Determine The Future
Exceptional S. Beaufont™ Book 10
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 © 2020 LMBPN Publishing
Cover by Mihaela Voicu http://www.mihaelavoicu.com/
Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing
A Michael Anderle Production
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, November 2020
eBook ISBN: 978-1-64971-303-2
Print ISBN: 978-1-64971-304-9
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
Chapter 127
Chapter 128
Chapter 129
Chapter 130
Chapter 131
Chapter 132
Chapter 133
Chapter 134
Chapter 135
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 Determine The Future Team
Thanks to the JIT Readers
Veronica Stephan-Miller
Diane L. Smith
Deb Mader
Dorothy Lloyd
Nicole Emens
Jackey Hankard-Brodie
Peter Manis
Angel LaVey
If we’ve missed anyone, please let us know!
Editor
The Skyhunter Editing Team
For Micky, for keeping me smiling.
— 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
The angry dragon’s murderous roar shook the cracked desert ground under the rider’s boots. Nathaniel Ace pulled back the whip and shot it forward at the two fighting dragons, making them separate. His green dragon Bolt cocked his head to the side and shot him a warning look. Surprisingly, it was Coal, the smaller black dragon that shrank away with a deep laceration down the side of her neck.
“Save some for the real fight,” Nathaniel Ace advised as he pulled the long whip back and pinned Bolt with a threatening expression as if tempting the dragon to lunge at him again. The last time, Nathaniel had nearly lost a hand after he slammed his fist into the dragon’s face and Bolt tried to bite it clean off. However, the not-yet full-grown dragon backed down when challenged, which had been a risk, but how else was Nathaniel going to exert dominance over him? It took risks, ones that he hoped would pay off.
Bolt opened his mouth, no doubt about to shoot fire straight at Nathaniel—yet again. The man held up the whip in his hand and narrowed his eyes at his dragon. “I’d think long and hard about that if you don’t want to endure the pit again.”
The green dragon’s eyes slid in the direction of the large covered hole the others had dug into the desert floor. The magically enhanced netting over it sealed misbehaving dragons in and put them in long bouts of isolation. Getting the dragons in the pit was the actual chore, but nothing a little collective magic from the other riders couldn’t fix.
Keeping the dragons in there was easy as long as one could endure the constant noise of their complaints. Bolt had lungs to impress, but thankfully his screams of protest were all he could manage in the hole. Otherwise
the dragon, whose element was lightning, would probably have tried to electrocute everyone in the camp—yet again. And Bolt wondered why Nathaniel had to resort to such modes of punishment. If only he would learn to behave and bow to his master as the other dragons did with their riders.
Finally, Bolt spun after a lengthy standoff. The dragon’s long spiked tail nearly whipped Nathaniel in the head, but he ducked in time. His gaze was seething when he rose back to his full height, but he decided to let that bold act of rebellion go. It was about choosing his battles with Bolt. Otherwise, they’d always be at odds.
“You should look at your dragon’s wound,” Nathaniel told Tanner as he approached, then pointed at Coal, who had scampered as far from Bolt as she could manage while still staying in the camp.
Tanner approached from his tent while pulling up his pants as he strode over as if he’d just put them on. The truth was that the smaller rider had stolen the designer jeans off a guy who was much taller than him, roughly Nathaniel’s height.
Tanner Sage nodded, but the look in his eyes contradicted the reaction. “I’ll let her calm down a little first.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Nathaniel replied. His red hair reflected the bright sunlight overhead, and his freckles were worse since their stint in the desert. He wasn’t faring well out in this terrain. Neither was Tanner, but only because he was still learning to toughen up. As one of the youngest and shortest of the new generation of dragonriders, he got picked on a lot, but he kept getting back up. That was probably why the boss had elected him into the third-ranking leadership position. Nathaniel was the boss’s second in command.
“They’re fighting a lot more lately,” Tanner observed while indicating the other half-dozen demon dragons around the camp that were in different levels of skirmishes. Some simply growled at each other. Others threw warning assaults with their claws. More chased each other through the air.
“They’re demon dragons,” Nathaniel argued. “It’s what they do. They fight. They aren’t pansies like the Dragon Elite who dance around and create peaceful solutions to stupid mortal problems.”
Tanner slid his hands into his too-big jeans pockets and shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. It seems they’re more agitated lately.” His words came on the heels of a roar from one of the dragons fighting for dominance that echoed across the camp. The top three ranks were set, but the other positions were still up for grabs. The dragons knew it and were busy determining a pecking order.
“It’s this damn heat,” Nathaniel complained and slid his long-fingered hand over his forehead to flick away sweat. “It isn’t natural for us, even the dragons that can stand it.”
“Maybe that’s why the Dragon Elite live in the north,” Tanner reasoned, then shook out his short brown hair. Sand flew from it. “I heard their place is in Scotland.”
“Scotland would be too cold for me,” Nathaniel muttered bitterly. The way Tanner or anyone else knew that information was because that’s where these dragons had hatched before escaping the Gullington. They couldn’t go back because they weren’t part of the Dragon Elite anymore, but they also hadn’t wanted to be. However, what the dragons had learned during their time at the Gullington had been invaluable. Now they and their demon dragonriders were that much closer to achieving the boss’s plan.
“A desert is a rotten place too though,” Tanner complained.
Nathaniel couldn’t argue with that. “We’re going to find a new place for the camp. Then we can really take over.”
Tanner laughed but gave the other man a look of uncertainty. “Yeah, I’m looking forward to being on the beach. Surfing and hot chicks in bikinis.”
“There won’t be any chicks once we clear the land,” Nathaniel shot back. “Only demon dragons and us in our new territory. That’s the way the boss is setting it up.”
Tanner managed a grin, but the younger man was obviously intimidated by the second in command. “Yeah, it’s a good plan. I think it will work. Then imagine how much we’ll rule.”
Nathaniel shook his head. “I’m going to rule. The boss will definitely rule, but unless you get a different pair of pants, then no one will take you seriously.”
“I like these jeans,” Tanner complained and glanced down at the stone-washed pants that were rolled up three times at the ankles.
“Yeah, they’re all right, but next time take them off a guy your size,” Nathaniel advised, then popped up the collar of the shirt he’d taken from the mortal’s house they raided the day before. He looked forward to the day when he didn’t have to do his own thieving. Once everything was in place, that would be the way. First, they had to secure a new home base, and that would involve a little more strong-arming…well, a lot more.
Once the elves had all been pushed out of their land though, it would all be worth the effort.
Chapter Two
“Hiker, would you please pass the jam?” Ainsley pointed at the other side of the dining table in the Castle’s hall.
He nodded while still chewing his toast with crumbs in his beard, then picked up the bowl of strawberry preserves and handed it over.
“Here you are.” Hiker kept his chin low as his eyes briefly whisked up to meet Ainsley’s, and a thousand seemingly hidden emotions fleeted to the surface.
She blushed and took the bowl. “Why, thank you.”
“Dearest Wilder,” Evan began in a stuffy voice. “Will you please do me the favor of passing me the beans? I will be forever grateful to you and endlessly in your debt.”
Wilder batted his eyelashes at the other rider and hazarded a crooked smile. “Of course, and the pleasure is all mine.” He picked up the bowl of steaming hot baked beans and gave them to Evan.
Sophia, sitting next to her boyfriend, giggled until she caught the annoyed expression on Hiker’s face. She stuffed a muffin in her mouth to cover her reaction.
Hiker rolled his eyes and glanced at Ainsley. “Nothing has changed since you left. I still lead a bunch of immature few hundred-year-old dragonriders with little hope that they’ll ever grow up.”
“Sir, Ainsley was gone like six whole hours,” Evan hid his laugh.
The sigh that fell out of Hiker’s mouth made his beard flutter. “It was longer than that, and you know it.”
“My apologies.” Evan wiped the corners of his mouth. “Eight hours, sir.”
Mama Jamba pursed her lips and glanced at the other men before settling her gaze on Hiker, where her eyes softened. “I think that what Evan and Wilder are trying to say is that they’re very happy for you.”
Hiker used his toast to scoop up the last bit of runny egg yolk. “Why is that? Because they’re no longer going to be a drain on my patience by acting like ten-year-old boys?”
Mother Nature grinned politely and winked at the Viking while cutting into her pancakes.
Sophia knew that he and Ainsley were unwilling to name what this was yet. It was too new, and the tension between them was still high. They’d all awoken to find Ainsley at the breakfast table early, Hiker beside her, much more prompt for the meal than usual. The two were acting casual enough, but it was obvious that something had changed between them and they weren’t disclosing what it was for the others—not that anyone needed a real explanation.
The guys kept exchanging silly glances and hiding laughs. Mama Jamba seemed mildly irritated by the guys’ immaturity, which could hamper Hiker’s behavior. But it was Quiet who was in the rarest form, audibly whistling from his usual place at the table as he spread clotted cream on a scone.
Sophia found that she couldn’t look at Evan or Wilder without cracking up herself, so she simply gave Mahkah—the only mature dragonrider at the table—a commiserating expression.
“If you two children can focus for a minute,” Hiker began, “I have a few items of business to attend to.”
“You need my kilt size for the wedding, sir?” Evan asked and quickly added, “Ouch! For the love of the angels!” He ducked low and grabbed his leg under the table as his eyes darted
to Mama Jamba beside him.