Enslaved (The Inbetween Novels) (41 page)

Shayla stirred in her sleep. The energy surged. Frowning, Deryck unwound from her arms and sat up, looking down at her. He placed a hand over her chest and closed his eyes. Concern ate at his stomach.

Her eyes fluttered open. “Again? Twice in one night is enough for most men.”

“Shh.”

She stilled. Deryck focused and sent a strand of his awakened power through Shayla’s body. He sensed something different about her. As much as his ego wanted to believe sleeping with him changed her life in a vital way, he didn’t believe it.

“Did Min do anything to you during the ceremony?”

Shayla sat back against the headboard. Her hand raked through her hair, pulling it out of her face. “No, not that I remember.”

“Maybe you touched his blood?”

“Some spilled on my hand. I didn’t lick it or anything.” She wrinkled her nose.

“No, but you could have introduced it into your bloodstream after you cut yourself.” Deryck cursed and scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck. Min doesn’t do anything by accident. He intentionally gave his blood to Shayla.

“What’s going on, Deryck?”

“Something isn’t right. You should be a power null now, aside from the latent power humans hold. But your energy is high. It kept me awake.” He shook his head. “We need to find someone who knows more about these sorts of things than I do.”

“I’m fresh out of people with more universal knowledge than the demi-god in my bed.” Shayla hugged the blankets to her chest. “Min told you, ‘Enjoy your gift.’ What if whatever is going on is that gift?”

“We still need to know what has changed in you.”

“Can you summon Min and ask? It seems like the easiest solution.”

Deryck shook his head. “He’s done enough damage”

“Being stubborn won’t get you any answers. There has to be someone you can talk to.”

Any and all of his resources for universal knowledge were in the God’s Lands. Despite his demi-god status, he wouldn’t be welcomed there. Shayla would have better luck asking the gods for help than he would.
That’s it.

“Wolfrik.”

“The incubus slash healer you told me about? He’s not exactly walking around downtown where we can get to him, Deryck.”

“No, but he can get to a place where you can talk to him.” Deryck jumped out of bed, heading for the door.

“Where are you going?” Shayla called.

“I need a tree branch.” He heard her feet slapping against the hardwood floor.

“You might need these.” Shayla shoved the sweatpants into his arms and wrapped her robe around her, securing it with the sash around her waist.

Deryck shoved his legs through the pants and pulled them into place. He made left at the hall. The back door was at the end of the hall. It was a straight shot from the front to the back, he noted. Shayla leaned against the doorframe to her bedroom, watching him with a concerned look on her face.

He jogged outside and surveyed the trees available. There were two small trees in the far corners of her yard. He didn’t know off-hand what kind they were. In a pinch they’d work. Deryck looked to the neighbor’s yard. An apple tree, just beginning to fill out with small green leaves, hung over the tall fence separating the houses.
Perfect.
He reached up and tore off a decent-sized branch. Breaking off the smaller parts, he was left with a four-inch piece of apple tree about an inch in diameter. He hoped it would be enough space.

Back inside, he grabbed Shayla’s hand and pulled her toward the kitchen. “I need a knife that’ll work on wood.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m making a way for you to meet Wolfrik.” He urged her to keep moving, before his mind lost its grip on the image it held.

Shayla slipped into the kitchen in front of him and rummaged through a drawer filled with so much junk, he couldn’t believe the bottom didn’t fall out. Finally, in the back corner of the drawer, she uncovered a pocketknife. She handed it to him. Deryck unfolded the blade and tested it against his thumb. The blade was sharp, it’d work.

He sat down and leaned against the cabinets. Methodically, he peeled away the bark lengthwise on the forward-facing half of the stick. When the last piece fell away, Deryck carved the intricate swirls and symbols of Wolfrik’s incubus tattoo. Shayla joined him on the floor, crossing her legs under her. She stayed silent. He was thankful she didn’t question his sanity. Even he had his doubts with the plan, but it was the only one he could think of.

Deryck flicked away one last piece of apple wood. He folded the knife and set it on the counter. Taking a moment, he located the broom and dustpan near the washer and dryer closet and cleaned up the mess he made.

Silently, they walked back to the bedroom. Deryck sat on the side of the bed and motioned for Shayla to join him. He handed her the stick. “This is an incubus totem, like the one I gave you to call me. Put it under your pillow when we lay down and it will summon Wolfrik to you. Make sure you introduce yourself as soon as you see him. He is a good friend, but first and foremost, he is an honorable male who does his duty without question. If you don’t tell him who you are, he will assume you are there to have sex.”

“Will it work?”

“Wolfrik is the only person I can think of who may know what is happening to you, or at least, point us in the direction of someone who can help.”

They stripped and climbed under the covers again. Deryck made sure Shayla tucked the totem inside her pillowcase so it didn’t fall off the bed during the night and cut off her meeting with Wolfrik prematurely. She rolled onto her side, facing away from him. Deryck scooted closer and wrapped an arm over her hip. Shayla snuggled back into him. He kissed the soft skin behind her ear and returned his head to his own pillow—he didn’t want his powers negating the power of the totem.

“Remember, tell him who you are.”

“I will.”

Thin fog covered the narrow side street Shayla walked down. She’d picked a neutral location downtown to meet Wolfrik. The street and buildings on either side were abandoned and dark, lit by a setting sun she couldn’t find no matter how hard she looked through the lifting fog. It was creepy, unsettling. But that was the way of the Inbetween. A woman was given the man of her dreams to do with as she pleased. Having someone else in their fantasy would ruin the experience. She didn’t care if she was seen with Wolfrik, they’d be talking—hopefully without the gods listening in. Shayla had no clue what would happen to her if they found out she’d been dosed with Min’s blood. Would they kill her?

Shayla’s knees wobbled dangerously. She sat down on a nearby bench and started counting the blocks of sidewalk leading east down the street until everything was swallowed up by mist fifty yards away.

The fog swirled. A shadow moved through it, coming closer. The man stepped through into view. Shayla gaped. Deryck didn’t prepare her to face yet another sex god. Wolfrik—she assumed it was him; the charm was made to summon only one incubus to her side—walked like a man who owned the world. His hair trailed behind like a black ribbon. The denim vest he wore showed off a set of muscles human males spent every day in the gym building. His jeans were a relaxed fit, but he managed to make them work just fine. She frowned at his feet. They were bare. When she visited Deryck in the Inbetween, he wore shoes.

Wolfrik stopped in front of the bench. His brown eyes locked with hers for a moment and dropped. “Hello, Mistress.”

Shayla took his wrist and urged him to sit beside her. Automatically, his hand slipped to her thigh. His fingertips traced circles along the inseam of her jeans. She moved his hand. “No, Wolfrik.”

His head snapped up. “Who are you? No one knows our names.”

“My name is Shayla. I have a feeling you know far more about my life than I do, if Deryck is right.

Wolfrik put a few inches of space between them. “Don’t tell Deryck I was trying to seduce you. He is a true friend, but gods—even diluted ones—tend to be possessive.

“I’ll remember that.” She crossed her ankles under the bench. Her right foot tapped against the sidewalk. “I don’t know how to ask you what I’ve been sent to ask,” Shayla admitted after a silent moment.

“Did something go wrong after you freed Deryck? I know it worked. A new incubus was brought in to replace him a few hours ago.”

For a horrible moment, Shayla thought,
That could be my child sent into the jaws of whatever woman wanted to use his body. He’ll never know anything but the life of a slave and all because I was weak enough to believe a man wanted to marry me for who I am, not what I can do for him.
Tears stung the back of her eyes.

“It wasn’t your son, Shayla,” Wolfrik said. His hand patted hers.

“Can you read minds?”

“No. I read everything on your face. How did Deryck have such a hard time getting to know you when everything about you is right there on the surface?”

“He was more nervous than I was whenever we saw each other, I think. Plus, millennia of sleeping with women does not prepare a man to handle a woman on an emotional level.”

“Then why are you here, Shayla?”

She turned to sit sideways on the bench. The wood hurt her ass. Getting up, she moved to a small patch of grass behind the bench. Shayla took a trip around a nearby lamppost and came back with a blanket. She spread it out and got comfortable. Wolfrik didn’t question her. He walked over and sat across from her on the edge of the blanket. Man, he was the most patient being in the universe.

“We think Min intentionally gave me his blood.”

Wolfrik’s calm mask slipped. “I need more details than that. Did he force you to drink it?”

She shook her head. “Actually, aside from him playing Big Bad when he arrived, Min behaved like a gentleman. But during the bloodletting, he missed the cup and splashed blood on my hand. I guess when I tried to stop the bleeding from my arm a little later, his blood mixed with mine. Neither of us noticed until after I got home and Deryck sensed something different about me.”

Wolfrik sat up on his knees and crept closer. “May I have your permission to touch you?”

“Touch how?”

“I need to lay my hands over your temples.”

Shayla scooted in so he wouldn’t have to reach so far. “Go for it.”

His hands cradled her head. They were warm, soothing the stress she felt, despite being asleep. Wolfrik smelled wonderful, a mix of pine forest and man. She understood all too well he’d been bred to be as appealing as possible. If he ever went to the human realm, women would eat him alive. Exotic looking men were all the rage in the US. No one wanted to date a man that looked like Joe Blow from next door. American women were bored with their own kind.

“You’re thinking too much. Focus on breathing and clear your mind for me, Shayla.”