Reconciliation Of Hate (The Exceptional S. Beaufont Book 11)

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Reconciliation Of Hate (The Exceptional S. Beaufont Book 11) Page 22

by Sarah Noffke


  Chapter Sixty

  “Mooooo!” Lunis called over his shoulder as Sophia approached on the Expanse.

  “Are you mooing at me?” she asked her dragon, a mock look of offense on her face.

  He shook his head and indicated behind her. “No, I’m mooing at Bell and implying that she’s a big fat cow.”

  Sophia glanced over her shoulder to find the red dragon lounging in the distance, her eyes closed, but Sophia suspected she was only pretending to sleep.

  “I think you’re more than implying at this point.” Sophia turned back.

  “Well, I’m only trying to motivate her to take care of herself,” Lunis explained. “It’s because I care and don’t like seeing her let herself go. That’s what real friends do. The elders are enabling you, Fatty!” He said the last part loudly in Bell’s direction.

  “I think she’s fine,” Sophia stated.

  “She doesn’t move,” Lunis argued. “I saw a sheep outrun her yesterday.”

  Sophia couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, she doesn’t get out as much as you and the other dragons since Hiker sticks around here.”

  “Not an excuse,” Lunis said smugly. “She could fly around the Gullington or play with the dragonettes. That way they’d leave me alone!” Lunis said the last part in Bell’s direction again.

  “Where are all the dragonettes?” Sophia looked around.

  Lunis shrugged. “Someone might have told them that the first one to bring me a black sheep from the northern hills of the Gullington got a prize.”

  Sophia arched an eyebrow at him. “I didn’t think there were any black sheep here. I’ve never seen any if there are.”

  A sly grin spread on Lunis’ face. “There are none in the northern hills because there’s a magnetic field up there that causes disorientation. Mahkah advised me early on not to fly there because I’d get lost.”

  “Oh, but he hasn’t told the dragonettes that yet?”

  Lunis lowered his head, a guilty expression in his eyes that he tried to hide. “He left that job up to me.”

  “You…” Sophia shook her head at her dragon. “So you’re tricking the dragonettes. Making fun of the oldest dragon on Earth. Anything else you’re doing to avoid contributing to the Dragon Elite?”

  “I drank a bottle of whisky that Evan thought he’d successfully stashed in the Nest,” Lunis stated.

  Sophia pursed her lips. “I think you helped us out there. Yeah, I knew he snuck away there to drink when we’re supposed to be ‘training.’”

  Lunis stretched before lying down on the grass. “Now I’m going to take a nap and enjoy my buzz before the angel dragons return with newbie riders.”

  Sophia glanced out to the edge of the Expanse where the Barrier was. “Do you expect them to return soon?”

  He nodded. “I suspect as much. So get ready for some freshmen.”

  “Things are quickly changing, aren’t they?” Sophia asked, excited for new riders and nervous. It was good that their numbers were growing for many reasons, but the most important one was that she suspected they would need more riders to defeat Versalee and Nathaniel swiftly. Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that, but she didn’t have a lot of hope at this point. Not with the Trudy situation.

  “They are, but that’s life. It’s the way of life. Those who resist die. Those who avoid it find pain.” Lunis slipped into his sage-like voice, then lifted his head and glared at Bell. “And those who lay on their butts get fat.”

  Sophia covered her giggle. “Isn’t that what you’re doing?”

  He nodded. “I’m going to get up after a while and run around Bell so that she remembers what the movement looks like.” Lunis grinned at the elder dragon, who had one eye peeked open now. “I’ll even reteach you how to fly. It’s like riding a bike. But if you fall it hurts a whole lot more.”

  “Well, good luck with that,” Sophia stated. “Rest up. I think I’m going to need your help soon on a mission to rescue a Warrior for the House of Fourteen.”

  “Oh, good!” Lunis chirped. “Liv got herself abducted. Dreams do come true. I can’t help. I’m real, real busy.”

  Sophia shook her head. “It’s not Liv. It’s Trudy DeVries.”

  Lunis looked at his wrist as if he wore a watch. “Oh, look at that. My schedule has cleared up, and I can help.”

  “I’m going to try not to be offended at your insensitivity that my sister could have been in danger.”

  He shrugged, stretching out. “It would be better if you did get offended. Get those feathers ruffled a little, you know. It’s good for you.”

  Sophia shook her head and ambled back toward the Castle. “See you later, Lun. Try and behave yourself.”

  “No,” he spat at once. “Also…”

  Sophia glanced over her shoulder at him. “What?”

  “I knew it wasn’t Liv,” he stated. “She’s way too skilled to get herself abducted. Yes, I’ll be ready to help.”

  Chapter Sixty-One

  Sophia knew it wasn’t that Trudy DeVries wasn’t skilled. She had been a Warrior for much longer than Liv. However, the Rogue Riders shouldn’t be underestimated. They were dragonriders after all, even if they were new and untrained. Dragons only magnetized to highly skilled magicians. The Dragon Elite already knew that the Rogue Riders didn’t fight fair and there were a lot of them and only one of Trudy. Somehow they caught her. Hopefully, the Dragon Elite could rescue her before something happened to her.

  First, Sophia needed more information. That’s why she had gone to Roya Lane after planning a meeting with Liv.

  When Sophia entered the Fantastical Armory the smell of corned beef and sauerkraut was strong in the air. Subner sat in his usual spot, opening his mouth wide to stuff a Reuben sandwich into it.

  Liv grimaced, looking green as she waved her hand in front of her on the far side of the shop. “Do you have to eat that in here?”

  Subner took his time chewing and finally replied, “Well, it’s my shop, so yes.”

  Liv’s eyes fluttered with annoyance as she glanced at Papa Creola, who was right next to her. “I’ve never seen that man eat in this shop, but he finds out that I have morning sickness and brings in the smelliest food he can find.”

  “I could have brought in something smellier,” Subner retorted. “I happened to be in the mood for a Reuben with extra sauerkraut.”

  “What’s on the menu tomorrow?” Liv narrowed her eyes at the Protector of Weapons. “Anchovies? Maybe some durian? Or surstromming?”

  “Why not all three?” Subner took another bite.

  Papa Creola gave Liv a sympathetic expression. “The morning sickness will hopefully pass soon, and you’ll feel better.”

  Subner dropped the sandwich on the wrapper it came in and rolled his eyes. “Maybe. Or maybe you’ll be one of those pregnant people who is sick through to the third trimester. It might get worse.”

  Liv shot him a murderous glare. “Why are you so cheerful all the time? Your optimism is overwhelming.”

  Shaking his head, Papa Creola patted Liv’s hand resting on the counter. She seemed to be bracing herself, as though she might run to the restroom at any moment. “I’m sure this will pass. Let’s see if Bep can make you a potion that helps.”

  Subner’s face pinched with evident frustration. He wrapped up the sandwich, but only loosely, and dropped it into the waste bin next to him, glaring at Liv the entire time.

  “Oh, so you craved a Rueben, did you?” she fired. “That’s why you took two bites and now will let it stink up the place for the remainder of my visit?”

  “Again, my shop, my rules,” Subner replied. “If you don’t like it, you can leave.”

  “I would, but I was waiting for Sophia.” Liv finally directed her attention to the door where Sophia stood, quietly watching the strange exchange. The tension between Liv and Subner was palpable.

  “Well, she’s here so you can leave, can’t you?” Subner unraveled a mint and popped it into his mouth.

 
Unhurried, Liv brought her chin around to look at Papa Creola. “Do you have anything else for me before I go? We’re going to try and find information on what’s happening in Las Vegas.”

  “That’s the chief priority,” Papa Creola stated. “As soon as you hear from Renswick, I want to know about the status of the baby, whether it’s a demon or not.”

  “Either way it’s going to be insufferable,” Subner mumbled.

  Liv shot him another angry look. “Well, maybe you can give him or her lessons on how to cope then.”

  “I don’t like people and don’t care if they like me,” Subner fired back, shooting dagger-like looks at her.

  “Oh good,” Liv said with mock relief. “Here I was worried that you didn’t know we all can’t stand you.”

  “I messaged Rudolf on my way over,” Sophia interrupted, trying to interject extra positivity into her tone. “He’s at the Crying Cat Bakery. You want to head over now, Liv?”

  Without taking her gaze off Subner, she grabbed her cloak off the counter and slipped it on. “Yeah, let’s go. I could use a cookie.”

  “Try not to become fat,” Subner called as she headed for the door. “As a magician, you’re not immune to gestational diabetes.”

  “Try not to die of a heart attack from eating that Reuben,” Liv sang back, ushering Sophia out the door. “As a pain in the ass, you’re not immune from death.”

  “Actually, as the Protector of Weapons, I am.” Subner had to have the last word in the argument. “Don’t worry. I won’t attend your funeral.”

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  “What the fork was that about?” Sophia asked when they were out on Roya Lane, the skies gray and the air brisk.

  Liv shook her head, sighing. “Methinks that Subner is a little jealous. He’s had Papa Creola’s attention since the beginning. Then I came along and started working for him. He’s never liked me much, but he doesn’t like anyone, as he admitted. Then I made it that much worse by being awesome and whittling down Papa’s tough exterior, making him sort of like me.”

  “Now there’s a baby to add to the mix,” Sophia guessed.

  “Yep.” Liv popped her lips. “Poor little Subner probably thinks the baby will come along and steal his attention away even more.”

  “That will never happen,” Sophia stated. “He’s Papa Creola’s assistant and always has been.”

  Liv grinned. “The baby is totally going to steal attention away from that grumpy old man. He or she or demon or whatever is already.”

  Sophia nodded. “Yeah, I’ve never seen Papa Creola dote on you the way he was a minute ago.”

  “Exactly,” Liv chirped. “I think a new baby is making him a little sentimental. Nothing like new life to remind the oldest being of why they created time in the first place.”

  “I’m sure that’s a fascinating story,” Sophia mused.

  Liv nodded. “It involved a really strange conversation with Mother Nature and stardust that has hallucinatory effects. Bam, that’s how babies are made.”

  Sophia laughed. “I don’t think so. Hopefully, poor Subner will come around eventually.”

  “Subner has never come around,” Liv argued as they turned the corner, heading toward the Crying Cat Bakery. “I think it’s safe to assume that he’ll be as consistent as time with his stubborn crankiness.”

  “Are you feeling better?” Sophia noticed that some of Liv’s color had returned.

  She nodded and lifted her chin. “The fresh air helps. A cookie will too.”

  “I don’t think you should eat anything from this bakery when you’re pregnant, or otherwise either,” Sophia advised. “I know all too well that the ingredients are suspect and never what you’d expect.”

  “Sounds like Clark’s cooking.”

  Sophia laughed while pulling open the door to the bakery and holding it for Liv. Her sister lowered her chin and gave her an irritated expression.

  “Don’t you start doting too.”

  Sophia shook her head. “I want you to go in first to deal with whatever charades are happening in there. The last time I came in here, I had a knife thrown at my head.”

  Liv proudly nodded. “I respect your reasoning. I throw knives when guests enter my place too.”

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  Lee was shaking her head at King Rudolf when they entered the bakery. She leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest. “Nope. Nope. Nope. I refuse to help hippie elves.”

  Rudolf sighed. “It doesn’t matter who they are. They’re paying customers and have an algae problem on one of the South Pacific islands.”

  “Well, then they should try showering regularly,” Lee stated. “That’s what they get for being dirty hippies.”

  Rudolf scratched his head, the confused expression he wore so often springing to his face. “I don’t think the algae grew because they don’t shower enough. It’s their drinking water. Apparently, it has strange effects on them and makes them more docile.”

  “Now I’m really not doing it,” Lee affirmed. “Docile hippies are an improvement. They’ll be less likely to go on about their essential oils and crystals.”

  The king of the fae grew slightly more irritated. “You can’t turn away business because you don’t like someone. If that were the case, I wouldn’t sell Heals Pills to half the ugly magicians who come into the store, but I hope they take the elixir and it fixes their bad attitude as well as their homely faces.”

  “I agree with Lee on not helping the hippie elves,” Liv stated, gaining both their attentions. “Maybe we poison their water some more instead of fixing it.”

  Rudolf sighed and looked at Sophia. “Help me out. Your boyfriend is a hippie. You have some sympathy for them.”

  Sophia shook her head. “He’s not a hippie. He’s a dragonrider.”

  “He’s a hippie,” Liv argued.

  Sophia swung around to face her sister. “No, he’s not.”

  “His name is Wilder,” Rudolf argued.

  “He’s a vegan,” Liv added.

  “I bet he prefers living away from people, knows all the latest music, suffers from wanderlust, and he walks around barefoot all the time.”

  Sophia grunted in frustration. “Wilder doesn’t walk around barefoot.”

  “But he does all the other things,” Rudolf said victoriously.

  “I’m staying out of this discussion anyway,” Sophia stated. “We’re here to get information on what’s going on in Las Vegas.”

  “I’m happy to help you, but first I have to take a phone call.” Rudolf pulled out his phone and stuck it to his ear.

  “It’s not ringing, King Dork-Face,” Liv pointed out, indicating the phone.

  “No, it isn’t, but my spidey senses tell me that it will be.” Rudolf held up the device. As he predicted, the phone rang a second later.

  “Were you expecting a call?” Liv asked.

  He shook his head. “No, but recently I had some dental work done, and the filling in my molar vibrates when my phone is about to ring.”

  “What kind of dentist did you go to?” Sophia asked.

  He frowned at her. “Dentist? I didn’t go to one. I used a spell when I was at the Apple store.”

  Liv rolled her eyes. “Well, there you go, Mr. Dimwit.”

  Rudolf held up his finger as the phone rang in his hands. “No, no, no. That’s King Dimwit, remember?”

  Before Liv could reply, he answered the phone while striding for the opposite corner of the bakery.

  “Why do I ask that man questions?” Liv shook her head.

  “Why does he get cavities?” Lee questioned. “He’s a fae with access to a magical elixir.”

  “I’ve never brushed my teeth,” Rudolf called from the other side of the bakery, obviously have overhead them. “Ever,” he added.

  Sophia shivered. “Gross.”

  Liv shrugged. “Not really. For as repulsive as that man is, the fae always smell great. They don’t have bad breath, bad hair days, or bad body odor. It
appears their luck does run out and they can get a cavity.”

  “After six hundred years,” Rudolf added, still on the phone.

  “Speaking of getting cavities,” Sophia began, speaking to Lee. “I need you to make a cake.”

  “What’s it for?” Lee questioned with a skeptical expression.

  “Christmas,” Sophia answered.

  “What flavor?” Lee asked.

  “Oreo.”

  Lee nodded. “Who’s it for?”

  “My dragon.”

  Lee pulled a piece of paper from a stack on the table where she sat and sketched something. Sophia thought it was a design for the cake, but then the assassin baker turned the note around and in bubbly letters was the word, “Nope.”

  “What do you mean, nope?” Sophia asked.

  “None of those things exist,” Lee answered. “So there’s no way I’m making that cake.”

  “Ummm, Christmas, Oreos, and dragons are all real things,” Sophia argued.

  Liv tapped her boot, looking amused. “I’m with Lee on the dragon thing. I think Phillip is a big dog in a suit.”

  “His name is Lunis,” Sophia muttered, irritated. “He’s a real dragon.”

  “Christmas was invented by the gnomes when they tried to pull off a hoax that they worked for that bogus Santa character,” Lee explained matter-of-factly. “They were trying to make us all believe that they could take most of the year off to make toys, but we figured them out. They were sleeping in their dumb caves and living off government subsidies.”

  “Makes sense,” Liv stated. “And Oreos?”

  “Those are real cookies,” Lee argued. “There was this whole thing with fairies. They were supposed to be trying to help the gnomes make fake snow for their pretend Santa’s Village, and they made an overabundance of that cream filling. Once the gnomes were caught, the fake snow had to be cleared out so some smarty decided to put it between two chocolate wafers and sell it as cookies since it’s sweet.”

 

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