Reynaud's Redemption

by Jaxx Steele

  Table of Contents

  Legal Page

  Title Page

  Book Description

  Dedication

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  New Excerpt

  About the Author

  Publisher Page

  A Totally Bound Publication

  Reynaud’s Redemption

  ISBN # 978-1-78430-188-0

  ©Copyright Jaxx Steele 2014

  Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright August 2014

  Edited by Faith Bicknell-Brown

  Totally Bound Publishing

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Totally Bound Publishing.

  Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Totally Bound Publishing. Unauthorized or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

  The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

  Published in 2014 by Totally Bound Publishing, Newland House, The Point, Weaver Road, Lincoln, LN6 3QN

  Warning:

  This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Totally Sizzling and a Sexometer of 1.

  REYNAUD’S REDEMPTION

  Jaxx Steele

  Will the final confrontation with his past destroy everything Reynaud has in his present, preventing him from having a future with Cam?

  Murder, greed and jealousy have taken everything from Reynaud. His lover, his high position and his way of life are all gone in the blink of an eye. Condemned for a crime he did not commit, Reynaud must suffer the worst punishment his people can bestow. Only the love of a mentor saves him from destruction, giving him a second chance at life.

  After more than one hundred years, he finally meets Cameron. Cam’s love sets him free and helps him put his life back on track, but something still nags in the back of Reynaud’s mind. He hopes going ‘home’ will ease his weariness, but it only raises more questions. Things have changed during his absence. Friends have lost their places, and enemies have gained undeserved power.

  Will the final confrontation with his past destroy everything Reynaud has in his present, preventing him from a future with Cam? Will the journey itself cost him Cameron and everything they have built together?

  Dedication

  Dedicated to everyone who had to reconcile things in their past in order to have a better future.

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Times-Picayune: The Times Picayune Publishing Corporation

  Google: Google Inc.

  Prologue

  Two security personnel walked Reynaud Leduc down a long, barely lit corridor. When they neared an unlit torch on the wall, flames burst to life, lighting their way. Reynaud stood a full head over his escorts and possessed a bigger build. His strength could overpower the two smaller men, but his demeanor indicated otherwise. His movements were slow and weary, his head hanging low and his hands dangling as though bound. He didn’t struggle at all when the guards pushed him along.

  When they entered a large room, Reynaud fought the urge to look up to see how many of his brethren had come to witness his punishment. From the loud murmurs, he had no doubt the room was filled to capacity. Their burning stares raised the hairs on his skin as he continued forward. Finally, the guards stopped him in the center of a small circle made of stones then pushed Reynaud to his knees.

  The room went quiet except for the soft shuffle of moving feet. Reynaud lifted his eyes to see the long table of elders a few feet away from him. A woman left the center seat and walked toward him. She stopped in front of him and put her hands behind her back. “I am sorry it has come to this, Reynaud, but I— We,” she quickly amended, indicating the others at the table with a wave of her hand, “have no choice.”

  “Madame Cousteau—” Reynaud began.

  She sharply cut him off. “Silence. The time for explanations has passed. I must follow the evidence, and the evidence says you were negligent in your task. Your lover is dead. His magic was not up to par to protect himself and you were not there to defend him. The fact of the matter is, he was yours to teach and look after and you failed to do so,” she added with a hint of sadness.

  Reynaud squeezed his eyes shut. Her comment filled him with anguish. His chest ached from his loss. He shook his head in disbelief at the reality of her words.

  How could this have happened? How could somebody come into our home without my knowledge and kill my sweet little Angele?

  Reynaud had lost count of how many times he had asked them. He searched his mind again, but for the life of him, he could not recall anything new. His last memories were of having lunch with Angele. They had toasted their love for each other with a glass of white wine, and the next thing he knew, he’d awoken in bed with Angele beside him, his lover’s body lifeless and his magic gone too. Reynaud didn’t even know how they had gotten back to their house.

  “Please, Madame Cousteau, I could find out what happened if I had a little more time.” His voice cracked with emotion.

  Madame Cousteau looked away to face the two men and two women sitting at the table. The stern looks on their faces didn’t change. With a quick look over her shoulder to Reynaud, Madame Cousteau shook her head then returned to the empty chair among the others.

  She rested her arms on the desk before she addressed him again. “Reynaud, we don’t have many Treetars among our people. The gift to heal is very rare,” she explained. “When your magic manifested, it was so strong your station was easy to ascertain. The question becomes—how can we allow you to continue training others to protect and heal when you cannot carry out that task yourself? We would be negligent to have you continue in your post. You must understand our position in this matter,” she concluded dejectedly.

  He opened his mouth to protest her accusation, but quickly closed it with a sigh of defeat. She was right. Had he been aware, he could have healed Angele before his magic was lost. Together they could have defeated any foe, but he wasn’t. Somehow he’d slept through what happened, and Angele was gone because of it.

  “Yes, Madame Cousteau. I understand and accept any punishment you and the council feel is needed,” he said in a soft, sad voice.

  Madame Cousteau closed her eyes to block out the torment Reynaud’s voice brought her. She raised her arms wide with her palms toward the ceiling and reached out to the minds of the council members.

  “I find myself hesitant to reprimand Reynaud as the law suggests. That law is in place for the worst of crimes.”

  “Yes, Delphine, but this is one of those crimes.”

  Anger rose within Madame Cousteau at Isabella’s words. She took a cleansing breath to keep her emotions out of her thoughts before continuing.

  “Since Reynaud has had his positi
on, he has always been nothing short of perfection at his duties. With his lovers, he was openly affectionate, loving and protective. To strip him of his magic seems harsh under those circumstances.”

  “I am in agreement as well, but we cannot ignore the fact young Angele Truneaux is dead,” the man to her left commented. “That fact proves carelessness on Reynaud’s part. If he goes unpunished, there will be uproar within the community. Everyone will start to challenge our laws. Only anarchy can follow such a path. We Creolytes have a reputation to uphold, Delphine. Since the very first Creoles were born with magic in their souls, our people have been separate from regular humans. We are above such behavior,” he proudly reminded her.

  “I know, François. I do believe Reynaud should be punished, but—”

  “This is ridiculous, Delphine. François speaks the truth,” the woman on the other side of François interjected the abrupt thought. “We are not common humans. We cannot just disregard the law when it does not suit us. You simply cannot protect Reynaud because he is one your favorites.”

  Marguerite’s thought struck Madame Cousteau’s mind so severely her eyes almost snapped open.

  “If the evidence says he is guilty, then he is guilty,” Marguerite added with finality.

  Madame Cousteau spoke slowly as she addressed the woman’s concerns.

  “That is not my intention, Marguerite. I cannot say the love I have for Reynaud does not affect me at this time of trouble for him, but I assure you it does not cloud my judgment. I know my duty toward this board and our people. All I am saying is something does not seem right. I do not think sentencing should be so strict when I find it difficult to believe Reynaud is capable of such a crime regardless of the evidence that has been presented.”

  “I am inclined to agree with Delphine,” Isabella expressed. “This is completely out of character for Reynaud. I, too, am not completely convinced someone else has not done this to discredit him. Unfortunately there is great jealousy within our society and the possibility is not out of the realm of likelihood.”

  “What are you suggesting, Isabella?” Madame Cousteau questioned.

  “I’m just saying I think it is conceivable someone else may be involved, that there may be something else to this. Someone like Reynaud does not just snap and become negligent in his duties after years of exemplary behavior and service to his people. It is not impossible to believe someone of his status could be targeted. It would not be the first time it has happened,” she reminded them.

  “Marguerite has been clear on her position. What is your final word, François?”

  “I find myself agreeing with Marguerite, Delphine,” he answered. “The evidence points to Reynaud, and we, as the head council, must adhere to what we know, not what we think, regardless of who the perpetrator is.”

  Madame Cousteau sensed a hint of regret when his mind touched hers. Nodding, she sent her question out again.

  “Tomas, you have been quiet during this hearing,” she addressed the man between her and Isabella. “What say you on Reynaud Leduc’s position?”

  Tomas spoke without hesitation. “I find myself dragging my feet to discipline Reynaud so harshly for something I, too, do not think he could have done.”

  “We seem to have a split decision leaving me with the deciding vote. Counting my own vote, I will speak for the council and say Reynaud Leduc shall not be stripped of his magic,” Madame Cousteau said, relief filling her thoughts.

  “Reynaud must be punished,” Marguerite insisted.

  “She is correct, Delphine. The committee must remain consistent,” François added.

  “I agree and I am open to suggestions for an alternative punishment,” Madame Cousteau countered.

  “I have a suggestion,” Isabella interjected gently.

  Madame Cousteau listened intently to the words directed only to her and nodded. She lowered her hands and opened her eyes.

  “Come to your feet, Reynaud Leduc,” Madame Cousteau announced.

  Reynaud stood, but his head remained bowed.

  “The council has made its decision. We have decided you are to be punished for the crime of which you have been accused. Namely, failure to protect your lover, resulting in his death. As you know, this crime is punishable by stripping the accused of his or her magic, leaving them to live the rest of their life as a human.”

  Madame Cousteau’s declaration struck a chord in the audience. A sharp intake of air echoed throughout the room, followed by low muttering. Reynaud was just as stunned as the other citizens. Madame Cousteau’s words left him weak in the knees.

  Every Creolyte there understood what that meant. Originally from the Caribbean Islands, their people settled in New Orleans many years ago. Those first comers were humans having no magic at all. During hard times, they rekindled old skills of practical magic and enchantments used in their homeland to help them make it through.

  Over time, their bodies adapted and absorbed the magic creating the first generation of children born with the talent embedded in them becoming the first Creolytes. A human could have the ability taken away without any harm to them, because it was a learned skill, but for a Creolyte, whose magic was a part of their soul, removing it was a fate, they felt, worse than death.

  “Although you’ve failed in your job, we are not totally convinced you were alone in this.”

  Madame Cousteau’s voice brought him back to reality.

  “Therefore, it is the decision of this council that your present form be altered. We have decided to see if you can handle your obligations without the comforts of your magic. In this new form you will have to find a mate that will trust you with his or her life.”

  This time an appalled sound moved through the room like a wave. Reynaud was sure the noise appropriately matched his expression.

  “The magic you will maintain will be minimal,” Madame Cousteau added. “It will be enough for comprehension in your transformed state, but you will not be able to communicate except within the confines of said form. You will be allowed to remember what has transpired here, the passage of time, who you are and the task at hand.”

  Reynaud was speechless. His knees finally buckled. He fell forward, palms on the floor trying to steady himself as a wave of nausea came over him.

  “Madame, I— How can—?”

  Madame Cousteau held up her hand. “Humans do it all the time, Reynaud,” she mentioned softly. “I have no doubt you will find a way. If you are successful, your powers will be restored to you. The council will confer on the matter and let you know what form we feel is appropriate.”

  Reynaud stared blankly. The guards lifted him from the floor, directed by her dismissing wave. The distress inside him rose like a dense fog around his consciousness. His legs seemed as heavy as lead when the security personnel all but dragged him down the hall. They returned him to the detention cell and shoved him inside. The invisible bindings on his wrists instantly released, and he stumbled forward, the gate slamming shut behind him. Reynaud felt numb as he sat on the bench with his face buried in his hands. When he could no longer hear the footfalls of the departing men, he allowed the tears to fall.

  “I must say I am a little disappointed at the elder’s decision, Reynaud.”

  He jumped. The confusion lifted around his mind at the familiarity of the voice. He dropped his hands to view his visitor and confirmed his suspicions.

  “Baptiste.”

  “I should have known your punishment would not be the one on the books, but I am satisfied to know you will be gone all the same.”

  Reynaud frowned. He was not surprised by Baptiste’s gloating or distain. They had been rivals for years. Reynaud rolled his eyes and turned away from him.

  “It wasn’t hard to do, you know.”

  Something in his tone sent a chill down Reynaud’s back. He raised a brow to Baptiste.

  Baptiste gripped the bars and pressed his face between them.

  “You and Angele were so predictable,” he said with a
n impish grin. “Every Monday, lunch at Vincente’s on St Charles, Wednesday was dinner at Maximo’s Ristorante and, of course, breakfast at Lucia’s on Saturday,” he added with a dramatic flip of his hand.

  Reynaud furrowed his brows. “What—? I don’t—”

  A soft chuckle escaped Baptiste when he looked at Reynaud. “The great Reynaud Leduc,” he announced with the same theatrics as before. His voice lowered, softer and more sinister when he spoke again. “It was easier than I expected to dispense of you who are always so trusting. It just never occurred to you that anyone would be after you, did it? But then, why would it? Everyone just loves Reynaud Leduc,” he said in a mocking tone, rolling his eyes.

  Though Reynaud was accustomed to Baptiste’s ire toward him, this mocking smugness made him uneasy. He closed his eyes as he tried to figure out what secret the man could be holding.

  “All I had to do was arrive early at your little rendezvous spot, intercept your waiter and pour my potion into your drink before he brought it to you.”

  Reynaud’s popped his eyelids open and his heart raced as he gripped the edge of the bench. “What are you saying, Baptiste?”

  “The potion was just a simple aphrodisiac,” Baptiste confided with an arrogant shrug. “It was nothing out of the ordinary, really. I did enhance it a bit so you couldn’t stop pawing, touching and kissing each other.” A disgusted look crossed his face, matching his tone. “I followed you home and waited patiently for you to finish your disgusting mating ritual. When you finally fell asleep and your magic was in its restoring stage, I killed Angele,” he admitted calmly.

  Reynaud’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

  “Oh yes, it hardly took any effort at all on my part,” he said matter-of-factly.