Unstoppable Liv Beaufont Boxed Set

by Sarah Noffke

  She pushed opened the door a crack, but the kittens pressed their heads against the door, pushing it open farther as they charged past her into the house.

  “Rory?” Liv called, peeking into the living room. It was quiet, and even stranger, it was sparkling clean. Literally. Sparkles radiated off the dining room table and floors like they’d been polished for hours. When she took a step into the house, her boot made a squeaky noise.

  “So this is squeaky-clean,” Liv muttered to herself.

  “And another thing,” Bermuda’s voice echoed from the kitchen. “Tomatoes go on the countertop, not in the refrigerator—not that you should be eating too much food from the nightshade family. You know it gives you gas.”

  “I know that, Mum,” Rory groaned from somewhere in the house.

  “And another thing—what are the kittens doing back in the house?!” Bermuda yelled.

  Liv’s eyes widened as the rest plowed through the open door. She bent over, grabbing up a handful of them, their little claws scratching her forearm as they tried to escape. She was about to put them out the door when thunderous footsteps advanced in her direction.

  Bermuda came around the corner of the dining room as Liv straightened, holding three kittens in her clutches, the rest having sought refuge under the sofa.

  “What have you done?” Bermuda yelled, her round face red with frustration. “I just cleaned this place, and those little mess-makers have already tracked dirt all over the house again.”

  Liv backed up to the floor mat in front of the door, holding the kittens tighter, sort of afraid for her life as she stared up at the red-faced giant.

  “And you!” Bermuda continued. “Were you raised in a barn? You’ve still got your boots on inside the house. Don’t you know any better, child?!”

  Liv tried to open the door with her elbows as she worked to take off one boot using her opposite heel. The visual had to be ridiculous, she thought, but the menacing look Bermuda was giving her couldn’t be ignored. Liv had faced demons and giant snakes and many other monsters, but none of them inspired the fear in her that Bermuda did.

  “I’m s-s-sorry,” Liv stuttered, one of the kittens sidling from her grasp and sprinting for the back bedroom.

  Bermuda simply stared at her, her lips forming a hard line.

  “I’ll clean it up,” Liv continued. When she got the door open, the other two kittens leaped from her arms, scrambling madly for the kitchen. Not deterred, Liv pulled off her boots, smiling broadly as she turned around to face the giant. Her eyes followed Bermuda’s, and she quickly realized the damage had already been done. A huge clump of dirt sat a few feet from the mat, looking like the biggest piece of debris in the world on the pristine floor.

  “What’s going on?” Rory asked, striding into the living room from the back. Junebug was on his shoulder. The kitten sprang free, dropping onto the couch, where he wrestled with pillows, making a mess of the furniture.

  Liv couldn’t stop the laugh that burst from her mouth at the sight of the giant. His usually chaotic curly hair was neatly parted down the middle and slicked back. Even stranger, he was wearing a starched white shirt buttoned all the way to his neck, and suspenders and khakis and loafers.

  He rolled his eyes and dropped his hands to his sides, exasperated. “Oh, no, you didn’t.”

  “She did,” Bermuda said, tapping her foot impatiently.

  “I’m sorry… I didn’t… I’ll clean up the mess I made,” Liv said, raising her hand.

  Bermuda shook her head. “Oh, no, you don’t. Your brand of magic will only make things look worse. Magicians are the worst with cleaning spells.”

  Liv’s eyes darted to Rory for help. He shook his head minutely.

  “Actually, I think that goblins are worst housekeepers,” Liv said. “They literally sweep everything under the rug with their magic, which ironically doesn’t work very well since they don’t have rugs, so all the dirt ends up piled up in the middle of the floors of their huts.”

  Rory sighed deeply.

  Bermuda nodded at her son. “I agree, your apprentice doesn’t know when to be quiet.”

  “Apprentice?” Liv questioned.

  “It’s a problem that magicians have,” Bermuda continued. “They like to hear themselves talk, although they should spend more time listening if they are ever going to be of any use to this planet.”

  The room fell silent, except for the sound of the kittens burrowing inside the sofa.

  “So those are some nice suspenders,” Liv teased Rory.

  “Don’t,” he snapped.

  “They are nice,” Bermuda said, glancing proudly at her son. “Doesn’t he look handsome?”

  “Ummm—”

  “Actually, don’t answer that. I don’t want to hear what you think of my son,” Bermuda cut her off, returning her attention to her son. “Maybe you should go and work on the chicken coop in the back, Ro.”

  “You’re getting chickens?” Liv asked. “Won’t the kittens be a problem for them?”

  “Not if they live outside in the front where cats belong,” Bermuda replied.

  Rory scratched his shoulders and fussed with his clothes.

  “Now, don’t do that. You’ll mess up your suspenders,” Bermuda scolded, circling her finger and drawing the kittens out of the sofa. Their claws tried to grip the floor as a magical force pulled them to the door.

  “I don’t like the suspenders,” Rory grumbled.

  “And yet, they keep your pants on your buttocks.” Bermuda forced the kittens out the door with a swipe of her finger, closing the door with a swoosh.

  “Buttocks,” Liv repeated with a giggle, earning a frown from Bermuda.

  “Is there a reason you’re here, magician?”

  Liv couldn’t help herself, although she was admittedly not trying very hard to control her responses. She said, “Besides to see Rory pull the wedgie out of his tight pants?”

  He closed his eyes as if hoping to transport himself to another dimension. He’d probably choose one with demons and fire-breathing dragons at this point.

  “Do not think that I’ve so soon forgotten that you insulted me in the village of the giants,” Bermuda said to Liv.

  This made Rory whip his eyes open. “Liv? You did what?”

  Liv blinked, trying to remember what Bermuda was talking about.

  Crossing her thick arms over her chest, Bermuda said, “You told me in front of my tribe that my old age hadn’t made me any more attractive.”

  Rory stuck both his hands into his hair, pulling it loose from the gel.

  “Oh, no, you didn’t.”

  “I was pretending to be Decar Sinclair,” Liv explained. “I obviously didn’t mean it, but rather was trying to stay in character. Isn’t that something that Decar would have said to you?”

  “Quite possibly,” Bermuda agreed, throwing her nose in the air and still looking offended.

  “Well, I apologize if I offended you,” Liv stated. “I, of course, think you’re as beautiful as a spring rose.”

  That was apparently not the right thing to say. Bermuda gestured in Liv’s direction as she glared at her son. “You see the disrespect that magicians show to us? The offenses never stop.”

  “Wait, I meant that as a compliment,” Liv argued.

  The three fell silent, Bermuda glaring at Liv, Rory staring at the floor like he was hoping to fall through it, and Liv teetering back and forth, wondering how to break the tension.

  “Roses are considered one of the most unattractive flowers among giants,” Rory informed her.

  “Of course they are,” Liv said dryly.

  The uncomfortable silence between the three grew.

  “Soooo…” Liv said, drawing out the word. “Is this a good time to ask you for help, Mrs. Laurens? I have a situation that could use your expertise.”

  Bermuda threw up her hands, sighing deeply. “Of course she needs my help.”

  “It’s really important,” Liv stated. “I mean, you don
’t have to offer me any help, but if you don’t, I’ll be a fae’s servant for ten years, which will sort of stop our progress on that whole ‘finding the truth’ business. Your call.”

  “Fine!” Bermuda said, thundering into the kitchen.

  “Fine as in I should leave?” Liv called after the woman.

  “Fine, as in I’ll help you,” Bermuda answered, her voice shrill.

  “Oh, well, should I follow you?” Liv asked, looking at Rory, who refused to glance up from the floor.

  “No!” Bermuda yelled. “I’m getting you crumpets, fruit, and some duck sausage. Otherwise, I fear you’ll waste away in front of me. Seriously, it’s hard to look at you without feeling your hunger pangs.”

  “Thank you?” Liv said, uncertainty in her voice.

  Rory glanced at her now, shame written on his face.

  “So, you and Mum having fun catching up?” Liv dared to ask.

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “Yes, and thanks so much for suggesting that she come and live with me while we investigate.”

  “You’re… you’re welcome,” Liv said, believing that Rory was close to murdering her.

  “She told me about my pops,” Rory said in a low voice.

  “And the secrets that she kept hidden?” Liv asked.

  He nodded. Swallowed. “I guess I should be thanking you. I wouldn’t have known any of this or that this secret was this big, affecting the giants, if not for you.”

  Liv didn’t know what to say to that. It was rare for Rory to show her any gratitude. “Your hair is…”

  “Don’t.” He shook his head, which broke his curls free of the gel.

  “You lot get over here and eat up before it gets cold,” Bermuda ordered.

  Liv gave Rory an uncertain expression, but he ushered her forward. “Go on. I can’t wait to find out what you need her help with.”

  “Oh, I think you can wait, but I like your attempt at sarcasm,” Liv said over her shoulder to him as Bermuda brought a huge tray into the living room.

  When she set it down, Liv didn’t think she'd ever seen such a compelling spread in all her life. China plates were piled high with fluffy crumpets surrounded by jars of homemade jam. Mounds of artfully arranged fruits sat in beautiful blue bowls decorated with little white daisies, and still steaming were a stack of sausages, the smell of which had the kittens scratching at the door. There was enough food on that one tray to feed Liv for days.

  “Don’t you have anything to eat?” Liv asked, halting in front of the table, which was covered with a lacy cloth and set with pink and white chinaware.

  “Sit and eat, magician,” Bermuda ordered, not appreciating her attempt at sarcasm.

  To Liv’s relief, a smile sort of cracked Rory’s face when she glanced at him. He urged her to the chair beside him.

  “So, the thing is—”

  “I said eat,” Bermuda reprimanded her, handing the plate of sausage to Liv. She pursed her lips and looked at Rory. “Magicians are the worst listeners. In all my dealings, they hear what they want to hear and ignore anything else.”

  Liv buttoned her mouth shut, taking a sausage from the plate and handing it to Rory with a tense expression. He seemed to be urging her to remain quiet, but they both knew that wasn’t going to last long.

  Bermuda piled a dozen small round crumpets on Liv’s plate.

  “Thanks, but that’s probably more than I need—”

  “Eat them,” Bermuda ordered, cutting her off.

  “Although I appreciate the spread, I just had lunch and—”

  “Ro, did I make myself completely clear to your magician friend? She doesn’t seem to understand me.”

  “Thing is, I’m an adult, and I don’t do what other people tell me to, even when I need their help,” Liv said, pushing her plate away.

  Bermuda grabbed the perfectly pressed pink napkin in her hand, crushing it. “Magicians have no idea how to be civil.”

  Liv couldn’t stand it anymore. She stood abruptly from the table, still not as tall as the seated giants. “Will you please tell me something else that magicians do wrong? I really love getting this education from you.”

  Bermuda’s face pinched with hostility.

  “Ro, are you going to allow your guest to speak to me like this?”

  Rory looked between his mum and Liv, like he was trying to decide. Then he shrugged. “Yeah, I think I am. There is really no controlling Liv.”

  Bermuda picked up her napkin and threw it on the table, her anger palpable. “That’s it, Ro! Go out and work on the chicken coop. I’m going to have a word with this runt magician.”

  Rory let out a heavy sigh. “No.”

  Bermuda flinched. “What did you just say to me, son?”

  “I said, no,” Rory stated simply.

  Bermuda gave Liv a murderous expression, her face vibrating with anger. “Get out of here, magician!”

  Rory stood beside Liv. “No, Mum.”

  Bermuda looked at her son and Liv, confused outrage in her eyes. “What is going on here?”

  Liv took a step backward, hoping to hide behind Rory if necessary.

  “I don’t want to build a chicken coop,” Rory began. “I like my yard the way it is, and I buy eggs from Mrs. Anderson at the Farmers’ Market.”

  “But she’s a mortal,” Bermuda complained. “I saw those eggs. They were small compared to the ones you could have.”

  “They work just fine,” Rory said matter-of-factly. “And I like supporting her, because she’s a nice lady.”

  “But she’s—”

  “Yes, she’s a mortal,” Rory cut in. “You used to have more tolerance for mortals and others.”

  “I think that your time living away from the village has colored your view,” Bermuda remarked.

  Rory shook his head. “No, it hasn’t. If anything, I see things more clearly. I understand what Liv wants, and she’s right that we can’t keep living with so many divisions, which means you shouldn’t treat her like she does everything wrong.”

  Bermuda’s mouth popped open, but she didn’t say anything.

  “And another thing,” Rory said, taking down the suspenders, “I don’t like these clothes. While I appreciate your input, I like the clothes I usually wear and the way I wear my hair.”

  He then pointed at the door, making it fly open. The kittens sprang into the living room from outside, led by Junebug. “And I like my kittens in the house.”

  “But they are—”

  Rory held up his hand, cutting off his mother. “Yes, they are mess-makers, but I don’t mind that so much. This is my house, and while you’re welcome to stay here always, you must respect the way I live” He clapped a hand on Liv’s back, nearly knocking her into the table. “And you have to respect my friends.”

  Once Liv had recovered from coughing up a lung, she looked up proudly at Rory. He didn’t return the smile she gave him.

  “Well, I didn’t realize I was exerting so much of my influence on your life, Ro,” Bermuda said, looking around the table indecisively. After a moment, she managed a smile. “Can we try again? I’ll try to remember your boundaries. I guess it’s hard for me not to take over when it comes to house and family things.”

  Rory nodded, pulling out Liv’s chair and offering it to her. She tentatively took a seat, peeking at Bermuda as she did.

  The giant studied Liv, pressing her lips together. She picked up a new napkin from the side of the table and folded it into her lap. “Well, shall we eat?” She shut her mouth suddenly and sat back in her seat. “I meant to say, there is food if you are hungry.” She grabbed a crumpet and spread jam on it, apparently trying to quell her emotions.

  Liv gave Rory a sideways glance as he took a seat next to her. “This looks great. Thank you, Mrs. Laurens.”

  “Now, you had a question for me? Go on.” Bermuda took a small, proper bite of the tiny crumpet.

  “Right, yes,” Liv said, trying to compose herself after the strange conflict. “I was wondering if yo
u could tell me how to get past a mermaid.”

  As civilized as Bermuda was trying to be, she choked on her bite, the half-chewed food flying across the table and landing in front of Liv’s plate.

  She eyed it and then Rory before looking at Bermuda. “So, this is going to be a piece of cake then, huh?”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Liv pushed her plate forward, covering the half-chewed bite sitting before her on the table.

  Bermuda dabbed the corners of her mouth. “Now, dear, I appear to have misheard you. I could have sworn you said something about mermaids. What did you really mean?”

  Liv nodded. “I meant mermaids.”

  Rory pushed away from the table, covering his forehead with his hands.

  Liv ignored him, focusing her attention on the giant on the other side of the table. “I read the section of your book about mermaids, Mrs. Laurens, but I didn’t find any strategies for getting by them. And actually what I need is to get something away from the mermaid.”

  Apparently having lost her appetite, Bermuda slid her plate away. “No one in their right mind would try to get past a mermaid or take what they are guarding from them.”

  Liv laughed. “That’s par for the course for me.”

  “Mag—” Catching the glare Rory flashed her, Bermuda changed her approach. “Liv, this is quite serious. Mermaids have the prowess of the worst sea monsters. Sharks and whales have nothing on them. But to make it worse, they have the cunning of the most seductive and deadly women on Earth. I didn’t offer any strategies in my book for dealing with them because there are none.”

  Liv deflated with defeat. “Well, I have to try something. I can’t just give up.”

  Rory tapped his fingers on the table, the wheels turning in his head. “This is what you have to do for Rudolf?”

  Liv nodded. “The mermaid is in the fountain in the House of Seven’s garden. I don’t know what she’s guarding, but she has to have been there for a long time.”

  Bermuda, looking uneasy, reached for her teacup. “I fear that whatever she’s guarding is going to complicate things even more.”