Page 70 of Cerulean Truth (Sapere #1)

THIRTY-SIX

JAMES

"James... James, wake up… JAMES!”

What the hell was happening?

I was finally fast asleep when I woke to someone banging on my door. I reluctantly jumped out of my bed and hurried to open up, only to find Enya at the other side.

“What the hell are you doing here at two am?” I bellowed furiously, my irritation slicing through the air.

She didn’t even glance at me, barely wavering at my tone, and slipped by me inside.

My jaw dropped in surprise as she began collecting my clothes from the chair I had thrown them on. “Get dressed. Emma left, and I have no idea where she went.”

Adrenaline fueled my sudden wakefulness. “What do you mean, Emma left?” I demanded, in an anger-induced voice.

“She just sent me a text! She’s at some club in the Human World, but she’s clearly out of her mind because the idiot forgot to tell me which one or its location. And now, I can’t reach her anymore,” she replied with clear concern in her voice.

She’s what?!

I knew I had pushed her too far that afternoon, but we weren’t making any progress and Emma was the kind of person who needed to be pushed; she told me so herself.

Fury and concern whirling through me as I hastily threw on my clothes, the fabric practically snapping with the force of my movements. I followed Enya outside my loft and toward Emma’s room, my worry intensifying with each step.

“How are we going to find her in the Human World?” she asked, her voice laced with uncertainty. “Her magic can’t be tracked there.” I stopped and turned around, giving her a severe look. How the hell did she know that?

“Emma told me, don’t worry. Her secrets are safe with me,” she explained impatiently.

“Fuck,” I grumbled, feeling the blood freeze in my veins. "When I return, we're having a serious conversation about that!"

Enya's only response was a disdainful roll of her eyes. Though not pleased with her reaction, I decided to shelf my frustration for the moment. One issue at a time.

"All right," I continued, "We can’t track her so we'll have to find her the old-fashioned way. The non-magical way," I clarified, when I saw Enya’s brow rise.

As we entered Emma's room, I could feel the lingering energy from her Nexus. I conjured up my own, asking it to replicate whatever activity she’d done on hers.

"What are you doing?" Enya asked, her expression one of shock.

"We can't afford to be overly concerned about her privacy if we want to find out where she went," I snapped, ignoring Enya’s glare. She could glare herself to death for all I cared.

How the fuck could she be so stupid? Going out on her own while every Radical in the world was looking for her? Sure, she didn’t know the extent of the organization behind the attack on her life, but still.

I tried to ignore the inner voice chewing me out for withholding information about the “he” behind the Radicals who was clearly after Emma. I couldn't shake the thought that if I’d shared more about how they were targeting her, Emma might have assessed the risks more accurately.

But I’d kept it from her, and now she found herself in the Human World without any protection, with no way of finding her and with Radicals chasing her on some mysterious mission.

The yellow drops from my Nexus started to generate an image of a club. When its name appeared, "The FUSE" I created my green portal without another look at Enya.

"Wait!" Enya yelled, concern etched on her face. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to get her back. I only hope she didn't get stuck inside her portal," I muttered angrily.

"What should I do?" she asked, visibly agitated. Looking at her, I saw the genuine concern she had for Emma. I touched her arm lightly in a comforting gesture.

"Don't worry, I'll bring her back. You just make sure nobody finds out she's missing. Can you do that?"

She nodded affirmatively. I gave her a quick nod and jumped through, seething with frustration over Emma's recklessness. This girl was so fucking stubborn. A few times portaling with me and she thought she was an expert now? Was she insane?

Within seconds, I found myself standing before a dodgy club with green letters, reading "the USE." The F had fallen off.

"Really?" I mumbled to myself. "This is what you're going for on your night out?"

Despite my disbelief, I couldn't help but be slightly impressed little miss lawyer girl hadn’t opted for a limo and a VIP party at a Four Seasons Hotel. I navigated my way through “security,” fervently hoping she was still inside.

I raced down the stairs leading into a basement where booming, resonant bass pulsed through the entire structure.

I yanked the massive metal door open, revealing a greenish lit darkroom with at least three hundred people, all moving synchronized—jumping and dancing, most of them clearly high on some human intoxicating substance.

"Gods, Emma, what the fuck are you doing in a place like this?" I grumbled, stalking forward.

I focused on my urge to find her as quickly as possible, projecting a haze in less 0.

1 second, which instantly surrounded the crowd like a fog.

It nudged me upstairs, and relief washed over me as I sensed her presence.

I leaped up to the balcony, and spotted her dancing, encircled by at least six guys. Fucking. Awesome.

Clenching my fist, I stifled the desire to rip their heads off, thinking multiple human murders would probably attract too much unwanted attention.

Within seconds, I found myself by her side, gripping her arm. She opened her eyes, looking at me in shock. "James?" she squeaked. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"What the hell are you doing here?" I hissed, gritting my teeth, but as I studied her face, I noticed something off—she looked weird.

I frowned. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing!” She breathed out sharply, pulling back her arm.

I narrowed my eyes. Her eyes were unfocused, and her pupils were dilated. Wait, what... was she high on ecstasy?

Holy fuck, was she insane? I had been incessantly warning her about losing control over her emotions, about the potential harm to herself and others, and here she was, taking drugs which would precisely make her lose control over, what was it again?? Oh yeah, her fucking emotions !

"Are you high on X?" I spat, rage consuming me.

She nodded, displaying no signs of remorse or shame. Seriously, this girl would be the death of me.

“You’ve got to be kidding me Emma, are you fucking insane?” I snarled.

She giggled in response.

She. Giggled.

It took every ounce of self-control not to let my rage-haze, which was rearing its ugly head at full speed, take over. But when I ordered her to leave with me, she shook her head, seemingly oblivious to the gravity of the situation. Motherf…

"I have to feel something, James," she pleaded, desperation lacing her words, "something so overwhelming that I can't shut it out.

And ecstasy is…." Her eyes glazed over, the unfinished explanation hanging in the air.

Clearly forgetting she broke off her sentence, she chewed her gum ostentatiously, kissed my cheek, hugged me, and danced away.

I blinked three times and stayed behind, baffled. It took me almost a full minute to recover from her unexpected reaction.

Following her quickly through the club, my hand shot out to grab her arm again, the intensity of my grip reflecting the fury churning in my gut.

"You're coming home with me, right now. This isn't the way to figure it out. Every guy in the room is eyeing you.” Seriously, who wears a dress that short in fucking December?

“If anything happens here, you could easily repeat the bathroom incident, or even worse. Is that what you want?" I snapped, my words laced with anger.

Her already wide eyes widened, even more than they already were.

“Emma, I’m not fucking around, you’re in more danger than you know. Just please…” I took in a deep breath, filling my longs with as much oxygen as I could, trying to calm myself down, “I’m saying please. Come home with me.”

I wasn’t begging but the intention was clear. I locked my eyes with hers and tried to convey as much worry and honesty as I could. Whatever she saw in them, finally swayed her and she nodded, albeit reluctantly. Hallelujah.

We moved briskly, exiting the club not even five minutes later, the urgency in our steps matching the turmoil in my mind.

Back outside, a winter’s chill enveloped everything in its icy grasp, biting at exposed skin and turning each breath into a visible cloud.

"Where's your jacket?" I asked, eyeing the goosebumps on her arms and the rest of her scant outfit.

It didn't leave much to the imagination, and I suddenly had a very hard time concentrating on the task at hand: Get.

Her. Home. I had to actively tell my brain to focus on anything else than her very uncovered body.

"I didn't bring any," she shivered. I muttered a string of curses under my breath, conjuring up a warm jacket of mine which was way too big on her. She stared up at me thankfully, looking too adorable in it. Fuck, this woman and her effect on me.

"Thank you for coming to get me." She moved in closer.

Even coming out of a smoky club all sticky and sweaty, she still smelled amazing, and I had to remind myself she wasn't sober.

I took a step back, keeping my distance, but my eyes never left hers.

Until her gaze shifted to some movement behind me and her eyes widened in angst.

"What?" I asked alarmed as she pointed her finger behind me.

I turned around quickly to find seven military-lookalikes closing in on us. Resistants, possibly Radicals, all staring at Emma and not even glancing at me.

Fuck.

"You're James Walker." Their spokesman declared, still fixating on Emma with an unsettling intensity.

My mind raced, processing the gravity of the situation. Seven hostiles closing in, and they weren't here for a casual chat. Resistants, Radicals—whatever they were, they had their sights set on Emma, and my instincts screamed danger.