Unstoppable Liv Beaufont Boxed Set

by Sarah Noffke

  Clark held the door open and directed Liv into the hallway. She halted, though. Firstly, because she sensed something at her back, something she could have sworn she saw dart into the entryway. Second, because she saw no reason she should enter the rooming corridor. Liv backed up, giving Clark a skeptical glare.

  “I don’t trust Adler or any notion he has about my magic,” Liv began. “If there’s something going on, I want you to tell me. We need to be straight with each other from the beginning.”

  Clark sighed, continuing to hold the heavy door open. “It’s nothing to worry about. And Adler is… Well, he means well. He just comes across as abrasive.”

  Liv shook her head, looking back briefly at the mirrored door. “As I said, I don’t trust him, and you shouldn’t either.”

  “Don’t be so paranoid,” Clark complained.

  “Be straight with me from the beginning,” Liv repeated. “What’s going on with my magic?”

  Clark motioned for Liv to step across the threshold. When she didn’t, he rolled his eyes but seemed to relax slightly. “Fine. Your magic meter is a little high.”

  “High? Like from me having had my magic locked?” Liv asked.

  Clark shook his head. “For any magician of your caliber. It’s higher than any of the other Warriors’.”

  “Well, that must be a mistake,” Liv stated, looking down at Plato for an answer.

  The cat didn’t appear concerned. He sat back and licked his rear end.

  Clark agreed with a nod. “Like I said, it will normalize in a day or so. Probably just a spike.”

  “What about that white tiger? What was up with that?”

  Clark gave her a tentative look and shook his head. “It’s nothing. He just helps maintain the balance.”

  “Balance? Like between what and what?” Liv asked.

  “I’ll explain in time. Now, go ahead and get in here.” He motioned to the open door.

  “Why, do you want to show me your new knife collection or something?” Liv asked.

  Clark grunted in frustration. “No, I’m showing you to your room. Our suite moved after… Well, you know…”

  Liv stepped back into the hallway. She didn’t care if the suite wasn’t the one she had shared with her parents, she wasn’t going there. “I’m not staying here at the House of Seven.”

  “This is where you belong now,” Clark argued.

  “Why, because I’m a Warrior?”

  Clark took his hands off the door, and it rammed into his shoulder. “Because you’re a Beaufont. This is where you’ve always belonged.”

  “I haven’t belonged here in a long time. I’ll do as the Seven command me. I’ll fight for their supposed justice, but I refuse to stay here.”

  “What, are you going back to that shitty studio apartment?”

  Liv’s temper flared, and for a moment her vision was blanketed in red. She thought it was a trick of her eyes, but when she told herself to calm down, her head felt as though it released steam and suddenly her vision cleared. This magic business was going to take some getting used to.

  “I happen to like my apartment,” Liv snapped, inhaling a measured breath and clenching her fists in an attempt to quell the fire burning deep within her.

  “But your family is here, and now that you’ve returned…”

  “Look, I can’t stay at the House of Seven,” Liv explained, trying to inject sympathy into her voice. “I’m back, but I’m not entirely back. I need to do things my way.”

  Clark hesitated before nodding. “Yeah, I should have expected as much. I was just hoping…” His voice trailed away as his eyes found Liv’s clenched fists. “What about your training? How are you going to handle that? Do you want my help?”

  Councilors had their own training. There wasn’t much crossover between that and what Warriors were taught. Clark was trying to help. He kept trying to help, and Liv felt heartless because she just couldn’t accept his assistance, as much as she might want to. She shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll figure something out.”

  “Are you sure you’re not being stubborn just for stubborn’s sake?” Clark asked, crossing his arms on his chest.

  “Look, we see things differently,” Liv stated. “That’s allowed. I’m going to do what the Seven tell me to, but I don’t have to stay here, and I don’t have to accept their training.”

  “But I don’t see what’s wrong with it, Liv.”

  She thought for a moment. “You remember when we were little and I always used to sink your battleships?”

  Clark’s head twitched. He had obviously not been expecting the sudden strange question. “Yeah?”

  “Why was that?” Liv asked.

  Clark looked away before returning his gaze to her. “Because I always put them in the same location.”

  “Yes, exactly,” Liv said victoriously. “The House has been doing everything the same way for a long time. They always put their battleships in the same place. I’m not a traditional kind of gal, though, and I think that to be a successful Warrior, I can’t accept their same old ways of doing things.”

  “But magic’s foundation is grounded in the traditions,” Clark argued.

  Liv gave him a consoling look as she backed away. “That’s what they want you to believe.”

  Clark nearly rolled his eyes but stopped himself. “You don’t have to be so paranoid about everything.”

  “And you don’t have to accept everything they say without questioning it,” Liv countered. “Being skeptical isn’t against the law.”

  “Yes, but the more resistance you put up, the more others won’t like you,” Clark stated.

  Liv nodded proudly. “I’m not here to make friends, Bro. I’m here to protect magic.”

  He smiled. Maybe it was the use of her old nickname for him, or that they’d easily fallen back into their usual roles—Liv the troublemaker and Clark the people-pleaser. Their parents had always said they were good for each other, but Liv knew that they never suspected the two would be Councilor and Warrior one day. There was no way their parents could have foreseen it because it would have meant so much death would have to have come first.

  With a suddenly heavy heart, Liv offered Clark a sincere smile and turned to the entryway. Before she had gotten more than a few paces, she heard Clark retreat and the large door fall shut.

  She took her time walking down the long corridor, watching the symbols dance as her fingertips grazed the wall. When she was almost to the entry, she halted, Plato beside her.

  Without turning around, Liv turned her chin until it was even with her shoulder. “I know you’re there,” she said to the seemingly empty hallway. “Why don’t you come out already and we get this over with.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The firelight in the long corridor dimmed for a moment as if the torches were holding their breath, waiting in anticipation. Liv remained frozen, her back still to the hallway, her eyes looking over her shoulder. She heard a small shuffling noise in the distance, then it sounded only feet from her, and in an instant, it was far away again.

  Liv looked down at Plato. “How long have you known she was there?”

  The cat turned around, sat down, and regarded the empty hallway. “Since the moment you entered the House of Seven.”

  “The little sneak has been watching me that long?” Liv asked. “I thought I spied someone.”

  Copying Plato, Liv spun, her arms crossed on her chest and eyes scanning the empty hall.

  “Maybe try a different approach, since ‘let’s get this over with’ didn’t work,” Plato offered.

  The flames flared slightly as Liv’s annoyance built. “Okay, how about this?” she said in a whisper to Plato before spinning back around and striding for the exit again. “Oh, well. Too bad you won’t show your face. See you later, you little sneak.”

  A blast of icy wind hit Liv in the face, whipping through her clothes and making it hard to progress. She stopped, threw her hand in front of her, and clos
ed her fingers into a fist, sucking the air away all at once. Turning back to Plato, she gave him a curious expression.

  He looked impressed. “Was harnessing that wind intended?”

  She opened her hand, half-expecting the gale-force wind to whip her in the face again. When it didn’t, she shrugged. “That was pure improv. I don’t know where that came from.”

  “Magic is mostly instinct,” Plato reasoned, returning his focus to the long, empty corridor. “But it appears that your little friend has her own tricks.”

  Liv corralled her tangled hair, getting her fingers stuck in several knots. “Okay, cute little display with the wind,” she said in a loud voice. “You don’t want me to leave, but you aren’t willing to come out. You realize that’s sort of annoying, right?”

  Plato gave her a contemptuous look. “Try a little tact. It could go a long way.”

  Liv sighed. “Hey there, little buddy. Would you please come out and play?”

  A red ball materialized in the middle of the gold hallway, contrasting brilliantly with the blue and green floor.

  Liv’s brow furrowed, and she stepped up next to Plato. “What am I supposed to do with that?”

  “It’s a ball,” Plato said dryly. “Play with it.”

  Liv thought for a moment. “How?”

  Plato’s tamed expression flared into one of pure annoyance. “I don’t know. Go kick it or something.”

  Liv laughed. “You don’t know how to play either.” She strolled forward and picked up the plastic, red ball. “For all your wisdom, dear Plato, you’re as clueless as I am when it comes to having fun.”

  “I’m simply out of practice,” he stated, his green eyes on a shadow that had just materialized. “Years of hanging out with you has done that to me.”

  “Well, no one is forcing you to keep me company,” Liv teased. Not once had she ever worried that Plato would leave her side. He was the constant in her life. Always there when she woke up and always curled up next to her at the end of the day. She might not always know where he was, but she always knew he was close by.

  Liv tossed the ball into the air, bouncing it on her fingertips. “You know what my least favorite game was as a kid?”

  Plato yawned, lifting his paw to lick it. “The quiet game.”

  She shot him a cold stare. “No, I’m great at that game. It was Clark who always spoiled things when we tried to sneak down to the kitchen for a midnight treat.” Liv bounced the ball on the floor. “Keep away was the worst game. Ian and Reece used to make us play, and I never won.”

  “Height-disadvantaged,” Plato said simply.

  Liv squatted to the ground and rolled the red ball forward. “All I ever wanted was a good game of back and forth.”

  The shadow shifted rapidly, and suddenly a little girl materialized on the other side of the ball, catching it. Her blonde ringlets framed her heart-shaped face and the Beaufont blue eyes. Liv didn’t have to guess how old she was. Sophia had been three years old when Liv left the House of Seven, making her eight now.

  “Me too,” the little magician said, taking the ball in her small hands and holding it close to her chest.

  Liv nodded, trying to pretend that this whole situation wasn’t highly bizarre. In her world, children didn’t hide as shadows or send a blast of wind at people they didn’t want to leave. She reminded herself that this was her world now, with all its absurdities. Furthermore, this had always been her world, even if the last five years had changed everything for her.

  Liv curled her fingers forward. “Go ahead then, toss me the ball. That’s how back and forth works, right?”

  Sophia nodded and threw the ball, launching it in Liv’s direction with a force to impress. Liv’s fingers burned from the impact when she caught it.

  “So you’re Sophia?” Liv asked, gently tossing the ball back to her sister. The little girl looked how she remembered, but also quite different with her full features and the baby fat having melted away.

  “Do you remember me?” Sophia asked, catching the red ball.

  “Of course I do,” Liv said with a laugh. “Do you remember me?”

  The little girl shook her head.

  “You were young,” Liv murmured, and remorse instantly crawled into her stomach. Sophia probably wouldn’t remember their parents. What a blessing and a curse.

  “You left,” Sophia said simply, her small voice carrying a great weight to it.

  “I know,” Liv replied. “I just couldn’t be here. It’s hard to explain.”

  “But you’re back?”

  Liv tossed the ball to her sister again. “Sort of. I’ve taken the Warrior role, just until you’re old enough.”

  “That’s a long time,” Sophia said, catching the ball and setting it by her feet. She wore a blue dress that hung to the floor and was tied in the back with a white satin bow. She looked like a little doll with her soft cheeks and button nose.

  “Tell me about it,” Liv agreed, taking several steps closer. She knelt, looking up at the young girl. “Are you okay, Sophia? Do you miss Ian and Reese?”

  She nodded, chewing her bottom lip. “Are you going to be my sister now that they are gone?”

  Liv thought for a moment. “I’ve always been your sister, even if I wasn’t here. But yes, I’ll come around and see you when I’m here. Maybe we can play ball, and you can teach me some games.”

  “Where are you going?” Sophia asked, pointing at the doorway down the hall.

  Liv turned around. Only then did she realize that the corridor looked much different to her sister. It would have appeared as Liv had always seen it, with pale walls and a short walkway. “I’m going home.”

  “Can I go with you?”

  Liv shook her head. “No, West Hollywood is for freaks and the lost and lonely. You belong here.”

  “But you told Clark that you didn’t belong here,” Sophia said, a stubbornness flaring on her face that took Liv back suddenly. She had a flash of her mother playfully challenging their father, as she did so often it became a nightly ritual.

  “I guess I’m one of the lost and lonely,” Liv stated, and added, “as well as a freak.”

  Sophia checked over her shoulder like she’d heard a noise. “Ian gave me something for you.”

  Liv felt herself tilt backward and nearly thought she’d tip over. “What? Why would he do that?”

  Sophia shrugged, reaching into the deep pocket on the front of her dress. “He said that if anything ever happened to him, I should give it to you but not tell anyone about it.”

  She withdrew her closed hand from her pocket, holding it expectantly in the air. Liv placed her palm under the young girl’s, and felt as something heavier than she expected dropped into her hand.

  “Sophia!” Clark called from the far end of the hallway.

  Liv’s head jerked up and she yanked her hand to her side, looking at Clark with sudden trepidation.

  His face softened when he recognized Sophia standing in front of Liv. “Oh, good, there you are. I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Clark said, striding toward them.

  Sophia pointed up at Liv. “I just wanted to say hi.”

  Clark nodded. “Yes, I can see that. It’s late though, Soph. You should get up to bed. You can have more visits later. Unless…” He gave Liv an expectant look, hope in his eyes.

  She shook her head at once. “I’ll just be off. I have a lot to do.”

  Liv waved at her younger sister, the mysterious object clutched in her other hand as she backed toward the door.

  Chapter Twelve

  The heat from the giant fireplace in Adler Sinclair’s private study was almost too much. He pulled off the silk scarf and his robes, shedding clothing until only his undershirt and loose pants remained. Usually, he wouldn’t have the fire burning so intensely, but his miniature dragon, Indikos, was molting and desired the extra warmth.

  Adler’s beloved creature lay on the hearth, his nose almost too close to the fire. His mouth gaped as he pant
ed, and his old reddish skin peeled away from his body, making way for the shimmering new scales.

  Decar eyed the process with mild interest as he fanned himself with a thick piece of parchment. “Really, we could have met in my quarters.”

  Adler shook his head, striding for the large desk beside the fireplace where the animal, who was about the size of a small dog, lay looking helpless. “No, I like to be with Indikos when he’s renewing. The last time I wasn’t, his old skin caught fire. It was such a waste. It’s a very valuable potions ingredient.”

  Decar regarded the dragon, noticing how close it was to the fire and easily seeing how the skin could find its way into the flames.

  “Besides, I have too much work to do to be anywhere else,” Adler went on.

  “I thought you said that things should slow down now that the Beaufonts’ position is filled,” Decar stated.

  Adler nodded. “Things will settle down, but there’s still much to oversee. This new Warrior…she’s a bit of a challenge. I need to make arrangements for her.”

  Decar stood, pacing away from the leather sofa and farther from the fireplace. He opened the window on the far side of the room and stuck his head out for a moment. When he returned, his white hair was out of place, and his pale skin was red from the winter night. “Her magic? Do you think it was a surge?”

  Adler nodded, looking down at the various papers strewn across his desk. He pushed them aside and picked up a tablet. Swiping through various screens, he came to the one on which he’d recorded Olivia Beaufont’s magical statistics. Usually these things remained in the Chamber of the Tree, but Adler had found reason after reason to transfer the information to his personal devices, and now no one seemed to notice when he did.

  “It can only be explained as a buildup of magic,” Adler stated. “I have every reason to believe that it will normalize in a day or two.”

  “Was it wise to allow her to leave the House untrained with that level of magic flowing through her?” Decar asked, his head half out the window again.