Page 16 of Cerulean Truth
“You have no idea what I’m thinking,” she snapped, crossing her arms in front of her. I cocked a brow in surprise. Damn, that woman had some walls up.
“Okay, so tell me,” I murmured soothingly, trying to shift the conversation's tone, not fazed by her hostility one bit. However, she continued to stay silent, her angry gaze still locked onto us without a single blink.
Taking a sip of my coffee, I studied her face. Her expression hardened under my assessing stare, which struck me as both absurd and kind of refreshing. Absurd because we were there solely for her benefit, yet secretly I admired her determination to make us work for it.
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. Andinstead 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 tosomething 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.
