Enslaved (The Inbetween Novels)

by R. C. Murphy

  The center had only seen five couples in the nine weeks they’d been open. She had faith once the clients showed favorable outcomes; their doctors would refer more of their patients to the center. It had been her idea to open the counseling center. Her partner agreed because, well, Deryck could deny her nothing. He even stayed late at night during their first week in the building to paint the walls of their offices. They’d been industrial beige before—not exactly a color encouraging people to relax and unburden themselves.

  Across from her, her client, Theresa, nodded. Her head bobbed in quick jerks. She was obviously nervous. “Any time I look at Steve, I see the future. I’m not talking about dinner next week, but way down the road when we’re taking our kids to the first day of high school—driving them completely nuts with a billion questions about lunch money and a ride home.”

  “Does Steve want to have a baby?”

  Shayla had no clue what Steve’s stance was on a child. This was the first session where they’d approached the subject directly. They divided the couples. Shayla took the women and Deryck talked with the men. It was easier for them to work their powers on members of the same sex without accidentally arousing them and causing a scene in the office or being accused of taking advantage of people’s misery to sleep with them.

  “I catch him picking out baby clothes when we go shopping. When the last round of fertility treatments failed—” A sob caught in her throat.

  Shayla slid forward in her chair and laid a hand on Theresa’s knee. “Have faith in your doctors. It takes time to figure out what works for each couple.”

  Circumspectly, Shayla pushed her power through her hand and into Theresa. A cyst had formed on one of her ovaries. It hadn’t grown to the point where her doctors were concerned about her health. The cyst did, however, alter her body chemistry. Her body saw the foreign object and shut down the ovary to protect itself. No matter how many times the doctors tried, they wouldn’t be able to make it work. They simply didn’t know enough about women’s bodies, despite all the advances in medicine. Shayla had an advantage with her powers. She sent a wave of energy into her client’s womb. If she lay with her husband at any point in the next twenty-four hours, they’d be guaranteed to have a child.

  Next door, Deryck would be assuring Steve was ready to take his wife to bed as soon as possible. At first, Shayla felt weird about using their gifts to make people have sex. Deryck reminded her it was normal. Most of the couples they saw had healthy sex lives despite the stress of trying to conceive a child.

  Theresa patted her hand. Shayla pulled it back before her client thought anything was wrong.

  “We’ve been trying for so long. I started looking at adoption agencies just in case.”

  Shayla nodded. She encouraged all of their clients to consider adoption. It gave them something to focus on and ease their worries while they worked their magic to ensure ideal conditions for pregnancy. “Do you want a boy or girl?”

  “I want a healthy child, Ms. McIntire.”

  Smiling, Shayla stole a glance at her watch. They still had five minutes, but Theresa’s mind was exactly where it needed to be as far as children were concerned. “We’re almost out of time. Why don’t you see Faye and schedule your next visit?”

  “Time flies in here.” She gathered her purse and coat from the coat rack near the office door. “Thank you. These sessions have helped both of us so much.”

  “I’m glad. I’ll see you in a few weeks, Theresa.”

  Shayla opened the door for her and stood in the doorway, watching Faye scribble down a date and time for the next visit. They’d prescheduled it to take place after Theresa’s next visit to the fertility clinic. If everything went right, she’d visit with the happy news. It would be the second child they helped conceive. Shayla wondered if it would be appropriate to get their clients baby gifts. She’d have to run the idea by Deryck to see what he thought.

  Speak of the devil; Deryck stepped out of his office. “We’ll see you in a few weeks, Steve.”

  Steve spared a second to smile at Shayla before joining his wife at the reception desk. Faye repeated the date and time of the appointment for him. He tapped the information into his cell phone. Theresa bumped her shoulder into his. They walked out of the office suite with his arm wrapped around her shoulders and hers around his waist. Faye smiled after them.

  Shayla didn’t know what they were going to do for receptionist when she came up with the idea to open the center. Then Faye quit her job two weeks before the baby was due. She wanted to have more time with her little girl. Shayla offered her the job on the grounds she could take as much personal time as she wanted and they converted the suite’s lunchroom into a daycare and nursery. Having Emma in the office with them gave clients a slice of hope they couldn’t have instilled otherwise.

  Deryck stepped behind Shayla and pulled her into his arms. “I give them two hours before they’re in bed. Steve was already thinking about it. I didn’t have to do anything.”

  “At least they have a sex life. The Stephenson’s won’t touch each other and I’m not sure she wants to have a second child or if it is expected of her.” Shayla had been worrying over them since their first appointment.

  He kissed the top of her head. “We’ll worry about the Stephenson’s later. They don’t come in until tomorrow.”

  Faye joined them in the short hall leading to their offices. She had Emma strapped across her chest with some sort of infant-sized hammock. The baby snoozed. Faye brushed her hair and smiled. “It’s your anniversary and you’re still working? I thought for sure you’d call to cancel your appointments today and stay in bed.”

  “She wouldn’t let me.”

  “I didn’t want our happiness to be at someone else’s expense. They looked cheerful when they left. I’m glad we didn’t move their appointment.” She needed to see their success. It made all of the work and stress worth it in the end.

  “It will work this time. We’ve done all we can, the rest is up to them.” Deryck closed and locked their office doors. “Faye, would you lock up the suite, please? We’ll be out for the rest of the night, but if something comes up, call.”

  Faye gave a knowing smile. “Have fun, you two.”

  Deryck slid into the passenger side of Shayla’s Mazda. He had yet to master driving further than a straight shot down the street in front of their home. Right turns were hairy, and the last attempt he made at a left turn ended with the car’s front wheels on the sidewalk. Shayla did all the driving, which made his desire to surprise her difficult. He was glad for the GPS program on his phone, though. He held it in his lap, the screen hidden from Shayla when she joined him in the car.

  “Where are we going?”

  “It’s a surprise, sweetheart. Follow the GPS’s directions.”

  “You’re bad at being sneaky.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek.

  “I’m getting better at it.”

  The car slipped into gear. Shayla followed the robotic male voice of the GPS, driving toward the freeway leading north of the city. She made all of the right turns, occasionally tossing a glance his way. They were leaving the city behind and drove on a small two-lane road cutting through the foothills. The car pulled off the road and parked at the command of the robotic voice from his phone.

  Shayla leaned against the wheel to look at the hill to their right. “Did you bring me out to the middle of nowhere so no one could hear me scream? This is kinda creepy, honey.”

  Laughing, Deryck climbed out of the car and circled toward the back. “No, I brought you out here so I wouldn’t have to share you with anyone. Pop the trunk.”

  The Mazda’s trunk unlatched and bobbed open, exposing two large picnic baskets and two bags full of a tarp, blankets, and pillows. A pair of electric lanterns were tucked against the sides of the trunk so they wouldn’t roll around.

  Shayla climbed out of her seat. “When did you pack all of that in there? More importantly, how did you fit it all?” She reached for
one of the lanterns.

  He playfully tapped her hand. “I can do this. Sit and wait. I don’t want you hurting yourself in those shoes.”

  Shayla leaned against the car. Deryck couldn’t resist stealing a kiss before he snagged the tarp out of one of the bags and spread it out on the flattest piece of ground he could find further up the hillside. He used a few rocks to hold it flat while he went back for the bags with the blankets. In about fifteen minutes, he’d fashioned an area larger than a king-size bed resembling the floor of a harem tent straight out of an old movie—pillows and trays of exotic food scattered everywhere with room to sit and relax. All they were missing was a dancing girl and some music, but he refused to share Shayla with anyone else on their anniversary.

  Deryck walked down to the car and handed Shayla a pile of clothes. He wanted her to be comfortable. She smiled at the set of her favorite pajamas and sandals. “Go sit. I’ll join you when I’ve changed.”

  He sat at the nearest edge of the blankets, watching Shayla in the front seat of her car. She stripped off her shoes and pantyhose. Without removing her skirt, she pulled the sleep pants up. Only then did she shimmy out of the skirt. Deryck grinned. She had no clue how entertaining her little show was.

  Shayla locked the car and joined him. “Enjoying yourself?”

  “I loved the little wiggle move you did to take off your bra.”

  “Letch.” She kissed him. “Thank you for the change of clothes.”

  “Anything to make you happy.” He laid back and grabbed a tray from across the blankets. “Speaking of . . . .”

  “Potstickers. I love you.” She snagged one and popped it in her mouth.

  “I will assume you were talking to me and not the food.”

  Shayla chewed, her eyes closed. “It’s a draw. Those are really good.”

  He knew they were. All of the food he’d packed was from her favorite restaurants and aisles in the grocery store. Deryck picked up a cracker from the cheese tray he’d made and scooped a bit of soft white cheese onto it. Shayla reached for it, but he ate it instead. She huffed and leaned over his lap to get her own. He took the opportunity to massage her ass, noting at some point she’d taken off her panties. His fingers traced the line where they should be.

  Shayla looked over her shoulder. “If I’m going to be comfortable, I wasn’t going to leave my underwear on.”

  “Have I told you how much I love the way you think?”

  She sat up, a triple layer sandwich of crackers and cheese in hand. “Nearly every day, but you could say it more often.”

  Deryck opened the wine. He kept Shayla’s glass full until he was sure she’d left the worries of work and their life behind. She’d been incredibly tense during the long process of getting their offices together, down to hauling boxes of paintings and desk parts up the elevator by herself. She needed the down time. This was the first time he’d seen her smile easily in weeks.

  Glass in hand, Shayla laid back into the pile of pillows. Deryck let her relax and packed up the food so bugs and the gods know what else tried to steal their romantic feast. He topped off their glasses and set them on the other side of the pillow on a metal tray to keep them from spilling. Shayla tugged him down beside her. He couldn’t deny her and rested his head beside hers on a large pillow. Their hands found each other, fingers intertwining. For a while they laid there, content to watch the first stars chase the sun over the horizon in their dark blue-black blanket.

  “I want to expand our reach,” Shayla said, breaking the silence.

  “How so?” They’d done what they could to reach doctors who’d refer patients to them. Short of having a dancing sperm outside the building, he couldn’t figure out a way to bring in new clients. They needed to be patient, but if she had an idea, he’d love to hear it.

  “After Cyrus—Eros—died, I was left alone, dealing with the miscarriage and it damn near drove me insane. You can’t understand how it is to feel something alive inside you one day and the next, there’s nothing. And you’re left with a room full of tiny clothes and things that eat at you. I didn’t rebuild my life hundreds of miles from the home I’d been married in to escape Cyrus’s memory. I left to get away from Ryan. That’s what I wanted to name him, my boy. They won’t know that where he is now.” A tear rolled down the side of her upturned face and soaked into the hair above her ear.

  Deryck dried the tear’s trail with his thumb and did the same on the other side. He cradled her head on his shoulder. “If you think you can handle it, we will.”

  “I don’t want these women to be left alone.”

  He kissed her brow. “They have a good champion in you.”

  Shayla gave a short laugh. “Min didn’t give me his blood for me to champion distraught women.” She sat up suddenly, eyes wide and excited. “All incubi are taken at eight months in the womb, right?”

  He wasn’t following her line of logic. “Yes, I believe so. Why?”

  “Deryck, if we find another case like mine—a woman who miscarries at eight months and loses her husband shortly after—we may have the key to freeing another incubus. What if we find a way to match them up? I think this is what Min wanted me to do.”

  He shook his head, wishing she were correct if it would help ease her mind. “He doesn’t care about the women the god’s abuse, Shayla.”

  “You’re wrong. I can’t tell you why, but you are.”

  Passion flared in her eyes. Her energy danced across his skin. She truly meant what she said. Even if he said no, voiced his concern about her tackling her past face-to-face through the emotions of their potential clients, she’d press on. Deryck’s hands were tied, he knew it. Shayla had a point, though. They were best suited to help not only the human women the gods had used, but his brethren trapped in their service. There was a lot of risk involved. They couldn’t do it alone.

  “You’ll have to play go-between and arrange things with Wolfrik if we’re going to make this work.”

  Shayla made a happy noise and crawled on top of him. Her lips found his. Her fingers fisted in his hair. Deryck tasted her excitement, fed off it. He nipped her bottom lip and shifted a hand between them to adjust his arousal—the zipper of his slacks bit in painfully.

  Shayla peeked around them. “How much privacy do you think we have?”

  Deryck grinned. “Enough. I did drag you out to the middle of nowhere so no one could hear you scream.”

  About the Author

  R.C. Murphy spends her nights writing urban fantasy novels and a slew of short stories for her blog, The Path of a Struggling Writer. By day she is a not so mild-mannered housewife, wrangling vampires, demons, and various other nasty creatures. R.C. has joined forces with fellow writers, artists, and actors to form the Zombie Survival Crew where she reviews movies, TV shows, as well as penning articles on important survival skills.

  Blog | Twitter | Facebook | Zombie Survival Crew | Just Ink Press

  Email: RC.Murphy5150@gmail.com

  SPECIAL PREVIEW

  In Too Deep

  By R. C. Murphy

  Fog in California’s Central Valley was a creature not to be trifled with. It swallowed up buildings, cars, and people without a second thought. The fog took more lives than automatic weapons. It was a trickster on par with Loki, manipulating distances, making people believe they had plenty of time to slow down when in actuality they were seconds from becoming intimate with the rear bumper of a semi truck. Surviving the fog was the most difficult part of life in the valley. Or so she thought.

  Meghan Sterling tugged the scarf around her neck tighter and tucked the ends into the too-big uniform jacket hanging off her shoulders. Cold crept in on the heels of the fog. The warehouse parking lot she patrolled was damp, freezing, and not making her job any easier. Whose brilliant idea was it to become a security guard? She cursed and shoved her gloved hands in her pockets. It was time to make another pass around the back quarter of the property. Whoop-dee-doo. More weeds and fog. And being forced to deal wit
h the two men stuck working the graveyard shift with her.

  Walking with her chin tucked into her scarf, Meghan made her way to the rear of the massive warehouse. Why farmers were so protective of a warehouse full of oranges, she had no clue. The money paid her expenses, but it wasn’t worth the frostbite and vampire work hours. She’d need a month-long vacation on the beach when the job was finished.

  “Let’s grab a bite to eat,” a male voice said from around the corner of the warehouse.

  Meghan stopped before she stepped into view, listening to her coworkers, despite the lack of movement, which made her colder. She had no desire to trade not-so-witty banter with them anytime soon. They were okay on the eyes, actually possessed brains, but ran out of non-manly things to talk about after five seconds in her company. She couldn’t make herself pretend to be interested in the Superbowl.

  “All you can think about is your stomach, Jarlan. Give it a rest. We’re not done here. You can eat on the way home.”

  “I’m tired of fast food. When’s the last time you sat down to a nice warm meal, Rich?”

  “Too long to remember, but we agreed to this job. We can’t leave Clara to watch the place by herself.”

  Jarlan laughed. “She’d piss herself watching shadows if she knew the truth.”

  Meghan held her breath. Six months of lurking and waiting were about to pay off. She tucked in closer to the warehouse wall. The heel of her boot caught a pebble and ground it into the asphalt. The noise was deafening to her ears. This is why I’m not a ninja.

  Cover blown, she plastered a smile on her face and stepped out to meet them near the back door, measuring her pace so it didn’t look like she’d been listening in. “Have the oranges turned into man-eating monsters yet?”