Unstoppable Liv Beaufont Boxed Set

by Sarah Noffke

  Stefan knew it was about balance. And achieving that balance, helping maintain it, had been his job. Now his mission was personal: to hunt down the beast who had marked him, trying to make him just like Sabatore. The irony that the demon hunter might one day become the very thing he hated wasn’t lost on Stefan.

  If Raina knew, she wouldn’t think it was ironic, though. His sister would be devastated if she knew he’d been bitten, which was why she didn’t know. Besides that, she might not be able to keep the news from the Council, and Stefan would be gone at once. That was the rule, and there were no exceptions. Those bitten were contaminated by evil, the venom surging through them, ready to take over at any point, the corruption starting from within.

  I have more time, he told himself. I have to. The alternative was unfathomable, and yet, Stefan knew how demons spread, marking magicians or elves or giants, spreading their disease and the evil they symbolized.

  For most of his career as a Warrior, he’d studied and trained for how best to track and kill demons. It wasn’t until it got personal that he began to research in the library how the virus was spread and how to stop it. He needed Sabatore’s blood. That was the only way to form the antidote. Hester had told him that much but hadn’t promised it would work. She’d given him one final warning before promising not to tell the Council.

  “Your secret is safe with me for a little while,” the councilor had told him in an aching voice. “However, when the time comes, you won’t be able to fight it. The demon will take you over, and Stefan will be lost forever.”

  He shook his head. “I won’t let that happen. I’ll end things first.”

  With pain in her eyes, Hester looked away. “I’m sorry to say that many as strong as you, have had the same intention, but it was too late by that point. It happens fast, sometimes with no warning. One moment you’re you, and the next… Well, you’re changed forever and also gone forever. Once the demon takes over, there is no coming back.”

  Stefan had realized what she’d meant when the voices started in his head; the echoes of the demon he would become. It wanted to swallow him whole, taking over his life and making him haunt this world for eternity. Stefan battled that demon presently in his head, shaking away the chanting that often woke him at night.

  “Tell me where Sabatore is and your death will be swift,” Stefan threatened the demon he had pinned against the wall.

  “You can’t kill me,” the demon said with a gurgled hiss.

  Stefan laughed morbidly. “That’s what they all say.”

  With one hand still on the hilt of his sword pinning the demon to the wall, its hands and legs restrained, Stefan pulled a red depour from inside his cape.

  The demon began to squirm more furiously, thrashing its head forward, trying to impale Stefan. He held it steady, though, used to how they freaked at this stage of the game.

  Pressing the sword more firmly into the demon, Stefan began to recite the magical text that released the demon from the Earth, but more importantly released that which was trapped within it. “Metuendas Dcemonis violentias, dimittere unam animam de amicae tuae involasti, permittens eos tandem.”

  The words he spoke had a new meaning for Stefan now. A personal one: Demon, release the soul of the one you stole, allowing them to finally rest.

  A scream that would haunt Stefan’s dreams spilled from the demon’s mouth, filling the night air with a sound most would dismiss or not hear at all. Metal on metal: that was how best it was described. A sharp noise that cut at the demon within Stefan, begging him not to continue. Not to murder the demon before him. He shook off the urge wrapping around his insides.

  In one swift movement, Stefan pulled the sword from the demon, launching his other hand into the gaping wound, inserting the red depour, which was the size of a rose petal, into the demon.

  “Ad infernum, a quo factum est tibi in sempiternum in ipse comburetis,” Stefan finished, dropping the demon and striding away.

  As the words he’d spoken streaked across Stefan’s mind, the demon burst into flames, consumed by the fire that would finally end it: Return to hell, from which you came, where forever you shall burn.

  Stefan turned when he was a safe distance from the demon, which was quickly reduced to ash. He pulled his handkerchief from his cape, wiping the blood from his hands first and then his sword.

  At his back, he heard a noise and spun around at once, finding only shadows and darkness.

  No, all was safe in Amsterdam for now, he told himself.

  The sounds of life on the nearby streets were suddenly more peaceful, as if the knowledge of the demon’s death had spread at once through the city. However, no one knew when a demon was slain, only that their nightmares had been given a respite.

  However, that wasn’t the case for Stefan Ludwig. His nightmare was only getting worse.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  None of it made sense.

  Liv tried dismissing what she’d seen in the back alleys of Amsterdam as purely House business, but it didn’t seem right to her. Plato had remained quiet for a long time, allowing her to talk things through as she tinkered with an alarm clock that should have been past repair. However, magic made many things possible, if she could just figure out all the things that were wrong with it. The clock was about like Stefan Ludwig. Liv couldn’t figure him out.

  “Hunting demons is one thing, but interrogating them?” Liv said for what felt like the hundredth time.

  Perched close by, Plato simply nodded again, still not offering any insights.

  “Who is Sabatore, and why is Stefan looking for him?” she mused, turning the alarm clock over in her hands, not really looking at it, but rather, lost in thought. “And why question a demon? They aren’t trustworthy in the least. It’s like asking Adler Sinclair for advice. Whatever he says is total bullshit and probably only serves his greedy, mysterious agenda.”

  “And here I thought you and Adler were starting to get along,” Plato joked.

  Liv shook her head. “I just don’t get it. Sabatore. Have I heard that name before?”

  “I don’t think so,” Plato stated with confidence.

  Liv looked up. “How do you know?”

  “I just know,” he said smugly.

  “You’re not with me all the time. I do have a life away from you, you know?”

  “Do you?” he challenged.

  She shrugged. “Yeah, you’re right. I probably don’t. Even when I’m alone, I’m pretty certain you’re spying on me somehow.”

  “Have you worked out the Latin he was speaking?” Plato asked.

  She sighed. “You know I haven’t, not all the way. Are you ready to fill in the rest for me, or are you going to pretend that you have no idea?”

  “How would you like me to proceed with this one? Give you hints? Tell you everything? Act like I don’t know?”

  Liv couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, I know it was an incantation, but a bit more complex than the ones I’m used to.” She pointed to the book, Mysterious Creatures. “I can’t find anything like that in that book, but I’m going to search the library, too.”

  “It’s a banishing spell,” Plato said with a yawn. “It’s meant to trap demons in the underworld where they supposedly came from.”

  “I got that bit about hell when he mentioned infernum,” Liv said. “I just didn’t understand the first part. Shockingly, my Latin is a little rusty after five years of hardly using it while working in a repair shop.”

  “Yes, I’m not sure I got the entirety of the message either,” Plato related.

  “Well, tell me what you think you heard.”

  “Something, something. People talking on the streets. Gurgling noise. Shallow breathing. A siren in the distance—”

  “I meant the bit Stefan said,” Liv stated, interrupting Plato’s attempt at bad humor.

  “Oh, that,” Plato said. “Roughly, I think he said, Demon, release the soul of the one you stole, allowing them to finally rest.”

&n
bsp; Liv raised an eyebrow at the cat. “Oh, is that ‘roughly’ what you heard? Sounds pretty exact, and maybe a bit rehearsed.”

  He shrugged. “What can I say? I used to know a demon hunter. The verse sort of came back to me.”

  Liv gave him a conspiratorial look. “And this incantation…it’s used to kill the demon?”

  Plato shook his head. “No, there are several ways to kill a demon. The way he did it was one of them, using fire. But the incantation is supposed to trap the demon, and more importantly, release the soul they leech onto.”

  A shiver ran over Liv’s arms. “So demons are actually people?”

  “Yes,” Plato affirmed. “Trapped souls are the vehicle the demons use.”

  Liv sneered. “Like renting a car.”

  “Yes, but there’s no steep insurance or new car smell,” Plato joked.

  “That’s so sad,” she related. “I had no idea that demons were so awful. Just the look of that thing was enough to haunt my dreams forever.”

  “Not to mention the smell,” Plato added.

  “Yes, I’m guessing that demon hygiene is pretty awful. And I bet they never floss.”

  Plato lowered himself to the workbench, making Liv look up at once. That was what he always did just before someone entered the shop, trying to make himself inconspicuous.

  Liv pushed the alarm clock to the side, ready to greet the person who walked through the door, expecting one of her usual customers.

  The person who staggered through the door wasn’t anyone she’d expected.

  Liv bolted up, every inch of her body tense and ready to fight, but she didn’t know why.

  The man who entered the shop didn’t have a familiar face, but there was definitely something about him. She couldn’t remember where she’d seen his long face or shifty eyes, but something told her that she had, and it wasn’t good. Plato had disappeared, which didn’t make her feel any better as she reached behind her on a nearby shelf for a screwdriver. It wasn’t Bellator, but it was going to have to do.

  The man pretended to look over the contents on the front shelf, his eyes cutting over to Liv every several seconds. The more she studied him, the less certain she was that she actually knew him. Maybe she was being paranoid. There were tons of shifty characters in WeHo. That was actually part of the charm, she thought with a mental laugh.

  “Can I help you find something?” Liv asked, noticing that he didn’t have an appliance in his hands, and therefore probably didn’t need anything repaired.

  The man shook his head roughly, his hands pressed into his jeans pockets.

  She could have sworn she knew him, but where from? His head was bald, and…his ears. They flickered, like a picture on television.

  She blinked, trying to decide what she’d just seen.

  “The Santa Ana winds picking up out there?” Liv asked, trying to make conversation or do anything to reveal more clues.

  The man shook his head, not giving anything away. He was wearing a loose-fitting t-shirt and knit pants with sneakers. There really wasn’t anything out of the ordinary about him. Holding the screwdriver behind her back, Liv tried to make sense of what she’d thought she’d seen. Had it been a figment of her imagination?

  Barking from the back made both the man and Liv start. She spun around, momentarily putting her back to the man. John was here. Maybe that was a good thing. Then she’d snap out of all this pondering and actually get some work done. It was only making her crazy.

  Feeling something stir behind her, Liv turned around to find the man closer than before, just on the other side of the workbench. She forced a smile, holding up the screwdriver. “Sure I can’t help you find something? What brings you in today?”

  He sneered, showing a mouthful of yellow teeth. Instantly she was sure she’d seen this man before, but where?

  “I don’t think you have what I’m looking for here,” the man said, his voice bringing with it familiarity.

  “What are you looking for?” Liv asked, her fingers tightening on the screwdriver.

  “It’s old,” the man answered, a haunting quality to his voice.

  Liv searched the space around the man, taking in the obstacles between them in case a fight broke out. She wanted to be prepared for anything.

  “Old? Like a vintage record player?” she asked.

  He shook his head and again his ears flickered, for a second appearing much more pointy than they appeared most of the time.

  He was an elf! She knew it at once.

  “Is it an electronic device?” she questioned, buying time.

  The man shook his head again, stepping to the side, his eyes intent on her.

  “I’ve got your coffee. Want me to bring it up there?” John called from the back.

  “No!” Liv answered at once. “I mean, no, thank you. I’ll be back there in a minute. Stay where you are.”

  The elf took another step in her direction.

  “What do you want?” Liv dared to ask. His glamour was fading, and with it any pretenses.

  “You know,” he sang, his voice raspy.

  Liv didn’t know, but she felt that she should.

  “I’m not a mind reader. Why don’t you tell me what you want?”

  The deranged look in the man’s eyes was unlike anything Liv had seen. He appeared more scarred from the inside out than any homeless person she’d seen on the streets. At her core, the man frightened her; not because of what he might do to her, but rather for John and the shop.

  “Give it to me,” the man said, his voice almost pleading as he stepped forward. “All you have to do is give it to me and they’ll end my suffering.”

  Liv stumbled back as the man lifted his arm. Reacting instantly, Liv leaned to the side, throwing her foot into his chest and knocking him across a display case. The sound of metal crashing to the floor assaulted her ears. The elf had gone down faster than she’d expected, but he’d also gotten back into position quicker than he should have.

  “What the heck is that?” John called from the back.

  “Nothing!” Liv yelled. “Stay back there!” She raised her hand, directing it at the man, but it was too late; she saw that at once. He released a blast of water, and it was like being hit by a firefighter’s hose. Water blasted her so hard in the midsection through her clothes that it burned her skin.

  It pushed her back hard into the shelf behind her, making a loud noise. Her spine hit the edge, making her fall to the floor.

  “Liv!” John called.

  There were rushing footsteps as the man stepped closer to her. This was Liv’s chance to attack him as he reloaded, ready to assault her again. She rolled over and took this opportunity to direct her hand at the door to the back, locking it so John couldn’t get through.

  The elf attacked her again, this time throwing himself at her. His fists missed her face as Liv dove over the fallen appliances, grabbing the man by the back of the shirt and tossing him into a different display case. He went down hard, seeming to have lost a great deal of energy. Liv was just about to throw another attack at him when he wailed like a child and cradled his arm.

  This gave her pause. She didn’t know how to deal with someone who reacted with such emotion. Allowing him to climb to his feet, Liv noticed that a wound had opened on the man’s arm and was pouring blood. Everything slowed down in her mind as she spied the black spider-like veins radiating away from the wound, reaching around the man’s arm, crawling up his shoulder, and then from under his shirt up to his neck.

  “You,” Liv said in a hushed voice, recognizing the elf she’d cut with Turbinger.

  He shook his head as he held his arm, the spider veins now covering his face. “This isn’t over,” he warned, and turned and raced from the shop.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Liv was shaking so violently from adrenaline and anger that she let the elf get away. It had happened so fast, and the shock that he’d come back for her—for the sword—had given her momentary pause.

 
In her mind, she should have stopped him. Detained him. Taken him to the House of Seven. But what was she going to say? “This is the elf I stole the giant’s sword back from when I broke into the National History Museum. Oh, and by the way, that was me. Surprise!”

  And there had been John to worry about. He was currently beating on the door to the back that she’d locked to protect him. With a wave of her hand, the locks disappeared and the door released, John stumbling through it immediately.

  With wide eyes, he stared at the chaos, his eyes finding Liv at once. “Are you all right? What happened?”

  She nodded, trying to will a full breath into her lungs. “I’m fine. And I’m sorry about this.” She motioned to the front of the shop, which was destroyed, shelves knocked over and appliances and their parts strewn across the floor.

  He shook off the apology. “I don’t care about the shop.” He looked her over, his brow furrowing before he pulled off his leather jacket and offered it to her. “Here, you’re shivering. Take this.”

  It wasn’t until then that Liv remembered she was drenched in the water the elf had sprayed at her. She declined John’s offer, using a drying spell to evaporate the water. That didn’t help with the pain where the water had burned her skin.

  “Do you want to tell me what happened here?” John asked, looking at the wreckage.

  “Would you believe that Plato got spooked and made this big mess?” Liv said, noticing when the lynx materialized on the other side of the workstation and jumped up so John could see him too.

  “And the water?” John asked, pointing to the puddles on the concrete floor.

  “Oh, yeah, well, he knocked over the water dish I had just given him when he got spooked,” Liv lied. “I think he saw his own shadow or something. You know how touchy he can be.”

  “Liv,” John said, crossing his arms and drawing out her name.

  “Okay, fine. It wasn’t Plato,” Liv said, going to work picking up the broken devices. She would have used her magic, but it felt weakened from the battle.