Reynaud's Redemption, стр. 27
“Perhaps Maxwell is right. I have to get a hold of this power,” he muttered.
Nodding and resolving the thought to himself, Baptiste splashed cold water on his face until he felt better. His eyes still appeared more red than brown when he inspected them again, but at least they no longer glowed.
Baptiste left the rest room and went to his desk. After pulling a pair of dark sunglasses from his top drawer, he then left his office. Reggie held the door open for him when he exited the building. He slipped into the back seat and realized someone else was in the car.
“Maxwell, what are you doing here?” he said with slight annoyance.
“I’m just making sure you get home.”
“I don’t need a nanny.”
“My primary purpose is to ensure all your needs are met. That is what I’m going to do,” he explained as the car jerked forward.
Baptiste had struggled to wield his magic all morning. The more he concentrated on his natural gift, the more the fire moved to block his call to it. Drained from his efforts, he leaned back against the seat.
“Very well, Maxwell.”
Baptiste closed his eyes with a sigh. Though he lived a good thirty-minute drive away from his job, it seemed like mere seconds had passed when Maxwell tapped his shoulder. He let Maxwell lead him into his home and direct him into his chair in the den. Maxwell left Baptiste alone, but returned quickly with a tall glass.
“What’s this?” he asked, accepting the drink.
“Something to help you relax.”
Baptiste looked into the cup. The beverage was chilled and smelled like the lemonade iced tea mixture he liked. He drank it down without further question, welcoming the coolness it gave his throat. Maxwell took the empty glass from him. More relaxed already, Baptiste let his eyes close.
* * * *
“You sent for me, Madame Cousteau?”
“Yes, Baptiste. Please, close the door and have a seat.”
Baptiste took the chair in front of her desk and crossed his legs.
Madame Cousteau pushed away the paper she’d been writing on. “I understand that you have petitioned for Reynaud Leduc’s prior position.”
“Yes, Madame, I have.”
“Why?”
“I am an earth magic healer with just as much training as Reynaud. My skill is equal to his. I am ready for the position,” he told her with a small smile.
“I see. Your application for such a position will not be honored.”
Baptiste tensed, but he was conscious to keep his face from changing.
“Madame, I don’t under—”
“I don’t see the point of beating about the bush. You are unworthy of this post.”
Baptiste snapped his mouth shut, his eyes widening.
“May I ask why you think that?”
“I know how you conspired to discredit Reynaud Leduc. Of course, I have no proof, but I will not have a dishonorable Creolyte in my midst training others. Thus, the answer is no. I will not be giving you the job.”
“You would dismiss family so easily? Without just cause? On a guess?” he asked.
“A guess?” she shot back with a raised eyebrow. “Oh no, Baptiste St John. It is true that I have no evidence to condemn you for your crime, but I know you are guilty nonetheless.”
Baptiste stared at her. His breathing became labored as she continued her explanation.
“However, I must keep the knowledge of your treachery to myself. Rest assured it is not our shared bloodlines that keep me quiet, but the lack of material evidence to punish you for your offense.”
Baptiste swallowed his retort. Now was the time to cultivate his patience. Retribution would ensue in due time.
“Very well, Madame Cousteau,” he said with a forced grin. “Thank you for your time and consideration,” Baptiste said, leaving her office.
It took all his restraint not to slam the door behind him. He stomped down the hall, putting his plan in action to get back at Madame Cousteau and the other elders who obviously supported her decision.
* * * *
Baptiste’s eyes popped open. Fury raced through his system. He looked around to find himself still in his den. The sun had set and the room was dark. His anger remained soaring through his veins like a river as his dream faded. He pulled his phone from his pocket.
“Reggie, bring the car around. We go to see Madame Cousteau.”
Chapter Nine
As the sky darkened, Reynaud saw the stately manor rising in the distance on the Mississippi River and grinned to himself. Quickening his step, he continued toward it. Though he was tired and hungry it didn’t dampen the excitement that raced through his senses. After so long, he would see Madame Cousteau very soon.
“Good evening, sir. How may I help you?” a gentleman wearing a black suit asked when the door opened.
“Ah, good evening. I’ve come to visit with Madame Cousteau, please,” Reynaud said with a smile.
“I’m sorry, sir, there is no one here by that name. Have a good day.”
A forced smile appeared across the doorman’s face before he promptly shut the door.
Reynaud’s jaw dropped as he stared at the door, blinking wildly. His confusion was short-lived, taken over by anger. He knew Madame Cousteau was there. Her call had brought him directly to the door. Why would this guy tell him otherwise?
He pounded on the door then paused, waiting for the butler to return, but another man opened the door instead.
“How can I help you, sir?” he asked.
Reynaud scrutinized the man. He was no butler. His dark pinstriped suit, crisp white shirt, and expensive-looking hat seemed best for a day at the office. The man’s physique and mannerisms were those of a person one would most likely see guarding a door rather