by Jaxx Steele
Baptiste raised his hand and focused his gaze toward Reynaud. His thoughts formed a picture in Reynaud’s mind as he spoke.
Baptiste walked a few blocks behind them. Reynaud’s arm rested lovingly around Angele’s shoulder, holding him close. Angele’s feathery blond head rested against Reynaud’s chest as they moved leisurely across the streets. Turning onto Decatur Street, they went inside their home, and Baptiste took up a position outside the bedroom window.
Reynaud and Angele entered the room pulling and tearing at each other’s clothes until they were naked. Reynaud lifted Angele’s petite frame and lowered him onto the bed. His large body completely covered Angele’s when he captured Angele’s lips again.
Angele’s hands looked childlike as they glided over the large corded muscles of Reynaud’s back and bottom, gripping and kneading them. Suddenly Reynaud flipped them over reversing their position.
Baptiste adjusted himself against the window to get a better look inside.
Laughing, Angele leaned over to place a quick kiss on Reynaud’s smiling face. He shifted his weight to move forward so Reynaud’s erect cock rested against his ass. Angele gripped the powerful organ and stroked it while he moved his other hand across the well-built dimensions of Reynaud’s chest.
Baptiste twisted his face in revulsion as he watched the lovers indulge in each other’s caresses.
Reynaud lifted Angele’s small frame and lowered him onto his waiting erect penis. When Angele was seated, Reynaud gripped Angele’s protruding shaft and started to pump it as his little lover rode him. They continued in such a fashion until Angele threw his head back, and Baptiste witnessed his seed spilling over onto Reynaud’s hand and stomach. Angele fell forward to lean on Reynaud’s shoulder. Reynaud lifted Angele once again to cradle him in his arms.
Still hidden, Baptiste watched them for a time while they slept. Finally, Angele turned away from Reynaud to hug his pillow, and a small smirk touched Baptiste’s lips. He raised his hand along the window frame and wiggled his fingers. The lock turned slowly with a slight click, and soon the window rose. He entered the room and moved smoothly across the carpet. Standing by the bed, he looked down on the couple with disdain.
Baptiste scooped Angele’s sleeping form into his arms, but when he walked to the door, Angele’s eyes popped open. Baptiste’s own gaze widened at the revelation, but he recovered quickly, clamping his hand down over Angele’s mouth. He closed the door behind him with a small kick and stalked farther away from the bedroom before dropping Angele onto the floor.
Angele looked up at him, fear evident in his big green eyes. Baptiste almost laughed aloud. He advanced and Angele scurried away, tears already falling down his cheeks. His hand gestures were frantic and meager. His mouth moved swiftly as he spoke. Baptiste continued forward, the harsh look on his face unchanged. Angele scrambled to his feet, retreating until his back hit the wall. His hands shook terribly and he tried again to defend himself, but Baptiste raised his own hand, effortlessly blocking Angele’s feeble magic.
Baptiste stood looking down into Angele’s panicked face. His large physique dwarfed Angele’s slight form. Angele shook his head, shrinking down the wall away from Baptiste. He wrapped his hand around Angele’s slender throat, raised him up along the wall to eye level and held him there until his feet stopped kicking.
“His eyes were bulging so much it was easy to keep eye contact,” Baptiste continued aloud, severing the connection to Reynaud’s mind. “The second the light of life left his gaze, the magic in his soul transferred to me. It was such a rush,” Baptiste exclaimed, giving the bars a shake. “I had no more use of him afterward, so I returned him to you,” he added with a dismissive wave, in calmer tones.
Baptiste’s nonchalant attitude horrified Reynaud. Such a deed had never been done intentionally. The forbidden act of taking another’s magic remained the highest undocumented law. Everyone generally assumed no one would ever do such a cruel, cold-blooded and evil thing to another Creolyte. The transfer itself had been discovered by accident many years ago when a Creolyte woman embraced her dying lover. He held her gaze, whispering his love and, with his final breath, his magic had transferred to her.
Reynaud closed his eyes tight, pushing away the dreadful feelings Baptiste’s words created inside him. But he could not remove the scene forced into his mind. He saw Baptiste carrying his beloved Angele’s lifeless body back into the bedroom, returning him to Reynaud’s side as clearly as if it were happening at that moment. Reynaud’s heart pounded crazily and tears welled behind his lids. He took a deep breath and swallowed his pain before opening his eyes. The smug grin on Baptiste’s face inflamed Reynaud’s anger.
“You have shown me your treachery, and I am about to pay the price for it, Baptiste. Now tell me why. Why would you kill Angele if he posed no threat to you?” Reynaud asked.
Baptiste’s smirk turned into a sinister smile. “Angele’s death was essential to my plan, my good man.”
Reynaud’s confusion continued.
“You have held your station long enough, Reynaud Leduc.” Baptiste chuckled. “It was only because you caught Madame Cousteau’s eye as a child that you became her favorite. Her favor elevated you to your post. I think it is time someone else had it… Namely me.”
Reynaud scoffed. “That’s what this is about? Jealousy?”
“I am not jealous,” Baptiste snapped then quickly cleared his throat. “This is not about jealousy, Reynaud,” he amended in a calmer tone. “This is about due process. It is simply my time. My magic is strong, but was never as strong as yours. However, with Angele’s magic added to my own, it’s finally as powerful. They will give me a mate and I will finally have the prestige I deserve.”
“What you did was unspeakably heinous. Why attack an innocent? If you wanted to take my place, why not just come after me?” he asked incredulously.
“Oh no, Reynaud. It was not that simple,” Baptiste explained, shifting his position against the bars. “You are Madame Cousteau’s favorite…well, you were, anyway. I could not openly attack you without reprimand. I had to make it so even she could not help you.” He paused, pressing his face between the thin iron poles. “I had to destroy you,” he emphasized, his voice dripping with ice.
Abruptly Baptiste jerked his head to look over his shoulder. The sneer on his face had disappeared when he turned back to Reynaud. In its place was an almost pleasant smile.
“I can hear your welcoming committee coming, Reynaud. Good luck in your next life as a beast,” he said lightly.
Baptiste left Reynaud sitting on the bench filled with bewilderment and anger. He leaned his head back against the wall and listened. The clumping of the guard’s boots came closer, and Baptiste’s satisfied laughter moved farther away.
A man appeared before the cell. “The council is ready, Reynaud.”
Reynaud rose and strode to the door with his hands before him. The magical binding took place, pressing his wrists together and suppressing his powers as soon as he stepped out of the confined space. The guards returned him to the room where the elders sat, but no one else remained.
Once again, Madame Cousteau stood to address him. “We wish you luck, Reynaud, and hope you find love with a human so you may someday return to your Creolyte body.”
Reynaud thought for a moment about telling them what Baptiste had confessed, but decided against it. He had no proof to exonerate himself and the sentence would be carried out anyway. Accepting his punishment, Reynaud kept his head high and held his tongue. The other elders joined Madame Cousteau to form a circle around him. They muttered the incantation in unison. He closed his eyes, the change sweeping over his body, and vowed to be more diligent in his mission in the future.
Chapter One
The sun had barely crested the horizon when Cameron Gamble unlocked the doors to his café. The morning heat had already risen in the air as the sky brightened. Removing the countdown sign from the window, he replaced it with a larger, more flamboyantl
y decorated one indicating the grand opening for the next day. He darted outside to make sure the announcement looked straight and even, then went back indoors.
Cameron stood in the center of the room glancing around. The last month had been exhausting but exciting. It took weeks of dragging chairs and pushing tables around before he’d been satisfied with the dining room’s set-up. He spent most days hanging decorations until they were just right. The staff arrived nearly a month ago to help stock inventory, put away supplies, make the kitchen workable and do other tedious jobs necessary for opening a business. He smiled at their completed work.
“This is really going to happen… finally,” he murmured softly.
Something moving in his peripheral vision forced him to turn his head. A large brown dog stood beside him panting and wagging its tail. Startled, Cameron hopped to his right. Looking up, he realized he had left the door open. He blew out a frustrated breath and shook his head. Even after three years, he was still jumpy.
After a few calming breaths, he looked down at the dog. Cameron had seen the animal before hanging around the building while he came and went running errands, but this was the first time it had ever approached him. The dog stopped panting, moved closer to him then sat. Cameron took a step back. The dog lay down and scooted forward on his belly. Cameron stared at the canine. The dog rolled over onto its back and kicked at him playfully.
“Okay, so, I guess you’re not going to hurt me, despite how big and burly you are, huh?” Cautiously, he knelt and offered his hand. “Come here, boy. I won’t hurt you either.”
The dog rose to his feet and padded closer, his muzzle extended. He sniffed Cameron’s hand, licked it then mowed him over, climbing up Cameron’s body to lick his face.
“Whoa! Hey, you are a big boy.” Cameron laughed. He rolled across the floor, letting his new friend lick him playfully. “Okay, okay, calm down.” He sat on the floor with his legs crossed then patted his lap. The dog answered his call, laying his large self beside him, putting his head on Cameron’s lap.
“You’re the biggest dog I have ever seen,” he murmured. He glided his hand over the soft, brown fur covering the dog’s muscular limbs. “So, where is your home, big guy? Do you have a family?”
The dog blinked at him.
“Big, pretty pooch like you has got to have people around who love you. You seem really smart and well fed surely someone is taking care of you.” He stroked the animal’s neck and chest affectionately. Suddenly he stopped his hand and gazed around the room thoughtfully. “This was your home, wasn’t it, boy? The realtor did say this place used to be one of those huge houses the bank bought and renovated.”
The animal whined softly and nuzzled Cameron’s side.
“You’re all alone, too, aren’t you?” Cameron asked rubbing behind his ear. “Well, I think this place is big enough for the two of us. I’ll tell you what, if you promise not to eat me, you can stay,” Cameron told him in a humorous tone. “Would you like that, boy? Would you like to be my dog?” he asked happily.
The animal stood up and barked twice before licking Cameron’s face several times.
“Well, I’ll take that as a yes. You’ll find there are many perks to having a master that owns a bistro,” Cameron said, getting to his feet. “I guess I need to come up with a name for you. I don’t know if you’ll answer to it, but I have to call you something.” He knitted his brows in thought. “Your fur is the same color as this caramel glaze I make,” he muttered almost to himself. “How about I just call you Caramel?”
The canine sat and froze. No barking, wagging or any other movements.
Cameron burst into laughter. The dog’s mannerisms were almost humanlike. He was sure the animal didn’t like his suggestion. “Okay, no. How about we shorten it to just Mel?”
The dog barked and his tail started moving again.
“Well I’m glad we got that settled. Let’s go, Mel. The outdoor market should be opened now.”
Cameron and his new friend took the short walk down Decatur Street to the Moonwalk. The warm breeze from the Mississippi landed on Cameron’s face, pushing his bangs off his forehead. He smiled and breathed it in. Only two years had passed since he arrived in New Orleans, but it hadn’t taken him long to fall in love with the atmosphere, the people and the food. Cameron whistled happily, swinging his wicker basket as he moved along the Moonwalk from vendor to vendor, carefully looking over their goods. He came ready to start over. With New Orleans still rebuilding after Katrina, it turned out to be the perfect place for him to do exactly that. Finally, after years of looking over his shoulder, he had begun to exhale.
“Hey, Cameron, how are you today?” someone yelled.
Cameron smiled and walked toward the familiar voice. “Hi, Mr Dubois. I’m great, how are you?”
“I’m just fine, my boy. I see you’re up with the sun.”
“Oh, yes. You can get the best everyone has if you’re here first to choose it.”
Mr Dubois chuckled. “I knew you would be by today so I put some basil, oregano and parsley aside for you.” He reached behind him and pulled out a small paper bag.
“Thanks, Mr Dubois,” he said excitedly. “I’ll make something extra special with these and bring you some,” he promised, adding the contents to his basket.
Mr Dubois laughed cheerfully. “That would be wonderful, Cameron. When do you open officially?”
“Tomorrow,” he said, smiling wide.
“Excellent. I will bring the wife by for dinner one night next week. So, who is your friend?”
Cameron tilted his head in confusion then he turned to where Mr Dubois nodded. “Oh! Well, I think he’s a stray. I’m guessing I took over his home when I brought the place on St Louis for my bistro. He’s been always hanging around a lot so we’ve decided to be roommates.”
Mr Dubois inspected the animal closely. “Well, he doesn’t look like he’s missed too many meals. He’s very healthy looking for a stray, isn’t he? Have you named him?”
“I’ve decided to call him Mel. I just hope he answers when I try to call him,” Cameron said with a chuckle.
Mr Dubois nodded in agreement. “He seems well trained. He has been sitting still while you have been talking to me. Does he do any tricks?”
Cameron shrugged. “I have no idea.”
Mr Dubois reached behind his table again and pulled out a half-eaten sandwich. “Here, boy. Can you sit up or beg?” Mr Dubois dangled the sandwich before the dog.
Mel rose to his hind legs and hopped back and forth before returning to his seated position.
“Good boy.” Mr Dubois laughed then tossed the sandwich.
Mel caught and gobbled it up quickly.
Laughing, Cameron rubbed the dog’s head. “Wow. That was impressive, Mel.”
“You’ve got yourself a good dog there, Cameron. He likes you. Dogs are very loyal creatures, you know. If you take care of him, he’ll take care of you,” Mr Dubois told him, pointing a wrinkled finger. “Now, go.” He added a dismissive wave. “Mrs Anthony has something for you, too.”
Cameron handed the man some money and turned, lifting his hand in farewell. “Thanks, Mr Dubois. Come on, Mel.”
Mel followed Cameron dutifully over to Mrs Anthony’s cart where Cameron picked up fresh mint leaves, strawberries and peaches. He collected other items from vendors around the marketplace as it started to fill with people. By late morning, he had returned to his bistro twice to drop off his goods.
“All my fresh food will be delivered later today for our grand opening tomorrow, Mel,” he said, putting away the contents of the first bag. “I don’t mind freezing things or using frozen vegetables, but if you can get your veggies and herbs from the gardeners, I recommend it. They make your food taste so much better.”
He finished unloading another tote. Suddenly he stopped. Cameron blew out a breath and shook his head.
“Oh, my God. Am I seriously giving cooking tips to a dog?” He wiped his hand down his face and s
ighed. “Cam, my boy, you have officially crossed over into pitifulness.” He looked down at Mel. “Well, come on. It’s time for me to take a nap. It’s going to be a long day.”
Cameron walked to the back of the kitchen with Mel trotting behind him. He unlocked a white, wooden door that stood out among all of the stainless steel appliances, and entered a long, dark hallway. The corridor opened up into a small atrium in the backyard, the area flooded with sunlight. Cameron grabbed the doorknob leading out to the yard and shook it hard. Satisfied it wouldn’t open, he continued down the narrow pathway.
The passage led to another door, beyond that was a small one bedroom duplex attached to the building. Cameron passed through the tiny living room and kitchen to a staircase leading to his bedroom. Sitting on his bed, he changed the alarm setting on his clock then returned it to his nightstand. With an exaggerated stretch, he pulled the blanket up to cover the sheets and pillow.
“Come on up here, boy,” Cameron said, patting the bed. “No point in sleeping on the floor. This bed is big enough for the both of us. I’ll give you a bath later.”
* * * *
Cameron stood at the window looking out into the rain. His forehead and palm lay against the cold glass as the water ran down the other side in long streaks mimicking his tears.
“Hey, baby, there you are.”
Cameron couldn’t help but cringe as he squeezed his eyes tight at the sound of the masculine voice behind him. Once upon a time, those rich deep tones were silky and reassuring to his ears. Now they sent a chill slithering up his spine, making his skin crawl every time he heard them. Strong arms slipped around his waist moments later and a large body aligned itself with his. The distinctive feel of a hard cock pressed into Cameron’s ass, but the feeling didn’t excite him at all.
“Why didn’t you say something when you left the room?”
The smell of alcohol wafted around Cameron’s head to his face and dread welled inside him.