Page 18 of Cerulean Truth (Sapere #1)

“How did you get to me so fast tonight?” I whispered, trying to convey as much thankfulness as possible into one short sentence.

His jaw flexed. “I portaled into the street, which only took me a second. It took me longer to find you in the bar than to actually get to the bar itself.”

Portaling. Using a portal through space. I’d seen enough science-fiction movies to kind of understand what it meant.

I groaned in defeat. “All right, so, let's suppose I decide to go with you, what happens to my life here? Do I have to sever all ties? With my parents? Friends? Can I still have a life here?” I posed these inquiries, fully aware of their importance but still, part of me was reluctant to hear the answers.

He scratched his neck before answering, carefully choosing his words.

“Nobody has ever asked these kinds of questions before. Usually the magi we find here are so young the bonds have never formed. Or they’re formed because both or one of the parents is a maga or magus themselves and they move to our Collective with the child.

So there’s no real precedent,” he concluded.

Precedent. A word I felt comfortable with. A word inducing a sense of familiarity and at the same time a rare form of pain. Would I still be a lawyer? The likelihood of it was diminishing with every second.

As we walked further together in silence, I turned away from James, hoping to conceal the despair slowly etching on my face while I mentally braced myself for the next question.

I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of uncertainty pressing down on me.

“James,” I began tentatively, my voice faltering, “If we assume I’m—” I paused, swallowing again,“—magically inclined, and my parents are not…does this…what does it…does this mean they’re not my real parents?” The words nearly choked me as they left my lips.

“Oh Emma,” he sighed, his expression betraying a flicker of concern as he gently took hold of my arm, turning me to face him.

“Absolutely not. It’s basic genetics, really.

Any talent for translation might have originated generations ago, like eye color or an aptitude.

You have magical abilities because you have the gene.

The gene can skip generations or be passed on by a parent or grandparent.

You could’ve just as easily inherited a gift for music.

Would you question your parentage simply because you possessed the ability to play the piano, if your parents didn't?"

His eyes stayed locked onto mine and a heavy weight lifted of my chest as I saw truth in them.

“Trust me, we encounter Humanborns whose strictly human parents are their biological ones all the time, I promise.”

I took a deep breath, a glimmer of hope piercing through the darkness of my doubts.

“Really?”

He hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering away briefly before returning to meet mine. Slowly, he nodded.

“Well, perhaps not all the time, but it’s not uncommon. Most Humanborns have one or two magi parent, but not always. And it certainly doesn’t mean that your parents wouldn’t be your biological ones.”

Okay. I could cling to that reassurance.

“Does it warrant a conversation? Should I confront my parents about it?” I pressed, feeling a surge of anxiety creeping in.

James shrugged. “You can’t reveal the truth about translation to them yet, but you could ask them directly about your parentage, if you wanted to.”

I nodded. “Okay, I’ll think about it.”

Not that I was particularly eager to broach the subject anyway. Deep down, I knew in my heart and bones that my parents were indeed mine biologically. I even bore a striking resemblance to them physically.

However, another thought nagged at my mind.

"What exactly is a Collective?" I asked, remembering his mention of Stephen gathering them all for a consensus.

“It’s like a city but made of people instead of a location. You can move an entire Collective to another part of the world, it would still be the same Collective.”

I made a mental note to question him about it later, but for now I had more pressing questions.

“So who decides whether I get to have a life outside your…Collective?”

“There’s a Council,” he answered. “I haven’t alerted them to your existence yet, as specifically requested by Stephen, but I think now would be the time.

As far as we know you have translated way less than anybody else at your age and when you have it was untraceable.

These are two very strange elements about you, leading up to a very late age at which you enter. ”

He sighed, then continued. “I will ask them to preserve as much as we can of your current life, I have no idea if they will but whatever you’ll need to do to integrate, the Council will help you get through it, as will I,” he stated reassuringly.

The thought of an unfamiliar Council dictating the course of my life ignited a sense of rebellion and indignation within me.

I grappled with the notion some unknown entity would determine what I could or couldn't do, which ran counter to my deeply ingrained principles of independence and self-reliance.

However, right when I was about to voice my objections, the haunting image of Kevin resurfaced in my mind, and I was immediately transported back to the gruesome bathroom, my hands covered in his blood.

The memory of his lifeless body intensified the stark realization, hitting me once again that I had inflicted serious harm upon another human being, and I had done so without understanding how or why.

As much as I wanted to resist it, there was no alternative—I had to learn how to control this.

I pushed my reluctance aside and nodded. James sighed, obviously relieved this time he got through my high and mighty walls. He squeezed my hand again briefly and I noticed the electricity between us rush through my entire body. It was exhilarating.

“Listen Emma.” James turned toward me, his gaze intensifying. “You have to understand, if Stephen and I are right about your translation proving untraceable, you can’t tell anyone about it. I’ll inform the Council of it, but no one else can know. Not until we’ve figured out the why and the how.”

My eyebrows pinched together. “Why not?”

James bit the inside of his cheek before replying. “It’s complicated. Can you just trust me on this? We’ll figure it all out as soon as possible, but for now, keep the whole thing between us.”

I considered his request. He wanted me to come to his Collective or whatever to get some answers but I couldn’t talk about it to others? It all seemed a little contradictory. Then again, the guy did just help me in covering up an attempted murder. I decided for now, trust was earned.

I nodded slowly. “Fine, I won’t mention it to anyone besides you and Stephen until you instruct me otherwise.”

James let out a breath, visibly relieved by my promise. I wanted to know one more thing.

“Can I see your phone?” I asked changing the subject quite abruptly.

“You want to see my Nexus?” he asked surprised.

“Sounds dirtier than I imagined but if that’s what you call your phone, yes I do.” I tried to joke. James didn’t laugh though. Boring brat.

His hand opened up empty. A second later, a small black circular device with an intricate spiral design at its core appeared, as if it had always been there.

“This is what we call a Nexus,” he explained, while I took it from his hand and examined it. The spiral pattern seemed to swirl, like it was alive with energy.

“How does it work?” I asked rather intrigued.

“It doesn’t if you’re the one holding it,” he said dryly. I gave him back his Nexus or whatever, rolling my eyes at him.

He kept it in his palm, and I watched in awe as James activated it with a simple touch. The sleek black device stirred to life, glowing with a soft, cerulean light that pulsed in time with his heartbeat.

My breath caught as multicolored lights began to spiral upward from the vortex at its center, shimmering in a display of vibrant energy. The droplets hovered delicately in the air, and I couldn’t look away, my eyes widening in wonder.

“Every color drop has a different use. Normally I’d only be able to do this if you had a Nexus on you as well, but being a man of my position, does come with quite some perks.”

“Do what, exactly?’ My eyebrows pinched, ignoring his arrogance while planning to ask about his so called “position” later on.

The drops over his hand rearranged. Then, an unexpected wave of emotions and sensations washed over me. I felt the warmth of his translation, the rush of excitement, and then the taste of his favorite dessert—Crème Brulé—which astounded me by the way, figured him for the cheesecake-type.

My eyes darted to his in surprise and delight. He almost smiled.

"Through the Nexus, we can share our thoughts, feelings, and experiences with each other," James explained. "It's a connection which goes beyond words, a bond uniting all magi around the globe."

I was thoroughly enjoying the lingering taste of his dessert and beamed at him.

"Incredible, right? Don't worry, nobody else can send you any sensation or communication without your Nexus. You'll receive yours when you come in; it will connect you to all the other magi on Earth."

I tried to stifle a yawn but failed miserably and James’s stare hardened. “Let’s get you to bed,” he ordered. “I think that’s enough for now. Your head must be spinning.”

I yawned again, that was putting it mildly.

As we made our way back to my apartment, James assured me he would confront the Council at the earliest opportunity.

“Ideally,” he added, “I’d do it together with Stephen, who can then explain why we haven’t brought you in yet.

But don’t worry, you go about your life as usual and I’ll come back for you,” he vowed.

I responded with a dazed nod as we walked in silence. Before I could even fully digest half of the information I had received, we were already standing in front of my building.

He took my hand in his and I was instantly wide awake. The early morning sun cast a gentle glow behind him, and highlighted his military-cut hair. He was undeniably breath-taking, so gorgeous it was borderline ridiculous, like something straight out of a magazine.

“Emma,” he murmured softly, changing his tone completely, and I leaned in not to miss a word, his amazing scent filling up my nose.

“Please be careful. You hurt someone else tonight but you could’ve as easily hurt yourself or even killed yourself.” His eyes never left mine. It felt as though he was conveying everything through that single, intense gaze. It was as if his penetrating look held all the answers I sought.

Returning his stare, I tried not to blink, as not to miss a second of his presence, but my eyes grew weary. I blinked only once, during which he’d vanished without uttering another word, leaving me standing there, alone. His absence left me feeling colder than ever before.