was no Starbucks in this town. Actually, as Liv trotted down the dirt road she guessed was the main thoroughfare, she felt as though she’d stepped back in time.

  As soon as she’d entered the village, the colors of her clothes seemed to wash away, making her blend with the muted tones of the buildings.

  Down the road, children played, kicking a can and brandishing sticks as if at swordplay. However, they didn’t make the same noises as cheerful children. Instead, they sounded serious, calling to each other in flat tones.

  Knowing that she couldn’t wear her cape and hide the cane under it, Liv had decided to use it, hobbling through the town with a fake limp. She figured that this would make her even more approachable, since people wouldn’t be threatened by her. But she might also appear to be easy prey for werewolves, which was why she needed to be out of the town before nightfall. That shouldn’t be a problem if she worked fast.

  The sound of a vehicle caught Liv’s attention and she spun around to see a tour bus barreling down the road behind her, kicking up dust. Swerving off the road, Liv watched as it passed, stopping in front of a row of buildings.

  From a distance, she noticed as people with backpacks and plush jackets disembarked, talking excitedly as they gazed around the lackluster town. Tourists, Liv thought. Apparently, one of Lupei’s draws for outsiders was the various caves that bordered the area. It was also a hub between some exceptional hiking tours. However, Liv suspected that the pack of werewolves had invented these attractions to draw in outsiders. There were roughly a dozen potential dinners for the pack striding into the inn at the end of the road.

  Liv covered her face against the dust the bus kicked up as it headed back out of town. That was the only time it came through the village each day, and it wouldn’t be returning until the next day. One way in, and one way out. The werewolves had set things up nicely for themselves in this remote village, off the beaten path and isolated from anything else as best it could be.

  Liv waved at a woman rocking on the porch of the general store. She looked like a pioneer with her long dress and shawl covering her gray hair. The old woman didn’t return Liv’s forced smile.

  “Hello,” Liv began, blinking, feeling like she was in a black and white movie the farther she got into the town. It was mostly a lot of gray, as if color were banned there.

  The woman lifted her chin in response to the greeting.

  “Do you speak English?” Liv asked the woman, her eyes skirting to the shop’s windows. The drapes had been peeled back for a moment, but when she looked closer, whoever was peering through them had disappeared.

  The woman continued to rock, her withered hands gripping the side of the chair with a strange intensity. She looked at Liv, not saying a word.

  “She doesn’t speak,” a man said from behind Liv. She hadn’t heard him approach, and nearly jumped when she found him so close. He was wearing a thick leather jacket, and his face was covered in a heavy beard that obscured his mouth.

  Liv took a step away from the man, who was probably her age but appeared much older due to the facial hair. “Oh, then I’m sorry for bothering her.”

  The man studied Liv with a curious glare, his eyes landing on the cane in her hand. “Claudia hasn’t said a word in over two decades,” he continued, his sharp eyes shifting to the old woman. “But yes, we all speak English here. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be a very welcoming place for tourists, now, would it?”

  Liv nodded, studying the man. His jeans had several patches, as if they’d been ripped and repaired multiple times. Maybe he was a werewolf who had broken free of his human clothes at night, or maybe he was only thrifty.

  Extending a hand, Liv said, “Hi, I’m Sally. Pleased to meet you.”

  He eyed her hand but didn’t take it. Instead, he motioned to the cane. “You’re not with the hiking group, are you?”

  Liv’s gaze fell to the cane in her hand. “To be honest, I’m not. I’m a painter. I was supposed to make this trip with my boyfriend. He’s the hiker and explorer. I prefer to sit on the hillside and paint landscapes.”

  “Where is he?” the man asked, a strange calculating look in his gray eyes.

  Liv dropped her chin slightly. “He couldn’t make it. Too busy snogging the neighbor girl.”

  The man held up a hand—which was covered in red scratches all over, most of them appearing to be fresh. “I don’t need the details of your personal life.”

  Liv sighed, having rehearsed this story several times and wishing she could tell more of it. What was the point in crafting a role if she couldn’t perform? “Well, that’s good, because I’m tired of talking about it,” she finally said.

  The man’s eyes shifted to the general store. Liv followed his gaze to find the indistinct figure peering through the drapes again.

  “I’m Fane,” the man said, pulling her attention back in his direction. “Do you have a place to stay for the night?”

  Liv shrugged. “I don’t. I was planning on staying at the inn.”

  Actually, she was planning on getting the hell out of there by dusk, but she couldn’t say that. Whoever was in the village of Lupei right then was supposedly staying for the night, but Liv planned to portal home.

  She imagined that he frowned, but it was hard to tell with his thick beard. “The inn will be all booked up for the night.”

  “Oh,” Liv said, taking a deep breath. “Well, maybe I’ll camp. I suppose the general store will have provisions.”

  Fane shook his head. “I wouldn’t advise it.”

  “I’m used to extreme conditions,” Liv argued. “The cold doesn’t bother me.”

  Fane checked over his shoulder like he’d heard something before turning his gaze back on her. “I still wouldn’t advise it.”

  “Well, still, I better load up on supplies,” she said, patting the bag she had slung over her shoulder.

  The man reached out faster than he should have been able to and gripped her arm, pinching it hard. Liv froze, feeling her pulse suddenly beating in her temples.

  “Don’t go in there right now,” he warned.

  “Oh, are they closed?” Liv asked.

  He shook his head. “It just isn’t a good time.”

  “Okay,” Liv said, drawing out the word. “I guess I’ll see about getting a room at the inn. Maybe they’ll have some available last minute.”

  “They won’t,” Fane stated as she hobbled off a few paces.

  Liv turned back, offering a cheerful smile. “Worth a try, though. Thanks for your help.”

  She’d made it down the road a few yards when Fane materialized beside her again, moving with a swiftness she’d come to associate with Stefan.

  “Where’d you come from?” he asked.

  “Well, I started in—”

  “No, I mean just now,” Fane interrupted. “I saw you come down that hill.” He pointed to where’d she’d portaled. From the village, it was hard to make out anything that far away, but if he’d seen her hike down the hill, he had better vision than he should.

  “I caught a ride with a farmer,” Liv lied. “I forgot his name, but he could only take me so far. I’ve been hoofing it the rest of the way.”

  “Palin dropped you off,” Fane stated rather than asked. “He often brings tourists as close to Lupei as he can, then leaves them just outside our borders.”

  Liv chewed on her lip, not sure if she should agree or stay silent.

  The children playing in the road glanced up from their rudimentary game as they approached, and their faces broke into smiles at the sight of Fane. “Papa!” a girl with dark brown hair and a face full of freckles cheered, running to him and jumping up. He grabbed her, hugging the child to him as she wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist.r />
  “You’re back!” the girl sang, kissing both his cheeks.

  He patted her back and whispered something into her ear.

  Liv pretended not to notice, but she caught a distinct look of apprehension in their eyes.

  “We’ll leave you here,” Fane said, nodding in the direction of the inn. “They won’t have anything for you at the inn, but if you need a place to stay, I have a room.”

  Liv forced a smile. “Thanks. That’s really nice of you, but—”

  “I’m not trying to be nice,” Fane said, interrupting. He pointed to a house at the end of a lane that looked like all the other houses. “I live there. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s better than the inn.” His gray eyes drifted to the inn, and he shook his head as if trying to dispel a bad feeling. “Don’t drink the mead at the inn, Sally. Actually, don’t drink or eat anything there.”

  Liv didn’t know what to say, especially when the little girl he was holding locked her large eyes on her and mouthed the word, “Don’t.”

  “Okay, thanks,” Liv said, limping in the direction of the inn with the distinct impression that Fane had found out more about her in the few minutes she’d spent with him than she was comfortable with. It was in the way he glared at her, as if he were seeing into her mind and studying parts of her soul.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The inn was bustling with activity when Liv pushed the heavy door open. The tourists stood out in the place in their bright, puffy coats. They clinked glasses by the fire or at tables in the corner, talking excitedly about the adventures to come.

  Liv squeezed through the cramped lobby, making her way over to the front desk, where a woman was busy studying a log book. She had long, gray hair that hung in locks around her wrinkled face. Her hands were bent awkwardly at the knuckle, and much like Fane, her hands had long red scratches that appeared fresh. Her clothes were threadbare and had several patches.

  When Liv sidled up to the desk, she expected the woman to look up, offering her attention. She didn’t.

  Liv cleared her throat. The woman didn’t seem to notice.

  There was a bell on the counter between them, and Liv considered ringing it to get her attention. Instead, she said, “Excuse me?”

  “We’re full,” the woman said simply, her voice deep and her eyes still scanning the log book.

  When Liv peered over the counter, she noticed that the open page of the book was empty. The woman didn’t seem to care, though, her attention solely on it. Liv got the distinct impression that she was listening rather than reading invisible ink on the page. Her ears were large and poked out from her hair.

  “I was hoping that—”

  The woman’s chin jerked up and her gray eyes roamed over Liv, making her suddenly feel invaded. “I said that we’re full.”

  “Right…” Liv said. “Is there a list where I can put my name in case of an opening?”

  The woman’s nostrils flared, and something dark shifted across her eyes before she glared down at the book again.

  “Looking for a place to sleep, are you?” a voice with a thick accent said in her ear.

  Liv tensed, feeling the man at her back. He was close—really close. Pressed up against her suddenly. When his breath stirred her hair, he smelled of alcohol and butterscotch, which was a strange combination.

  Simultaneously stepping away and turning around, Liv took in the bulky man who had appeared beside her. He wasn’t as tall as Rory, but his chest was double the giant’s circumference. In comparison, the man had a narrow waist, and like the other locals, he was wearing patched clothing. His hands were covered in fingerless gloves, but she guessed that they were covered in scratches too, which would match the ones on his cheeks. Like Fane, his face was partially obscured by a heavy beard, but his eyes were different. Darker, and something sinister brooded in the background.

  The man’s gaze dropped to the cane in Liv’s hand and he took a step back, narrowing his gaze. As if he’d gotten something in his eyes, he blinked rapidly, jerking his head to the side.

  “We’re all full,” the woman said at once like someone had asked her a question.

  The man nodded, a growl spilling over his lips. “I see that. Yes, we’re all full here at the inn.”

  “That’s okay,” Liv said, trying to sound light, although her heart was suddenly racing. She couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was in her head, or at least trying to get in there. Or watching her from every angle in the lobby. She looked around, pretending to appreciate the modest furnishings. The chairs were faded and looked full of dust. The paintings on the wall were coated in a fine layer of soot from the fireplace, and the walls were… Liv averted her gaze, suddenly seeing the lobby clearly. There were scratch marks all over the wood-paneled walls.

  “What’s your name, sweetheart?” the man asked, his eyes fixed on the cane she held.

  “Sally,” she answered at once, not offering him her hand. Her instinct told her to back away from him as quickly as she could to get space between them. Get the hell out of there.

  Laughter from the tourists stationed closest to them cut through her, gaining Liv’s attention.

  “Why don’t you join me for a drink, Sally?” the man asked. “Then maybe we can find you a room, if Vera is okay with that.”

  The old woman looked up from her log, her eyes shifting between the various groups before landing on Liv. “If she doesn’t have any baggage, she can stay, Sorin.”

  “I figured as much,” the man growled.

  Liv indicated her modest bag. “I’ve only got this.”

  “Come on, sweetheart,” Sorin said, ambling through the crowd. He slid gracefully between the groups, despite his large size.

  Liv followed, certain that she’d just found the pack leader. He was strong, and had that alpha appearance. The other locals looked up at him as they passed with an air of respect.

  Sorin halted at the archway to the tavern attached to the inn. It smelled of ash and boiled meat, which was not an inviting combination. When she entered the area, six bearded men glanced up at her from various places in the dark room. All of their eyes ran over her before darting to the cane in her hands. Liv did her best to lean on the weapon as she negotiated around the rickety tables, pretending to limp.

  She noticed then that most of the tables were like the locals’ clothes, mended in places as if they’d been broken many times.

  When Sorin passed the bar, he glanced at the waitress behind it, a woman with dark hair and a sour expression on her face. “Get us a round, Carla,” he ordered.

  She put down the beer mug she was wiping and went to work grabbing the drinks at once.

  “Sit,” Sorin ordered, pointing to a set of chairs that didn’t look strong enough to support Liv’s weight, let alone Sorin’s large build.

  Liv did as she was told and scanned the tavern, taking in the various faces still watching her. Six pack members, she thought, studying them. They all shared similar appearances, their faces covered in beards, and fresh scratches on their neck, cheeks, and hands. Their clothes were tattered, and consisted of muted shades compared to the tourists chatting with excitement around the room.

  Liv wasn’t sure if it was her imagination, but the various groups of tourists seemed to have gotten louder since she’d entered the inn. The locals, on the other hand, exchanged shifty glances, like their patience was growing less with each passing minute.

  Sorin snapped his thick fingers right in front of her face. “I’ll take your things and put them to the side for you.”

  Liv pinned the cane between her knees, pulled her bag over her head, and handed it to him with a meek smile. “Thanks. The hospitality here is really something.”

  “Don’t mention it,” Sorin said, tossing her bag in the corner, where she noticed there were other satchels, all with shiny tags, probably belonging to the tourists.

  When Sorin turned back to the table, he nodded to the corner behind their table. “Why don’t you lean your cane up
there so it’s out of your way?”

  “That’s okay,” Liv stated. “I like to have it close. I can’t get around all that well without it.”

  The man seemed to consider this for a moment. “Is that right?”

  Carla, the waitress, arrived at their table with a bottle of brown liquor and two dirty glasses. Her expression was not at all welcoming when their eyes met.

  “Hi,” Liv stated, noticing that she didn’t have scratches on her hands like the others. “How are you today?”

  Her eyes skirted to Sorin before she poured them both drinks. “I’m about the same as yesterday.”

  “Carla,” Sorin said, lifting his glass and sniffing it, “my new friend here, Sally, would like her cane out of her way so we can relax. Put it in the corner for her, would you?”

  The woman reached for the cane, but Liv knocked her hand away faster than she had intended and bolted up.

  Sorin and Carla glared at her with disdain. The six locals around the bar did the same, a strange heat in their eyes.

  “Oh, thanks,” Liv said to cover her sudden action. “I’d be glad to have you take it. But first, I need to go to the little girl’s room. Can you point me in that direction?”

  “It’s in the lobby,” Carla said, indicating with her head.

  Liv nodded, giving Sorin a meek smile. “I’ll be right back. Long trip and small bladder make for a bad combination.”

  His eyes lingered too long on her face before he took a sip and his head turned in the direction of the front desk, which was twenty feet away on the other side of the loud tavern. “Come right back when you’re done. I think a room just opened up.”

  “Oh, that’s great,” Liv stated, backing away, her heel nearly catching on the uneven floorboards. She recovered before losing her footing.

  As she made her way back to the lobby, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was the only sober outsider in the place. The tourists were loud with excitement, throwing back drink after drink. And the locals continued to eye them, possibly wondering if they’d be better with a side of mashed potatoes or port wine.