Page 2 of The Timeless Vigilante

“This ends tonight,” Vinny said, his voice clear and loud, his hand flexing next to his gun on his hip.

Maurice laughed, showing a row of silver teeth. “Where do you want to be buried?”

Vinny’s eyes flicked up when the streetlamp over them sputtered, making him nearly pull his gun prematurely. That wasn’t the rule, though. Vinny was many despicable things, but he played by the rules. He wouldn’t pull his gun until the countdown.

“We agree that whoever wins this, rules the streets of Los Angeles. Their gang members show the winner allegiance, right?” Vinny asked, looking around at the other men surrounding the man before him.

Another laugh from Maurice. “Yeah, your gang is about to work for me, being my footstools.”

Tired of Maurice’s usual smack talking and ready to put a cap in this guy once and for all, Vinny was ready to call for the countdown. Before he could, the streetlamp flickered overhead. Went out completely, raining sparks down on the gangs below, like there had been an electrical fire.

Something dropped down from the sky between Vinny and Maurice. A crouched figure stood. In the dark, Vinny could only make out the outline of a small person before they sprang into action. Before anyone could react, before anyone could fire, before the shouts rang out, a boot whacked Vinny hard across the face.

He hit the pavement with a thud, never remembering being assaulted so hard and abruptly. Rolling to the side, he watched a slender, hooded figure in black knock out Maurice, kicking him hard across the face. Behind him, Vinny’s men fled, their footsteps sounding like true betrayal to him.

One of the gang members rushed forward, but the strange intruder spun around, thrusting their boot into his stomach, knocking him into the men behind them. They fell like dominos. Picking up a trashcan, the invader threw it down on the cluster of tangled men on the pavement.

In a blur, the assailant defended themself from the last man standing, one who had been hiding to the side. Easily, the hooded figure wrapped their arms around the man’s neck, twisted forward and threw him over their back, hard to the concrete, knocking them out at once.

Vinny made to stand, but a boot pushed him down again, pressing hard into his back.

“If you want to kill each other, then do it,” the voice of a woman said. “But don’t do it where innocent people can get hurt. If this happens again, then next time, I won’t leave any of you alive. Got it?”

With his face pressed hard into the smelly pavement, Vinny could only manage a grunt that he hoped sounded like yes.

The woman picked up her foot, stepping back into the shadows. Vinny lifted up, catching sight of the stranger who had taken down five men at once and scared away the cowards he called gang members. She was beautiful in the ambient light from the neighboring streets, her hood having fallen back to reveal a long blonde braid over her shoulder. She was dressed like straight out of the medieval era in an armored top laced up in the front and a half skirt and boots. Her porcelain skin made her seem fragile, although the way she’d kicked all their asses contradicted that observation.

“Who are you?” Vinny asked through a mouthful of blood, knowing that he’d never seen anyone like this before. “W-W-What are you?”

“I’m Gen Beaufont,” the woman said, glaring down at him. “I’m a medieval warrior, meant to fix this world.”

And just as fast as the vigilante had appeared, she vanished, leaving no trace and all who had witnessed her prowess, cowering in fear.

CHAPTER THREE

THE PSYCHIC DRAGON

Beaufont Residence, West Hollywood, California, United States

Genevieve Beaufont hadn’t gone by that name since she left 1426 London, England. That had only been a few weeks ago, but still the woman she used to be felt a world away. Gen had no idea when she followed two women through a portal that she’d traversed six hundred years into the future. She had no idea the women were her relatives from modern-day Los Angeles. She had no idea where Los Angeles was or that there was another continent on the other side of the world. And the list of things that Gen didn’t know had only gotten longer since being dropped and stuck in the twenty-first century.

Gen Beaufont could never go home. Her curiosity had always gotten her in trouble. This time, it had gotten her stranded in a brand-new era. Thankfully, the universe hadn’t totally left her abandoned. For one, she had her modern-day family—the Beaufonts. They were leaders in the House of Fourteen, comprised of the most powerful magicians in the world, which ironically was the magical governing agency that Gen and her father, William, had founded. They also held many other roles as magicians in the present time, like leaders of the dragonriders.

That was the other part of Gen’s life that didn’t suck. She had her dragon egg, her most prized object that she stole in the 1400s and buried. She’d found the dragon’s egg in the forest—the animal within the shell speaking to her in her mind. He’d told her that he was the first dragon egg ever spawned. Not knowing what a dragon was, Gen was very confused. Then he told her, telepathically, that she had to hide him because the world wasn’t ready for a female dragonrider and she was meant for him.

Afraid of trusting a disembodied voice in her head, but also of losing him, Gen did as she was told. And so, the egg stayed buried in London until last week, when the dragon called to her and she dug him up. A lot had changed in Gen’s life, except for one thing—her dragon was still hiding away in his shell, unwilling to hatch even now.

Gen strode into the living room of the condominium that belonged to her relatives from the future, a pair of siblings, Clark and Liv Beaufont. They were her relatives, twenty-something generations in the future.

And their residence? Well, it looked like a shiny white box with angular surfaces and hardly a lick of color anywhere. But plastered across the walls of the dining room was the family motto that Gen’s father William had coined and which had been passed down through the years. The words read: Familia Est Sempiternum. And that simple phrase meant: Family is forever.

Gen paused in front of the dining room table. She lowered her chin and regarded the shimmering, huge dragon egg with slight annoyance.

“So, you were right,” she said out loud, although that wasn’t necessary since he spoke in her head. It just made her feel a little less crazy if she was speaking rather than having a back and forth with a dragon, telepathically.

Of course I was right, the dragon said in his deep voice in Gen’s head. I clearly heard the gang members due to their ill will and violent intent toward each other. Those kinds of emotions broadcast thoughts louder than anything else.

“Right,” Gen said, having learned after digging up her dragon’s egg that he couldn’t just hear her thoughts, but those of others, although not consistently. The dragon apparently was also psychic and also promised to have other abilities that he would one day reveal to her.

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