Page 11 of Cerulean Truth (Sapere #1)

All of a sudden, like there was some kind of signal, she straightened up, pursed her lips, swiped her hair from her face, and crossed her legs.

She squinted her eyes, and unshakable arrogance started oozing out of her like nobody's business. However anxious she’d seemed before, the more composed she appeared to be all of a sudden.

I didn't know squat about her, but right then and there, I could tell she was putting on her "I'm a lawyer, and I'm here to win" face.

“I don’t have to tell you anything. But,” she responded coldly, “you expressed a desire for discussion. So please, proceed at your discretion.”

Stephen cleared his throat, obviously unsure how to handle a situation like this…and a girl like her—woman, she was all woman. He leaned over the table toward her but she pulled away, like she thought she would burn at his touch.

“Well Emma,” Stephen spoke in a very calming voice, “as I said, we’re only here to help you. I told you what you are, what you can do, and now we need to make some decisions and plans for the future.”

Emma rolled her eyes at him, a reaction he chose to ignore—which made him the bigger man, whereas I was getting more than annoyed by her attitude.

I took in a deep breath, reminding myself not to lose my patience.

“It is most pertinent you come with us immediately so we can teach you our ways and protect you,” he continued.

“Protect me?” She scoffed. “Protect me from what exactly?”

“Well,” I interjected trying my best to sound as patient as I could in light of her disrespectful tone toward Stephen, “mostly from yourself.”

“I believe I have managed quite capably over the past twenty-three years without availing myself of your services,” she bit.

I raised a brow.

“Furthermore, I am inclined to believe I do not require the guidance of a man to discern my own needs and preferences.”

Seriously? She was turning this in a “You’re a man, don’t tell me what to do” situation? As if telling someone they’re in possession of magic and might hurt people, could ever be construed as “mansplaining.”

“Don’t be absurd,” I shot back, less calmly than I anticipated.

“You know damn well that’s not what’s happening here.

We're here, putting our own necks on the line, not only risking our lives by talking to you, but also jeopardizing our reputations, which, where we come from, is no small matter, I might add. And instead of being thankful, you’re not even willing to hear us out, when all we want to do is help you. ”

“Well, I don’t need your help,” she hissed. “So you may return to your cave or wherever you come from and save the rest of what I’m sure is a very respectable and magical reputation.”

I could hear the obvious mocking in her voice, which aggravated me even more. Her aggressive streak was kind of hot but it also put a definitive end to my patience.

The fuck is her problem?

We were only trying to help this maddeningly stubborn woman, and she was acting like we were the enemy. Especially toward Stephen, who deserved more than her respect, considering everything he was risking to come and talk to her.

But before I could answer, Stephen grabbed her hand and threw her a pleading look with such intensity, her eyes widened.

“Emma please,” he implored her, “you have no idea in what kind of danger you are, nor what danger you put your loved ones in, every second you stay here untrained.”

This made her flinch, but only for a second. However, a split second was enough for me to see a little more clearly through her whole confident charade, recognizing it as a pathetic attempt to hide her fears, maybe even some overwhelming feelings of panic.

She took back her hand, leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms again, still hostile and defensive.

As long as she kept her guard up, it remained impossible to really talk to her, and with her arms crossed in front of her, I couldn’t see her cleavage.

I had to somehow get her to lower her walls, for the sake of the conversation.

“Think about your car-accident Emma, please. You know your life was in danger, you know you saw the car coming and you know you jumped. Now please, tell us if you remember ever being in danger before and reacting similarly or encountering some other form of weirdness, an emotion, translated to something inexplicable. Has anything ever happened to you, you couldn’t explain? ” Stephen asked urgently.

“No,” she answered too quickly but I noticed her eyes softening a little when she turned to Stephen to answer his question. I took that small opportunity to try to penetrate her shield.

“Think a little harder,” I suggested. I couldn’t mask the harshness in my tone, but all the harshness in the world would not sway this woman.

A “dirty” smile played around her lips and a disdainful look took place in her eyes, like she were talking to a child who was trying to convince her the Easter Bunny was threatening her life.

“I don’t have to think harder when I know the answer,” she snarled, clearly ticked off by every word I said. I swore under my breath, her oh so high and mighty tone was starting to trigger my anger.

I pushed it down quickly, fisting and relaxing my hand under the table.

“Emma, we really mean you no harm, we simply need you to realize you are one of us , a maga , and I know this is all very confusing,” Stephen continued softly, “but you know what happened with your car-accident, or better what didn’t happen, was because of your translation, your powers.

You can’t keep pretending that didn’t happen.

You jumped over the car, and in doing so, you saved your own life,” he reminded her.

“But,” he continued before she could interject, “in doing so, you could’ve harmed someone else.

You were very lucky this time, but next time, you could crash the car against a building, killing dozens of people instead of just jumping over it.

You have no idea what you’re doing, Emma, and it’s…

well, unsafe is the polite term, but I really mean to say that it’s deadly,” he concluded.

She shifted uneasily on her chair, clearly uncertain how to respond to his very well-meant warning. She bit her bottom lip, and I noticed how full her lips were. I clenched my jaw and dragged my eyes away from her lips to my cup of coffee, as we waited patiently for her to speak.

“Okay,” she said decidedly and we sighed in relief; at least she was engaging in conversation with us.

“What I am keen to ascertain is whether the reality of this situation is indeed as it appears. My accident, which possibly resulted in a head injury, has left me pondering the veracity of this conversation. To put it plainly, are you guys a figment of my imagination? Am I in a coma somewhere and dreaming all of this?”

Stephen sighed disappointedly but responded firmly. “I can safely promise you, Emma, this is not happening in your head. We are really here, and we are trying to talk to you about the very unusual situation you are in,” he declared firmly.

To my own disappointment, my eyes strayed back to Emma's body while he was busy talking to her, mainly fixating on her face, which I couldn't help but enjoy studying. I was on the lookout for any tiny sign, anything that would suggest she wasn't as aggravating as she made herself out to be.

She had been visibly more relaxed since I had kept myself in the background of the conversation. Her legs remained crossed, her lips still pursed, and she sat up like a poker straight stick, but her arms were no longer folded tightly in front of her.

As the conversation went on, her breathing gradually settled into a regular rhythm, and with each inhale, her chest gently rose. She had on a blazer and a blouse, but her blazer was wide open, and through her blouse, I couldn't help but catch a glimpse of the red lace bra she had on underneath.

For fuck’s sakes, James, focus.

“Fine,” she declared. “Then I regret to inform you I am not inclined to manifest any sincere interest in the product or service you are offering. Firstly, I hold a strong skepticism toward the concept of magic or translation as you seem to call it. In this modern era, with our extensive technological advancements and wealth of knowledge, any existence of magic would surely be widely acknowledged. Secondly, even if I were to entertain the possibility, which remains highly doubtful,” she continued, “I have decided, it does not matter.”

I arched my brow, already bracing for whatever explanation she was about to throw my way. I had a gut feeling she was going to test my patience yet again, and she didn't disappoint.

“I realize the notion of possessing magical abilities might enthuse some, if not many individuals,” she said.

“I on the other hand could not care less. I am more than content with my current life, career, and the presence of my friends and family; these aspects suffice for me. Consequently, whatever purpose has brought you here to proffer your offerings, I must politely decline,” she finished, smiling, as if she was content with herself to have handled the situation.

“Yeah…that’s not how this works,” I said wryly, staring at her in irritation, mainly originating from her ability to use twenty words when one sufficed.

It was crystal clear she had zero clue about the level of danger she and everyone around her would be in if she didn't wise the fuck up.

Also, I couldn't help but pick up on the fact a boyfriend was not on that list of hers.

Why that stuck in my mind, I couldn't quite figure.

Stephen cleared his throat again.