Under the Bayou Moon

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  Published By: Taliesin Publishing, LLC,

  400 Gilead Road, #1617, Huntersville, NC 28070

  www.taliesinpublishing.com

  Under the Bayou Moon

  Copyright © 2014 by Gynger Fyre

  Digital Release: June 2014

  ISBN: 978-1-62916-040-5

  Cover Artist: James Caldwell

  Smashwords Edition

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Table Of Contents

  Dedication

  Author Note

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Under the Bayou Moon by Gynger Fyre

  Jacques Bertrand is the sovereign leader of the biggest gator congregation in Louisiana. As his thirtieth bayou moon cycle approaches, he’s in jeopardy of losing his shifting ability because he hasn’t found his mate…literally. You see, gator shifters are mated from birth but his mate, Angelique, was abducted at birth. If he can’t find her by his thirtieth bayou moon, he’ll lose his ability to shift and by default, his ability to rule his territory. By sheer luck, he’s led to Las Vegas where he finds his mate. But she doesn’t know about her abilities nor does she know she has a mate. Can Jacques teach her how to be a shifter while making her fall in love with him? He has less than six months to try. Failure is not an option. His ruthless neighbor and adversary, Philip Boucher, has been trying to take over his territory for years. There’s a lot riding on his ability to persuade his mate, but one look at her and he knows he’ll move heaven and Earth to do it.

  Angelique always knew she was different. The adopted daughter of Vegas casino owners, she didn’t exactly have the usual upbringing. But when she shifts into a gator in a fit of anger, can a handsome stranger, claiming to be her mate, have the answers she’s been searching for about her real parents, her mysterious shifting abilities, and her true destiny? And can she give up her dreams to embrace the life she would have had if she hadn’t been abducted.

  It’s love on the bayou, Cajun style, as this Creole beauty does the one thing she swore she’d never do, fall in love with her mate.

  Dedication

  This one’s dedicated to the funny, quirky woman who is my mom. She’s always there for me, holding things together while I pursue my passion of writing.

  To the fastest dibber in the west: author Drea Riley, who called dibs from the moment I said Jacques was a Cajun gator shifter. Sorry ladies, she beat you to it!

  Author Note

  The Six Pods of Louisiana

  Name of Pod: Sovereign Family

  Lafayette Pod: Bertrand Family

  Baton Rouge Pod: LaFleur Family

  Acadia Pod: Boucher Family

  Shreveport Pod: LeBlanc Family

  Monroe Pod: Dupre Family

  Orleans Pod: Dubois Family

  Glossary of terms

  Pod: The territory or region where a congregation lives.

  Sovereign: Ruler or leader of a pod.

  Congregation: A group of gator shifters together

  Male Gator Shifter: Bull

  Female Gator Shifter: Cow

  Prologue

  “Push, Madam Monreux.”

  The heavy Creole accent of the midwife, Madam Marianne, prompted her to bear down. Annette screamed in distress. The pain seemed unbearable, yet she embraced it like a kindred spirit. Pain during childbirth was a rite of passage, a gift from God. It was a rite she relished, especially since she never thought she and her husband Louis would have a child.

  “Is it supposed to take this long, Madam? Is there supposed to be this much blood?”

  Louis’s voice was frantic and loud in the Spartan room that served as her birthing chamber. He sat on the edge of the birthing bed, his solid chest at her back for support and comfort.

  The shrewd eyes of Madam Marianne went from her to Louis and back again. Even in her pain she silently implored the woman not to tell him what she’d done. She’d tell him after she delivered, but not now.

  “I’m…fine…Louis,” she panted before pushing again.

  This time she felt movement as her body worked the baby farther out.

  This seemed to excite the midwife, who crouched down and gave her rapid orders to keep pushing. The child would soon come into the world.

  “I can see a bit of the head, not much longer now, cher. Push!”

  Louis braced her, giving her his strength. The energy came alive in the room, and she felt a jolt of adrenaline in her veins. So much sacrifice, but she was near the finish line now. They would have their child in the next few minutes.

  “A few more pushes and the child will come. Rochelle, come now! “The midwife shouted.

  Annette had nearly forgotten the midwife’s daughter, who seemed to be no more than fourteen, yet had the soulful and watchful eyes of a person nearly three times her age. The girl entered wearing a crisp white tank top and snowy peasant skirt that covered her feet. Her head was wrapped in a red scarf with one long thick braid down her back. She carried a bronze bowl in one hand along with a pouch in the other. Her skin was the shade of warm honey and held the sheen of perspiration.

  Summers in the bayou could be a nightmare. It didn’t help that the windows were open, leaving a ceiling fan to rotate the hot air. They were far away from everyone out here. The only things for miles around were swamps and gators. Reminding her of why she’d moved to New Orleans from her tiny parish outside Baton Rouge. She’d wanted a more exciting life, and she’d found it with Louis. Yet here she was, back in the bayou dabbling in voodoo and the small town superstitions she’d tried so hard to be rid of. She’d miscarried three times. After learning of the fourth, she’d been desperate, perhaps too desperate.

  “Are you ready? It’s time.”

  Annette nodded. She couldn’t go back and unring this bell. The price had already been paid.

  “Yes, I’m ready,” she panted.

  Rochelle put the bowl on the nightstand and opened the pouch. She started chanting and spreading the dark, sandy contents of the pouch around them in a circle.

  “What’s she doing? What’s that stuff?” Louis demanded, clearly uneasy. “What’s going on?”

  Madam Marianne answered him but looked in Annette’s eyes as she did so.

  “You’re wife has asked the spirits for an exchange, life for a life, soul for a soul. It is time for the sacrifice.”

  Another intense contraction tore through Annette
and she screamed as she pushed.

  “What did you do, Annette? What did you do?”

  Louis’s words of encouragement were now confused and accusatory.

  “I did what I had to do,” she grunted as she began to go numb. It was as if she were seeing things from the inside of another person.

  “Push!” Madam Marianne shouted. Rochelle took the bowl and smeared its crimson contents in the middle of Annette’s forehead and then down the middle of her rounded belly. Everywhere she touched burned.

  Annette ears felt as if they were full of cotton. Everything was muffled. She sobbed as the pain returned with a vengeance. There was a weight holding her down as she struggled for breath.

  “We come asking for an exchange. Let the spirit of the bayou fill this womb. What was once empty shall again have life.”

  Madam Marianne soaked her tiny hands in the red liquid and then pushed one inside of Annette as if to pull the baby out. Annette felt nearly crippling pain, yet she couldn’t open her mouth to scream, so she pressed back against Louis and moaned in agony. For the first time, she questioned the wisdom of what she’d done. The price of using voodoo was always high. Would she end up paying with her life?

  After a long while, there was a release of warmth. A scream that was not hers echoed in the room. It was as if it had come from another. Then there was silence. Annette waited what seemed like an eternity before she finally heard the wobbly cry from vocal cords being used for the first time. She sank back against Louis. It would all be okay now.

  “It’s a girl, cher.”

  The sound of foreboding was heavy in Madam Marianne’s statement. Louis noticed it as well.

  “What? Is something wrong with her? Let me see my daughter.” His husky, baritone voice held concern, which put Annette on edge.

  “Rochelle, take the child and clean her up. Only use the water in the green jug.”

  Madam Marianne’s eyes again went from her to Louis.

  Annette noticed the girl hesitated before carefully taking the crying baby into her arms, leaving a red stain on her pristine clothing. She was handling the baby as if she was the most precious thing in the world. It brought tears to Annette’s eye.

  “Is something wrong with our baby?” Louis demanded again.

  Madam Marianne started cleaning Annette, her actions swift and perfunctory from having done it many times before.

  “The child is fine but…I’m sorry, she bears the mark of the bayou, you cannot have her.”

  “No! No, no, no.”

  Annette shook her head and gritted her teeth in denial. She’d done too much and gone through too much to have this child, she wouldn’t let her go.

  “I’m sorry, cher. You knew this was a possibility.”

  “You promised me I’d have a child.”

  “Yes. You asked the bayou spirit to give you a baby, and it gave you one. Only she doesn’t belong to you.”

  She gazed at Annette like a sales clerk explaining a no return policy to a disgruntled customer. It pissed her off.

  “You asked that the dead baby inside of you be exchanged for a live one. You came seeking the good graces of the bayou spirit, and I warned you from the start that the bayou spirit works for humans, but it takes care of its own first. Did I not warn you that if one of its own was in need, it would find a human to be a surrogate? I explained to you that if the bayou chose you as a surrogate and put her own child into your womb, you would have to forfeit the child. Did I not tell you these things?”

  Annette remembered all too well the warning that she could possibly be chosen as a surrogate if one of the bayou’s gator people could not carry their own child, but she didn’t really believe in that stuff. Gator people were just myths the old people spoke about to keep their children in line. Nobody thought they were real.

  “You said it wouldn’t happen. You said it had been over a hundred years since that happened.”

  “No, Mrs. Monreux. I said there was a slim chance; it’s been nearly a hundred years since the last exchange. I wasn’t even born then. But the instructions are clear.”

  “What’s going on here? Where’s our child? I don’t care how she was born; we’re not leaving here without her. Is it more money that you want?”

  Louis reached for his wallet, but the midwife shook her head, her mouth pressed in a grim line. She finished cleaning Annette and lowered her gown and her legs. Annette grunted from the soreness.

  “Mr. Monreux, your wife knew what she was doing when she entered into this…arrangement. I can’t control the bayou spirits. I’m sorry, but that child is meant for them, she’s one of theirs, and has the mark of the sovereign on her. The bayou will not let her go. At sunset, Rochelle will take her into the glade and leave her there for her rightful parents to claim.”

  “No, that’s our baby!”

  Annette was exhausted and nearly hysterical. Tears streamed down her face at her impending loss. She’d never be able to have another baby. That had been the price of the magic she’d asked for. Madam Marianne had said she could help her, but it would cost her. She would forfeit the right to have another child, and if the child bore the mark of the bayou gator people, she’d have to give up the child.

  The gator people were said to inhabit the bayou and have the ability to shift into alligators. Annette was used to silly tales. She’d been born near a bayou parish, so she knew about all sorts of folklore regarding the gator people. She’d never paid much attention to it. Plus, Madam Marianne led her to believe the odds were low that the child would be marked. Now, here she was telling them that their daughter Angelique carried the mark. No, she wasn’t buying it.

  “I don’t believe you! At least let us see her,” Annette demanded.

  Madam Marianne seemed to consider the request before hunching her shoulders and shaking her head sympathetically.

  “Why would you want to lay eyes on something you can’t have? It’ll only upset you more.”

  “We want to see her, now.”

  Louis got to his feet, smoothly pulling out a wicked looking knife, which Annette knew he kept strapped to his ankle. He was tall and imposing in the small room. His ebony features were frozen in a mask of determination. His tone said he’d see their child…no matter what. Madame Marianne’s eyes grew wide before narrowing. She looked at him with angst and disgust. Annette didn’t want to offend the priestess, but she silently enjoyed the look of fear she saw in her eyes. Madam Marianne didn’t have such a condescending look on her face now, she thought as she watched to see what the old woman would do.

  “I see this one has violence in him; lots of blood on his hands. Mine won’t be added this day.” She slowly backed toward the door, maintaining eye contact with Louis.

  “Rochelle! Bring the child,” she ordered.

  In the blink of an eye Rochelle was there with the baby, who’d been cleaned and bundled up. A look of surprise crossed her face as she surveyed the room and the knife Louis was fisting.

  “Put the knife away and Rochelle will give your wife the child.”

  “We’re taking the baby. She’s ours.”

  “But I’ve told you, she’s marked. If you take her away from here, you’ll only be cursing yourselves. The bayou spirit will never leave you alone. You’ll never know peace with what you’ve done.”

  “We’ll take our chances.”

  “Do you know the gator people?”

  Louis was from Nevada, so Annette knew he wasn’t familiar with the legend.

  “I don’t give a damn who they are. Now give us our child. We’re taking her home. I’m not going to ask again.”

  Annette inhaled. She didn’t want Louis to hurt anyone. She just wanted their baby.

  She reached out a hand and put it on his arm to calm him.

  Madam Marianne nodded to her daughter, who looked uneasy. The girl slowly brought her the baby. They looked at the small bundle of joy she’d just brought into the world. Opening the blanket, they saw a massive amount of dark, curly
hair, pale skin like Annette’s Creole coloring, pink bow-shaped lips, a button nose, and puffy eyes. She was beautiful.

  “I don’t see a mark.” Annette cautiously scanned the child, who silently peered back at her through squinty lids.

  “It’s on her back.”

  She carefully turned the baby over and there, at the base of her spine, lay a rough, dark-green patch about the size and shape of a silver dollar. There were tiny green veins starting to spread out from the patch in all directions. It looked like a sunburst. Madam Marianne had spoken the truth. The child was marked.

  Annette’s hand shook as she covered the child back up. A part of her wanted to give the child up. Who knew what she would become? But this was her only chance to have a child. Her gaze went to Louis, although his face was sweaty, his jaw was set, and his eyes steady. He loved her. No matter what she did, he loved and understood her. They would be a family.

  “Let’s take our baby and go home.”

  Without hesitation, Louis picked her up and walked out of the room. She thought Madam Marianne would try to stop them, but to her surprise she let them pass.

  “Momma, you’re not going to do anything?” she heard Rochelle ask.

  Louis was putting her into the passenger seat of their car when the priestess spoke.

  “They can leave, but they’ll never know peace. The bayou is unforgiving, and there’ll be no rest until that child is returned to her rightful people. Mark my words.”

  Annette rolled up her window, tuning out the woman. She was exhausted but could not take her eyes from her daughter, who was sleeping peacefully.

  “Louis…”

  “Let’s just get her home, Annette.”

  She shook her head. Yes, home.

  Chapter One

  Angelique patrolled the floor of the Tiki Grand Hotel and Casino. As the pit boss for the establishment, her duties were numerous. She controlled the floor and every employee on it. She knew everyone’s job and how it should be done. That’s what made her such a force to be reckoned with. Finding cheaters, be they employees or customers, was a skill she’d always possessed. Perhaps it was because she’d grown up in a casino. Sure, while most girls were playing with dolls, Angelique was playing cards or shooting dice in one of Vegas’s well-known casinos.