Enslaved (The Inbetween Novels)

by R. C. Murphy

  Shayla sat curled up in her favorite oversized chair. She couldn’t stop looking at the flowers, analyzing the care that went into the attempt to arrange them into something nice. It wasn’t a gift a complete stranger leaves on one’s desk. Someone who had real, true feelings leaves something so beautiful and she didn’t even know the man. Her head hurt from the adrenaline crash, it throbbed during the entire drive home. All she wanted to do was forget the day ever happened.

  “I can’t believe that guy followed you into your office. What do you think he wanted?” Faye flipped the flower card onto the table.

  Shayla shrugged. “I didn’t exactly ask while running away from him.”

  “Too bad he’s a weirdo.”

  “Don’t go there, Faye.”

  “I’m just saying. Normally, if a guy brings flowers, he means business.”

  Shayla snorted. “Or he wants to dress you up as a doll and keep you locked in his basement as a sex slave.”

  Faye rolled over and propped her chin on the arm of the couch to stare at Shayla. “You watch too much TV.”

  No amount of television could have prepared Shayla for what happened that afternoon. Nor could it have spared her a pang of regret when the man, D, offered her a heartfelt apology. At least, that was what it sounded like to her. Shayla rolled her eyes at herself. If she didn’t get her head on straight, she’d end up being the next missing person with her picture all over the news.

  “Do you think he’ll come back?” Shayla wasn’t sure if she enjoyed the prospect or dreaded it. She wanted to apologize for calling the cops on him. Then again, maybe she had a right to be concerned. Her headache grew worse from her battling emotions.

  “Your brains have been scrambled. You know what you need?” Faye rolled off the couch with all the grace Shayla lacked.

  “A brain transplant?”

  “Egg rolls, pot stickers, and vodka.” Faye grinned.

  “I don’t have any of those.”

  Faye flapped her hand toward the coat rack in the front hallway. “There’s a bottle of vodka over there. I’ll call for the others while you make drinks and find something for us to watch, preferably with hot men.” She winked and went into the kitchen, presumably to grab the number for the Chinese place off the fridge.

  “Do you always travel with booze in your purse?” Shayla called.

  A laugh answered her. Of course Faye would show up with booze. It was her answer for all of life’s woes–alcohol and bad-for-you food. Shayla foresaw a lot of salads in her future if her friend stayed in the “make it all better” mood she’d arrived in.

  Shayla pried her ass out of her seat and strolled over to where Faye’s purse hung off of the coat tree. Sure enough, she found a huge bottle of vodka. It was half-tempting to open it and take a swig without a chaser. If it’d been flavored rum, she probably would have. Instead, she raided the pantry for a bottle of soda to mix it with.

  Drinks in hand, Shayla went back the living room, completely ignoring the long list of food Faye rambled off over the phone. There was no way the two of them could eat all of it in one night, no matter how stressed or upset she was. Her stomach growled, apparently accepting the challenge.

  There wasn’t anything interesting on TV. Annoyed with her cable service’s lack of psychic ability to know to put on something good when she needed a pick-me-up, Shayla dug through her DVD collection. Her fingers brushed over the cover of NCIS, season one. Grinning, she pulled it out and popped in the first disc. Death and sarcasm, that’d help her mood for sure.

  Faye walked in from the kitchen and resumed her position on the couch. She grinned at the opening credits on the TV. “Good choice.”

  “Never doubt my ability to find therapeutic things to watch.”

  They sat in silence for a few minutes. Shayla was glad for it. Her brain finally started to slow down. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the show. She wasn’t sure, but it didn’t matter anyway.

  Faye broke the silence. “I was thinking—”

  “Hope you didn’t hurt yourself.” Shayla took a sip of her drink.

  “Shut up.” Faye flipped her the bird. “I was thinking maybe this mystery guy isn’t such a bad idea.”

  Shayla paused the show to make sure she’d heard correctly. “Say what?”

  “Maybe this is your chance to cowgirl up and get over all the shit that’s happened to you. Move past this self-enforced celibacy. Live a little.”

  All Shayla could do was gape at Faye. Was she really suggesting she crawl in bed with a complete stranger who could possibly be a stalker and a drug dealer? Her friend had said and done a lot of insane things in her life, but this newest idea took the crazy cake and the nut-job ice cream, and covered it all in bat-shit whipped cream.

  “Please tell me you’re joking, Faye.”

  A grin spread over the other woman’s lips. “You should see your face right now. If I didn’t think you’d smash my phone, I’d take a picture.”

  “That’s not an answer, damn it.”

  Faye rolled her eyes. “Okay, fine. You don’t have to ride Mr. Mysterious until he begs for mercy, but please promise me you’ll at least start making some sort of progress in your personal life.”

  “I can’t promise anything. Not after everything that’s happened in the last week.”

  “I’ll take that.” The doorbell rang. Faye stood up to answer the door. “But we are going out for lunch next week. Don’t argue.”

  Shayla sighed. Arguing with Faye was useless. Her friend did what she wanted, when she wanted. Sure, she had a good heart and only wanted to help. But what if Shayla didn’t need help? What if her destiny was to be alone?

  The scent of Chinese food cut off the litany of depressing thoughts crowded together in Shayla’s mind. She hit play on the TV and cleared off the coffee table. They’d eat, laugh at the show, and if need be, Shayla would beat Faye’s head in if she mentioned the man--or any other man--for the duration of their night in.

  Even a gym located in a small slice of lands occupied by the gods and other beings of legend smelled like stale sweat and soggy socks. No amount of cleaning by invisible butlers could erase the scent. Under the lemon-fresh cleaners, it lingered, trapped in the nooks and crannies after centuries of males working themselves to exhaustion.

  Not that the sons of gods needed to pump iron to stay fit, but they needed a hobby aside from plowing females.

  Deryck stood at the head of a weight bench, his mind only half focusing on his task. Other things occupied his mind. Things he knew better than to consider around anyone else, lest he accidentally say or do something to betray his thoughts. He shifted his feet closer to the bench to remind himself where he was. It didn’t work to banish her from his mind.

  Below him on the bench, Wolfrik slowly raised and lowered about four hundred pounds of iron weights. The veins on his forearms bulged each time he pushed the steel bar above his chest. His arms wobbled. The bar clanked loudly against the brace.

  “If you’re going to be as useless as men’s tits, you might as well step aside, Deryck,” Wolfrik grunted and tried to set the weight down on the braces again, with little luck.

  “Shit.” Deryck grabbed the bar and jerked it onto the brace before it fell and crushed Wolfrik’s chest. The injury wouldn’t kill him, he healed too fast, but it would irritate his mentor.

  Wolfrik sat up and stretched his left arm across his chest. “About time you came back.”

  Deryck handed him a glass of water. “I didn’t go anywhere.”

  Wolfrik shook his head. “Don’t try to fool me. You haven’t been with us in weeks. Sure, your body makes its way back to the compound, but each time you are called to the Inbetween, more of your mind stays behind.”

  Fear tightened Deryck’s gut. Did Wolfrik know the truth? “I apologize. I will try to be more attentive when we’re working out.”

  Wolfrik sized him up. His gaze drifted to Deryck’s tattoos. “Is it true what the others are saying, have you take
n a regular caller?”

  Deryck shook his head. “I swore when I began this life, I would not and I will not break that vow. They may use my body, but no one woman will own me.” Inwardly, he cringed. One female in existence could make him break his vow. It was an impossible dream, though.

  “You’ve been taking more frequent calls, then.”

  The lie Deryck had ready stuck in his throat. Wolfrik had been his companion and guide in the compound for nearly three thousand years. True, he’d outgrown the need for a mentor early in his service, but occasionally he needed someone to go to and lay down all of his frustrations. He needed someone to give him a shake and remind him why it was useless to rage and argue against their nature.

  “No. I haven’t been taking more calls from females on the Inbetween. Many times when I leave the compound, I’ve been . . .” Deryck took a deep breath. “I’ve been transported to the human realm. The reason is unclear, but I—” He was unsure if he should reveal Shayla’s part in things.

  Eyes wide, Wolfrik grabbed Deryck by the scruff of his neck and dragged him to a vacant room filled with all manner of sporting equipment.

  “Have you been drawn to anyone, a female you constantly appear around who pulls you to her no matter how far away you are?” Wolfrik whispered.

  Deryck’s stomach dropped. He needed to know more. “Yes. I swear I did not try to go to the human realm. Will I be punished?”

  Wolfrik shook him. “Yes, you will, but only if you are caught before you complete the ritual.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “There is only one reason an incubus is called to the human realm. You’ve found her. She can free you.”

  The world around them swam. Deryck couldn’t believe what he said. There was an out? Why hadn’t anyone told him before? He had a billion questions to ask. They all tumbled out at once in an incoherent mess.

  Wolfrik hissed and rubbed his wrist. “Tell no one of this. I will tell you more when I return. Do not go to her until I return, Deryck. Swear it.”

  Before Deryck could answer, Wolfrik vanished.

  Knees like pudding, he sank onto the floor and leaned against the wall. After all this time of being used and uncared for, he had the chance to be free. Shayla was the key, but there was so much he didn’t understand. Namely, why didn’t anyone speak of this miracle? Surely the others would long, as he had, for a way to be able to live and love at their will.

  None of it made sense.

  “Holding up the wall, Deryck?” Garik stood in the doorway of the small room he’d taken refuge in. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

  Startled, Deryck stood. His head spun, but he played it off by stretching his arms over his head and leaning against the wall until everything righted itself again. “I was looking for a basketball.”

  “Oh man, we haven’t played in a while.” Garik ducked around a shelf full of all shapes and sizes of sports balls. “Got one. A game of one-on-one sounds good.”

  Glad for anything to distract himself with, Deryck snagged the basketball from Garik. “Don’t cry when you lose again.”

  Little birds swooped down to the patio. They hopped between tables, pecking at crumbs dropped by messy eaters or people suckered in by their teeny, tiny cuteness. A group of birds fought over a sizeable chuck of bread beside Shayla’s table. She dropped another down to them. The birds left the first piece of bread and flocked to the new one. A smart one broke off and doubled back to the original piece. It flew off with its prize while the others cheeped and pecked at each other.

  “Your croutons are getting soggy,” Faye said. She nudged Shayla with a foot under the table.

  “Sorry. I’m not very hungry.” Shayla dropped the rest of her dinner roll to the birds. A busboy across the patio gave her a disapproving look.

  Faye reached across and handed Shayla a fork. “You need to eat. We aren’t leaving until you do.”

  “Are you going to mother me all afternoon?” Reluctantly, Shayla stuck the fork into her Caesar salad.

  “Only if you need it. Judging by the half-ass makeup job and wrinkled clothes, I’m going to go out on a limb and say you need someone to remind you to take care of yourself.” Faye shook her head. “Are you still hung up on what happened at the office? It’s been days. He hasn’t been around again, has he?”

  Shayla chewed the bite of salad. Going to lunch with Faye was a mistake. The woman could have been a chief interrogator during the inquisition.

  “No, I haven’t seen him again.” Much to her dismay. That fact alone caused her to panic. Was there some sort of psychological disorder where victims of stalking wanted to be followed? Better yet, she should just simplify it and say she’d lost her goddamned mind in the last few days.

  Shayla pushed her bra strap back onto her shoulder. She’d worn the lace and satin bra she swore she’d never wear. Why? God only knew.

  “That’s it, I’m going to call NASA,” Faye blurted out of the blue.

  Shayla jumped. Lettuce flew off her fork and landed on her lap. Creamy salad dressing and parmesan cheese smeared over the leg of her jeans. Cursing under her breath, Shayla picked the chunks of salad off her thigh and swiped at the mess with a napkin.

  “What the hell? Does NASA even exist anymore?”

  Faye handed over another napkin. “I sure as hell hope so, or our only chance to bring your mind back to earth is gone.”

  Faye calling her out about being a space case made Shayla feel worse than before. She gave up on cleaning up the salad dressing and tossed the dirty napkins over her food.

  “Can I be honest?”

  Faye nodded. “Please do. Maybe then you’ll start acting like yourself again.”

  “That guy has been on my mind since seeing him at the office. Every time I pass the flowers he brought, I want to track him down and thank him for them. Or at the very least, apologize for freaking out and calling the cops on him.” Shayla leaned back in her seat. “Can you fall for someone you think may be stalking you?”

  Around the corner of the restaurant, Deryck leaned against the wall and forgot how to breathe. It hadn’t been his intention to spy on Shayla and her friend on their lunch date, but he couldn’t stay away from her. He’d been roused from his sleep by agonizing pain radiating from his incubi bands and thought he’d been called to service someone. When he saw Shayla through the windows of the building, he realized what was going on.

  And after hearing her confession, he knew exactly why he’d been summoned. Whatever force was bringing them together wanted him to witness this moment.

  His heart banged against his ribs. Could she really feel something for him after he’d scared her so badly?

  Deryck stole a glance around the corner of the building. The women sat with their backs to him, a small blessing. He marveled for a moment at how attractive Shayla was, no matter what angle he saw her from. Even with her hair piled into a messy ponytail, it captivated him. Diluted sunlight filtered by clouds hid the red highlights he liked so much but he didn’t care. Simply being close to her pleased him.

  A man approached Shayla and Faye from the far side of the patio. His face was partially hidden by a baseball cap. Oversized clothes disguised his true size. He was plain enough by human standards. Deryck wouldn’t have paid him any attention except once he passed the women, he circled back around.

  Uneasy with the amount of attention he paid to Shayla in particular, Deryck eased around the corner. He’d blow his cover if need be to make sure the man didn’t harm her.

  The human lurched toward Shayla. She yelled and pushed out of her seat. The man took off running with something clutched in his hands.

  “That bastard took my purse!”

  Pissed beyond reason at the personal violation to Shayla, Deryck leapt over the foot-high iron fence bordering the patio and pursued the thief. The man looked back. His eyes widened and he picked up speed, darting between tables. They jumped over the fence at the opposite end of the dining area.

&
nbsp; The human ran through the parking lot as though the hounds of hell were drooling on his heels. He shouted threats back at Deryck, who paid them no heed. If the man were armed, he’d stop and face him for a fight. Instead he continued to run.

  Deryck followed him around the corner of another building on the far side of the parking lot and out of sight of the upset diners, namely Shayla.

  He drew on his preternatural strength and caught up to the man. Deryck grabbed the strap of Shayla’s purse. The thief didn’t slow at all and the purse ripped in half. The contents spilled onto the pavement.

  “Motherfucker,” the human shouted. He dropped the ruined purse and took off down the street.

  Deryck stopped. There was no use capturing the man when what he truly wanted lay at his feet. Kneeling, he began to gather everything back together. He picked up the purse and examined it.

  “How the hell did she fit all of that in this tiny thing?” It defied the physics of her world.

  He tried to stuff everything back into the bag, but it wouldn’t hold together. Deryck stripped out of his t-shirt and used it to make a pack to carry Shayla’s belongings in.

  After making sure he’d picked up every last item that’d been in her purse, Deryck turned around to head back to the restaurant. He rounded the corner and stepped into the parking lot. Shayla stood not ten feet away, staring right at him.

  “Oh my—“

  “God,” Faye finished for her.

  Shayla had never seen such an impressive set of muscles before. His chest was so firm; she wanted to bounce pebbles off it. His deep olive skin only served to accent his abs. And she couldn’t look at his arms without entertaining completely inappropriate thoughts.

  He balanced a bundle of lumpy cloth in arms twice the size of hers. When he stepped closer, the knot at the top of the bundle loosened. The strap of her purse slithered out and hung down across the back of his hand. The end was frayed. Shayla silently mourned the loss of a good purse.