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The Misplaced Warrior (The First Beaufont Book 3), page 1

 

The Misplaced Warrior (The First Beaufont Book 3)
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The Misplaced Warrior (The First Beaufont Book 3)


  THE MISPLACED WARRIOR

  THE FIRST BEAUFONT™

  BOOK THREE

  SARAH NOFFKE

  MICHAEL ANDERLE

  DON’T MISS OUR NEW RELEASES

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  This book is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.

  Copyright © 2024 LMBPN Publishing

  Cover by Cover by Fantasy Book Design

  Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing

  A Michael Anderle Production

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  The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact support@lmbpn.com. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  LMBPN® Publishing

  2375 E. Tropicana Avenue, Suite 8-305

  Las Vegas, Nevada 89119 USA

  Version 1.00, July 2024

  eBook ISBN: 979-8-88878-750-2

  Print ISBN: 979-8-88878-962-9

  THE MISPLACED WARRIOR TEAM

  Thanks to the JIT Readers

  Veronica Stephan-Miller

  Christopher Gilliard

  Jackey Hankard-Brodie

  Daryl McDaniel

  Diane L. Smith

  Dave Hicks

  Deb Mader

  Dorothy Lloyd

  Jan Hunnicutt

  Angel LaVey

  For Melanie, a superfan!

  — Sarah

  To Family, Friends and

  Those Who Love

  to Read.

  May We All Enjoy Grace

  to Live the Life We Are

  Called.

  — Michael

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  The Story Continues

  Author’s Notes: Sarah Noffke

  Author’s Notes: Michael Anderle

  Books By Sarah Noffke

  About Sarah

  Books By Michael Anderle

  Connect with The Authors

  CHAPTER ONE

  UNDER THE INDIFFERENT STREETLIGHTS

  Zhuang Avenue, Los Angeles, California, United States

  Murder was always Charlie Sloane’s favorite option for dealing with his problems. Gen Beaufont was definitely his biggest trouble since taking office as the Commissioner of Los Angeles. Unfortunately, murdering her was proving to be too risky of a venture. She was well protected and the danger of being caught was too great for Charlie—so he’d resort to other ways of getting rid of his problem.

  Zhuang Avenue was a place full of criminals and drug addicts where Charlie had rarely found himself. It had been well policed by the Rogue Riders and the LAPD back in the day, but since the change in leadership in the city, things had shifted. The new Commissioner of Los Angeles wasn’t concerned with regulating the safety of the metropolis. He needed a certain level of crime to exist for now in order to maintain his control and ultimately achieve his goals. Soon he would make this city safe by making the people as complacent as dummies.

  From his tinted window, Charlie Sloane observed the dismal corner of Zhuang Avenue with a detached grimace. The stench of decay and human waste wafting through even the well-sealed luxury window of his car was revolting. The sidewalks, littered with makeshift tents and stained mattresses, were crowded with the lost souls of the city. Their faces were etched with the despair of addiction and poverty.

  Every shadow seemed to twitch with illicit transactions, the quick exchanges of crumpled bills for small bags that promised oblivion. The distant wails of sirens mingled with the cacophony of shouting and broken glass. It was all a relentless reminder of the lawlessness that thrived under the watch of indifferent streetlights.

  As Charlie parked his car on the corner, his thoughts were not of solutions to the problems of this area of Los Angeles. Instead, he centered his attention on how he’d solve his newest and biggest problem. If Charlie Sloane was going to own this city, then he’d have to use crime to his advantage—and there was one person who could help him most with that.

  Taking his position in the arranged meeting spot, the Commissioner searched the area around the dark corner for potential attackers. He hadn’t brought any guards, since this meeting was top secret. That had been part of the agreement since the beginning. Charlie hadn’t hesitated about the terms of the arrangement, since it landed him in the position as the Commissioner of Los Angeles—the place of supreme authority over the city.

  Fortunately, Charlie didn’t have to inhale the toxic fumes of Zhuang Avenue for long. The swoosh of fabric and clap of feet stopping around the corner told him that the person he’d come to meet had arrived. It was always like that at each meeting. No face-to-face contact. No direct interactions. No proof that the two had an arrangement. Just a spoken word and a mutual partnership that benefited both of them.

  “She ruined the bank robbery,” Charlie Sloane said in a hush, looking straight ahead at the grimy street in front of him, but talking to the man standing on the other side of the corner at his back.

  “We can’t prove that,” the man replied in a deep voice. “I’ve tried. What about the robbery crew and the snipers on the roof? What about Barry Fer?”

  Charlie shook his head. “They don’t remember anything. Their memories were wiped of the events right before they were knocked out.”

  The other man growled. “Sounds like mind control.”

  “The dragon,” Charlie guessed, shaking his head. “There was one man on the robbery team who awoke from the gas grenade in the construction tunnel and reported seeing a woman disappearing into the underground. He said she had a long blonde braid.”

  “That’s Gen Beaufont,” the man seethed. “I knew it, but there’s no proof.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Charlie said, urgently. “We need to get rid of her.”

  “I can’t touch her,” the guy argued. “You know that.”

  Charlie nodded. “Which is why we’re going to set her up. I don’t need her dead. I just need her out of the way for what I’ve got planned next.”

  “What do you have in mind?” the other man asked.

  A sly grin spread on Charlie’s face. “We’re going to use Gen’s compulsion to fight crime to our advantage. She needs to be this vigilante, so let’s give her what she wants. Put her at the scene of a major crime. I don’t think she’ll stop it this time.”

  The other man shuffled slightly. “Why?”

  Charlie caught the large man’s movement out of his peripheral vision but kept his eyes trained ahead. “Because she’ll be the thief this time.”

  A laugh cut through the tension. “We’re going to frame her.”

  Charlie nodded with evil delight. “And it will be an airtight conviction. Even her family won’t be able to save her. Then we’ll lock her up and throw away the key.”

  Another laugh. “Tell me the plan. I’m in.”

  The Commissioner of Los Angeles grinned, feeling the rush of adrenaline from his imminent victory. All he had to do was get rid of one problem and then he would own this city. All the money, fame and prestige he’d wanted since the beginning would be his. But best of all would be that he’d be undisturbed by people. The repugnant people of Los Angeles would simply leave him alone, not creating headaches for him. That’s what Charlie Sloane wanted most—and nothing and no one would stop him.

  CHAPTER TWO

  A FEAST OF RESENTMENT

  Veranda, Rogue Rider Mansion, Beverly Hills, California, United States

  “Only you can stop this,” Jack Lane said, looking sideways at Gen as they stood on the veranda overlooking the sprawling grounds of the regal estate. In the distance, the dragons were lounging on the grounds of the Rogue Rider estate, many of them enjoying their breakfast as the sun peeked up, making its way into the blue California sky.

  Gen pulled in a breath, her attention focused on the large and indulgent spread of breakfast foods that Amanda had laid out. She glanced at Jack beside her with reluctance. “You want me to tell Amanda to stop making such an extravagant breakfast? I think that the house manager will be offended since she’s doing it to be nice.”

  Spread on a long row of tables covered in white cloth was a lavish assortment of breakfast foods. The dishes filled the air with the warm, inviting scent of freshly baked goods and savory delicacies. Thoughtfully, each item was labeled so that Gen knew exactly what it was.

  Golden, fluffy scrambled eggs were nestled beside crisp strips of bacon, their smoky aromas mingling with the rich, buttery fragrance of pancakes and waffles. A colorful array of fresh fruits, from juicy, sun-kissed strawberries to sweet, succulent melons, added a vibrant burst of natural sweetness to the feast. Flaky, melt-in-your-mouth croissants and pastries beckoned with their delicate, layered texture. There was even a selection of artisanal cheeses and cured meats.

  Jack grinned at her, his eyes catching the morning sunlight and looking extra blue. “Yes, because Amanda likes you and wants to make you feel welcome. But in the process, she’s making the other Rogue Riders detest you.”

  Gen glanced over to the seating area under the flower-filled arbors where many of the other dragonriders were busy scarfing down their breakfast foods. The gentle clinking of dishes and the terse murmurs of the others glaring in her direction made Gen feel more than unwelcome. Jack wasn’t wrong. The others weren’t endeared to Gen because of the generous spread they were getting. Their looks of hostility showed that they resented Gen for the special treatment she was receiving.

  Apparently, before Gen showed up, Amanda didn’t put out such elaborate buffets of food. Most mornings were more of a grab-and-go affair. Although the refrigerator was always stocked, Amanda had quit providing full meals when Sophia Beaufont was fired as leader of the Rogue Riders. This was her silent protest to Dwayne Stone’s election to the position. But now that a Beaufont was back in the ranks, the house manager was in a better mood and taking care of things at the Rogue Rider mansion.

  “I think their treatment of me might also be due to Dwayne’s influence,” Gen muttered, tossing her long, blonde braid off her shoulder and taking the plate that Jack handed to her.

  Sully slid in between the pair, cutting the line. “I heard that, Jacky Boy. And Gen, under no circumstances should you stop Amanda from feeding us so well.” He turned to Gen, pushing his glasses up his nose with a snort as he laughed. “I say, let those lame-os over there loathe you. They are just jealous because you’re so pretty and can also kick their ass.”

  “They aren’t jealous of me,” Clipper said, striding over from the table of haters. She picked up what was labeled a biscuit from the long buffet and dropped it on Jack’s plate, batting her artificially long eyelashes at him.

  He eyed the unsolicited biscuit and then her, a skeptical look on his face like he was trying to decide whether to keep the offering or not. Then he slid the biscuit to the edge of his plate and ladled creamy scrambled eggs beside it, ignoring her.

  “Clipper, you’re pretty like Medusa, in a scary, you’ll be the death of people kind of way,” Sully stated. “And ironically, the only ass you kick is of some weak mortal you’re fighting to get the last spray tanner at Sephora. Maybe if you spent a little more time practicing your combat moves and a little less time doing your nails, you might stand a chance against a real warrior. Not Gen, though—she’s the real deal.”

  “Thanks,” Gen said, blushing, scooping mixed berries onto her plate. “I’m not really that great at combat. I just get lucky.”

  Jack laughed, combing a hand over his elegantly chaotic, dark brown hair with an amused smile. “Yeah, you were so lucky when you put Sully in a chokehold that he couldn’t get out of.” He winked at her. “And you did look pretty doing it. That definitely annoys all those riders over there who can’t fight and look like they just stepped out of the medieval era with their patchy beards and disgusting rashes.”

  The look he gave Gen was enough to make her drop her plate. She busied herself, pretending to be looking for just the right banana nut muffin.

  “Jack, I could use some extra practice with combat,” Clipper said, tapping him on the shoulder, pursing her ruby lips. “Will you spar with me after breakfast?”

  “I’ll do it!” Sully cheered, picking up the biscuit that Clipper had put on Jack’s plate and shoving it back at her. “Here and take this. I don’t want you giving my boy some random disease. I need him with me to rough up some guys on Wilshire Boulevard this afternoon.”

  Clipper glared at Sully before redirecting her attention to Gen. “And yes, everyone here hates you because you get special treatment from Amanda and put Dwayne in a sour mood.”

  “Then stop eating the food I magically prepare!” Amanda, the house manager, sang, striding out of the mansion and pointing an accusatory finger at the group of riders eating at the tables. “How about I make all that food disappear with a wave of my hand? The way the spell goes is I made it and I can take it away.”

  Many of the riders picked up their plates and stormed for the other set of doors, leading into the inside dining area. Amanda sighed, shaking her head at them, watching them leave but not delivering on her threat.

  She turned her attention to the drink station, frowning. “And would it kill you all to not dribble the coffee from the carafes when pouring?” She swirled her finger in the air, making sparks fly from it and over to the drink area. Instantly, the small puddles of coffee on the table disappeared and the station tidied itself, looking like it had when Amanda originally set it up.

  “Thanks so much for such a nice breakfast,” Gen said, smiling at the other woman. “But maybe if you tell the other riders that you’re not giving me special treatment then they’ll be a bit more appreciative and maybe clean up after themselves.”

  Amanda laughed loudly, her brown ponytail swaying over her shoulder. “Oh, but I do it for you, Gen. You deserve special treatment.”

  “Because she’s a Beaufont,” Clipper muttered bitterly, tossing the biscuit into the trash, but missing.

  “Because she’s awesome and stands up for what she believes and won’t quit in the face of challenges,” Amanda argued. “She stood up to Dwayne when he was trying to make his dragon fight a bear. She intervened in that museum heist. And she took that stupid moral philosophy exam instead of quitting like Dwayne wanted her to.”

  Gen hadn’t taken the exam since she was stopping the robbery at the Federal Reserve Bank. Amanda actually did it for her. She knew that this was what the house manager meant but couldn’t say about facing challenges.

  Clipper shook her head, making her way for the door to the mansion, like the others. “Again, Gen, you’re only bringing more problems for us. If you minded your own business, Dwayne wouldn’t be so angry, making us do extra training exercises. And after your little teacher’s pet business, now we all have been assigned curriculum to read and pass. Why don’t you do as Dwayne suggests and quit—go live off your family fortune and leave being Rogue Riders for us.”

  Gen was about to give the woman a piece of her mind, as she knew that Emperor would demand. Her dragon had said from the beginning that she shouldn’t allow the other riders to bully her and had to exert her own dominance.

  However, before she could form a proper rebuttal, Amanda cut in. “Oh, hey, Clipper..”

  “What?” the other woman said, swinging around, her long black hair flying over her shoulder.

  “You forgot something.” Amanda swiped her hand through the air, magically picking up the battered biscuit on the ground and lobbing it through the air. It hit Clipper straight in the forehead, making her shield her face, but a moment too late, after the assault.

 

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