Reconciliation Of Hate
Exceptional S. Beaufont™ Book 11
Sarah Noffke
Michael Anderle
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 © 2021 LMBPN Publishing
Cover by Mihaela Voicu http://www.mihaelavoicu.com/
LMBPN Publishing supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.
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
PMB 196, 2540 South Maryland Pkwy
Las Vegas, NV 89109
First US Edition, January 2021
eBook ISBN: 978-1-64971-394-0
Print ISBN: 978-1-64971-395-7
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
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
Chapter 86
Chapter 87
Chapter 88
Chapter 89
Chapter 90
Chapter 91
Chapter 92
Chapter 93
Chapter 94
Chapter 95
Chapter 96
Chapter 97
Chapter 98
Chapter 99
Chapter 100
Chapter 101
Chapter 102
Chapter 103
Chapter 104
Chapter 105
Chapter 106
Chapter 107
Chapter 108
Chapter 109
Chapter 110
Chapter 111
Chapter 112
Chapter 113
Chapter 114
Chapter 115
Chapter 116
Chapter 117
Chapter 118
Chapter 119
Chapter 120
Chapter 121
Chapter 122
Chapter 123
Chapter 124
Chapter 125
Chapter 126
Sarah’s Author Notes
Michael’s Author Notes
Acknowledgments
Books By Sarah Noffke
Check out Sarah Noffke’s YA Sci-fi Fantasy Series
Books By Michael Anderle
Connect with The Authors
The Reconciliation of Hate Team
Thanks to the JIT Readers
Debi Sateren
Veronica Stephan-Miller
Diane L. Smith
Deb Mader
Allen Collins
Angel LaVey
Peter Manis
Jackey Hankard-Brodie
Larry Omans
If we’ve missed anyone, please let us know!
Editor
The Skyhunter Editing Team
For Bep, for all your thoughtfulness and support.
— Sarah
To Family, Friends and
Those Who Love
to Read.
May We All Enjoy Grace
to Live the Life We Are
Called.
— Michael
Chapter One
Roughly three hundred and some-odd years in the past…
Slain dragons lined the battlefield, most of them not moving. Some tried to make a last-ditch effort to survive, but this war was over, and everyone present knew it. Smoke and the smell of burning flesh wafted through the thick air—a would-be sign to those in the distance that a battle had been fought on these grounds. However, no one was near enough to know the events that had come to pass on that day.
No one would know until it didn’t matter anymore.
The moans of the riders sprawled beside their dying dragons was an insufferable sound to Talon Sinclair, a Councilor for the House of Seven. He yanked a handkerchief from his robe pocket and covered his nose and mouth, unable to stomach the smell much longer. He’d stepped through a portal moments after a deadly blow assaulted the final demon dragonrider.
The five Warriors for the House of Seven that he’d enlisted stood on the battlefield nearby, wounded from the fight, but none of them close to death. That had been because the demon dragonriders hadn’t seen this battle coming and walked right into the ambush. To make the fight even more decisive, Talon Sinclair had all of their magic locked at the House of Seven without them knowing it—a magical governing device that he’d invented and would use to control all in the magical world one day. It made it so that an unsuspecting magician’s magic suddenly was gone, rendering them defenseless in most situations.
Everything was going to plan.
One of the oldest magicians to ever live, Talon Sinclair had worked hard to take over the magical worlds slowly. That had involved making it so pesky mortals couldn’t see magic and erasing them from the House of Seven, which had once comprised them and made it the House of Fourteen. No one would remember that though, because he’d erased that history and written a new one.
Taking control over the other magical races hadn’t been hard. The elves, giants, and gnomes didn’t ca
re, keeping to themselves and minding their affairs. The fae were too much in a drunken stupor most of the time to realize that the world had pretty much changed overnight after the conclusion of the Great War. Magicians would do what the House of Seven wanted, which Talon Sinclair now controlled.
But dragonriders… They’d always been a thorn in Talon Sinclair’s side, upholding justice and putting mortal affairs at the top of the priority list. At first, it had been easy to dwindle the dragonriders’ numbers, pitting the Dragon Elite and Rogue Riders against each other, encouraging both sides to fight one another. Brother against brother. Few fights had more vengeance and personal gain behind them than between Hiker Wallace and Thad Reinhart.
Then it appeared that Hiker Wallace had won, sending Thad Reinhart to the depths of defeat. However, the leader of the Dragon Elite hadn’t seen what was coming next.
Overnight, mortals weren’t able to see magic anymore, and suddenly the precious moral adjudicators for the mortals were utterly useless. Talon Sinclair had felt no better victory than when the Dragon Elite sulked away to their headquarters, not to be seen again.
However, the Dragon Elite was composed of angel riders—those who wanted to do right by the world. The biggest nuisances for Talon Sinclair because they poked their noses where they didn’t belong.
Once they were gone, there was only one group to take care of—the demon dragonriders. They kept to themselves without Thad Reinhart’s leadership. However, they were still individually powerful, and if left unchecked, they might reform a group, one that could take over the magical world. Talon Sinclair couldn’t allow that to happen.
Expertly, he’d called all the demon dragonriders to that spot, inviting them on false grounds, using personal reasons that appealed to the rider’s particular interests. It wasn’t hard since they were selfish-minded. Once there, the demon dragonriders’ magic was disabled at the House of Seven, and the ambush commenced.
Talon Sinclair looked out over the battlefield littered with dead bodies and smirked. Dragon and rider must have been so perplexed without magic that they didn’t see the first or second blows coming. By then, their swords and fire were useless against the five Warriors for the House of Seven that Talon had enlisted for the tasks, led by his very own relative—Cassius Sinclair.
The Councilor strode over to where the Warriors all stood at attention, their focus on him. Many gave Talon looks of fear. He’d told them that the demon dragonriders were threats and convinced them that they needed to exterminate them. These Warriors wouldn’t question Talon, which was why he picked them: Cassius Sinclair, Solope Chienne, Lucille Mantovani, Jazebella Acker, and Enzo Bernardi.
Talon left the Beaufonts and Takahashis out of the lineup, knowing that they’d ask too many questions. They’d argue that there were other methods besides murder. They’d ruin everything. But they hadn’t, and now he’d done it.
There might be a few demon dragonriders left in the world, but like the Dragon Elite, they were powerless in this world that Talon Sinclair was quickly taking over.
Talon halted beside Cassius, the Warrior he trusted the most. Like Talon, his hair and beard were all white, having shared the same albino genetics. Their light-colored eyes briefly met as Talon leaned close and whispered in Cassius’ ear.
“Wipe their memories,” he ordered while cutting his gaze to the other Warriors.
It was better if there was no way the others could talk about this incident. Having a memory of it would pose too many risks.
Cassius nodded, a determined expression on his pale white face.
“If you have a problem with anyone, you know what to do,” Talon finally finished before marching forward and opening a portal back to the House of Seven.
He didn’t wait for Cassius’ reply. The Warrior would know that he should murder those who potentially could be trouble, the same as the demon dragonriders. That might be for the best anyway since it was high time there were new families in the House of Seven. Ones that Talon Sinclair could more easily control as he poised to take over the magical world further.
Chapter Two
Present day…
“What’s a breakfast burrito?” Evan stared at his plate of food like it might jump back and bite him instead of the other way around.
Trin, the housekeeper for the Gullington, gave Sophia a confused expression. “They don’t know what breakfast burritos are?” She swept her metal cyborg hand at the others at the table: Wilder, Mahkah, Hiker, Ainsley, and Quiet, excluding Mama Jamba for obvious reasons.
“They didn’t know what tacos were when I first got here.” Sophia laughed at Evan continuing to regard the tortilla stuffed with eggs and bacon and veggies.
“How is that possible?” Trin rested her hands on her hips while shaking her head at the group.
“Because we’re not Americans,” Evan stated, then pointed at Mahkah. “Well, he is but that doesn’t count because I don’t think his tribe spent much time at taco joints before he came to the Gullington.”
Everyone looked at Mahkah as though expecting the stoic Native American to answer. He swallowed his bite of hash browns, unhurried. “Not much. No.”
“Anyway,” Trin indicated the burritos she’d made for breakfast. “I thought I’d switch it up. That’s what you’d expect from a burrito, but it has eggs and bacon in it.”
“Weird.” Wilder grimaced at the platter of burritos.
“Says the vegan.” Evan laughed.
“I made you a tofu scramble one,” Trin offered. “I’ll go and fetch it.”
Ainsley shook her head while picking out the center of the burrito, obviously against the idea of lifting it to take a giant bite out of the thing the size of her head. She took a dainty portion. “Remember when you used to tell me to fetch things for you? Almost like I was NO10JO.” She batted her eyelashes at Hiker, a smile hiding below her expression.
“I never treated you like a dog,” Hiker grumbled while indicating the cyborg dog stationed on the other side of the threshold to the Castle’s dining hall.
“Oh, no,” Ainsley teased. “Dogs get treats and told how good they are.”
Hiker set his coffee mug down on the table with a little more force than he probably intended. “Are we truly doing this? I thought we were past all that.”
Ainsley coyly held her cup of steaming tea up to her chin, hiding her grin. “Oh, where would the fun be in letting go of centuries of being your housekeeper because I’d lost my memory saving your life?”
Hiker shook his head. “Obviously nowhere.”
Trin returned, carrying a plate with a single burrito on it, and laid it in front of Wilder.
“Thanks.” He looked at the rolled-up tortilla with uncertainty.
Sophia laughed and picked up her mammoth burrito. “You simply lift it and stick it in your pie hole.”
He watched her and copied the movement, cramming a bite into his mouth.
“Why is it that Mama Jamba and Wilder get custom orders every morning?” Evan pointed at Mother Nature, who was polishing off what would probably be her first of many plates of banana nut pancakes.
“Well,” Trin began, “I think it’s obvious why Mama Jamba gets whatever she wants.”
“Because of my southern charm,” Mama Jamba remarked, then handed the empty plate to Trin and pulled the next short stack toward her.
“Because she made everything on this planet,” Wilder corrected. “Including the planet.”
Evan, who still hadn’t touched his burrito, folded his arms over his chest. “I once made a table out of old wood.”
Mama Jamba patted Evan on the arm. “It was very nice. Not sturdy or well-made, but nice nevertheless.”
“Thanks.” Evan cheered up slightly.
Trin continued, “Wilder has special dietary needs.”
“Wilder,” Evan held up a single finger and corrected, “has special dietary preferences because he’s a special pain in the ass due to the way he was born.”
“It�
��s true,” Wilder affirmed and ate a bite of his burrito. “What’s your excuse?”