Page 28 of Cerulean Truth (Sapere #1)

TWELVE

JAMES

Emma and I found ourselves in an unfamiliar place, our hands tightly clasped as we sprinted through a dark alley.

I urged her to move faster, my voice tinged with panic as we fled an unseen threat.

Inadvertently, I released her hand, turning back to check on her.

She was gasping for air, already struggling.

“Hurry up, Emma, they’re right behind us!” I urged her while my own anxiety started seeping through. “We have to go faster.” She nodded, attempting to pick up her pace, but I could sense her growing weary.

“Resist it, Emma!” I shouted, desperation creeping into my voice.

“Resist whatever you’re feeling and run as fast as you can!

” I pulled her by the arm, trying to move her, but she remained motionless.

Lifting her onto my back didn’t work either; it was as if she had become weightless, slipping through my grasp.

What the fuck is happening?

I wanted to yell more instructions, but my voice caught in my throat, and I couldn’t breathe. All I managed to whisper was, “Jump.”

In the blink of an eye, we found ourselves in a vast, open field, miles away from the menacing alley. There was nothing in our vicinity except for the two of us. Emma was breathing heavily, tears brimming in her eyes, and I wrapped my arms around her, attempting to comfort her.

“We’re alone now, you’re safe,” I murmured, an immense feeling of relief coursing through me. Relief that she was near. And safe.

She squeezed me playfully, and an exceptional, carefree, joyous laugh bubbled from my lips.

I gazed at her, the sun dancing on her hair, highlighting shades I had never seen before.

I brushed a few errant strands from her face, savoring the touch.

A gentle breeze carried her wonderful scent to my nose, and I inhaled deeply.

I needed more. More of her.

Softly taking her chin between my thumb and finger, I turned her head so her eyes would meet mine.

I sensed her closeness resonate through my entire being.

It felt as though I were the center of her universe, like she was the center of mine.

She made me feel alive; she was the reason I wanted to live.

She was everything, and I existed for her. Nothing else mattered.

Our eyes locked, our faces drew closer, and our lips were nearly grazing in a tantalizing promise when, out of nowhere, a fleet of massive military tanks materialized, their formidable guns aimed squarely at us. Panic coursed through me.

Nemecis.

I had to get her away from the danger, I needed to get Emma to safety but before I could summon a portal to whisk us out of there?—

I woke up in my bed, drenched in sweat.

Alone. Breathing hard, as if I’d just finished running a marathon.

What the actual fuck…

I stole a glance at my alarm clock; its glowing digits nearly blinding my tired eyes. Seven in the morning. I had overslept by a whole hour. That hadn't happened to me...well, ever.

That dream, the haunting fear gripping my chest for her safety, the overwhelming surge of emotions—what the hell was that?

I took a few deep breaths and got out of bed, translating myself some coffee and a protein bar.

As I dressed, I tried to push Emma from my thoughts, focusing instead on the tasks ahead.

Matthew tried to nex me but I ignored him. My mind was still reeling with thoughts of Emma. I looked down and noticed my morning wood was not going down. Gods, a cold shower was obviously due before I could face the world.

Ever since meeting that woman, something had been fucked up in my brain. It was as if she had taken up permanent residence inside my head, infiltrating my nightly dreams, even sometimes creating daydreams and it was fucking tiresome.

I retrieved my Nexus, half-hoping to find a message from her, something to explain my subconscious fixation on her, but no such luck.

The disappointment cut deep, and not only because it meant no explanation for the dream.

Three days later.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Every punch I landed on the heavy bag released a sliver of my anger.

After dreaming about Emma two nights in row, I had woken up that morning after revisiting the same nightmare which had haunted me since childhood.

The fire. My mom's tears streaking down her cheek. The relentless screaming and agony. It was all there. Always the same, yet somehow always a little different. My subconscious had a knack for keeping my personal torment thrillingly fresh.

Then, I had transitioned from one nightmare into another, this time centered around the infuriatingly stubborn lawyer. Again.

No matter how hard I hit the bag, the dream's scenes continued to torment me.

At least it was not the one about saving her from darkness in an unknown alley or about kissing her, thank fuck.

No, this one was about the wonders of Emma’s attempt at recreating the scene from Carrie at the prom, turning it into her own version of Emma in the bathroom. The memories of that night kindled a feeling in my gut I hadn't felt in years.

I kept pounding the bag in front of me, hoping the physical pain would drown out the emotional wreckage threatening to explode.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

I shook my head, attempting to banish the haunting images which kept flashing before my eyes. All the ways that night could have gone differently. What if she hadn't translated when the guy attacked her in the bathroom?

I tried to punch out the promise of hurt she would’ve gone through.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

If she hadn't translated…if she hadn't been able to defend herself against that asshole, he would've...

Fuck!

I punched a hole through the bag. I was breathing too hard.

Quickly fixing the heavy bag, I resumed my rhythmic release of frustration.

"I heard about the granny." A voice came up behind me, interrupting my train of thought.

I grunted, brushing off the ageist insult which often came at Humanborns who entered Cyclos after the age of three. I'd been called "gramps" until I was eight.

"Want to explain to me how you found her in the Human World, translating, without the LiaPrism having registered it?" the voice pressed.

"Not really," I mumbled, trying to block him out.

Eliot let out a sigh. "James, I'm on your side, you know that, but the Council is going berserk. Maria insists you want her to maintain her human connections while she's training here."

I attempted to ignore him, but my punches were getting sloppier by the second.

"You understand that's impossible, right?"

Damn it. I’d punched another hole through the bag. Instead of fixing it this time, I turned to my friend, pinning him down with an icy stare.

"Yeah, I get it," I snapped.

“Do you really? Because the Council is under the impression you might want to go behind their back and have Emma keep whatever human life possible when she arrives.”

I snorted. “Really? And why would the Council suspect me of such betrayal?”

Eliot squinted. “Don’t bullshit me James, you might have the Council fooled with your honorable rule-abiding crap, but we’ve been friends since long before you were ever elected our next Leader. And I damn well know, if you don't want to follow these ridiculous rules, you won't.”

I crossed my arms and arched a brow. "Are you saying you find the rules regarding Emma ridiculous?"

Eliot took a deep breath. "Honestly, I wish I could, but I understand Maria's point of view.

Traceability of translation is probably the most critical selling point we have to convince humans to accept us.

They won't have to fear us this way, they can set any law they want on when and how we translate, knowing we'll have to follow because they'll know if we don't. Emma endangers all of that, and you know it.

We're way too close to the Great Exposure right now to take on such a risk. "

The anger simmered at his words but I could recognize the truth in them. Hell, it was exactly what I’d thought the first time Stephen had come to me. So why was I so adamant to refute it now?

“I don’t see how Emma keeping her human connections screws any of that up,” I replied stubbornly, ignoring the voice of reason lurking in the back of my mind.

But Eliot knew me too well. “Yes, you do.” He smiled. “Which is why I’m going to ignore any rule-breaking that would occur.”

I blinked. What?

Eliot smirked knowingly. “Oh come on, I know exactly how you think. You’ll allow her to visit and you’ll join her every time.

But because I know you know what’s at stake, I want you to know I won’t report it.

I have Maria’s back on her point of view, but I have yours any way. I just wanted you to know that.”

He turned around before I could reply. Not that I was particularly feeling the need to open up to him. Though I could appreciate the effort he was making….

“Eliot,” I called, making him halt before he left the training room.

“Thank you.” I nodded.

He shot me half a smile, some unrecognizable emotion flashing in his eyes. Probably something akin to sheer shock from hearing me say those two little words.