Page 17 of Cerulean Truth
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,amaga,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 serviceyou 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.
“Emma,” he pressed, “Unfortunately we are not here to offer you a job or anything like that, we are not here to offer you anything you can refuse. We are here because we want to make it clear you have powers, and that having these powers to translate poses certain risks, not only to yourself but also to those around you. We can teach you to handle these powers, which will take a certain amount of time and energy. It will be a full-timeoccupation during the coming years…” He tried to explain it to her as carefully as he could but frankly, I thought he was way too gentle with her and I had to restrain myself not to start yelling.
She shook her head again. “I’m very sorry but I’m not interested, my career is all consuming and I do not have the time to work ‘on my magic’ in my non existing free time,” she said in a demeaning tone. “Even in the event your assertions hold validity, it is worth noting this so-called translation you speak of, merely served the purpose of preserving my life.”
This woman was testing my limits.
“I mean if ‘it’ only comes out when my life’s in danger, I really see no reason to comply with your request,” she concluded.
In that moment I realized two important things. One, she seemed way too confident about her translation kicking in solely during life-or-death scenarios, which made me certain she'd been down that road before but was refusing to tell us.
Two, she had gotten more under my skin in those thirty minutes than anyone had ever done before, and my patience was wearing thin. Her obstinate refusal to understand what we were trying to tell her, combined with her arrogance, was annihilating the last straw of patience I was holding on to. I was about ready to drag her across the room and spank her in the bathroom. Hell, with that kind of attitude, I would’ve done it then and there.
In a fit of frustration, I nearly hissed through my teeth. "I don't give a damn about what you want or don't want. Your career as a lawyer is toast. You're more than two decades behind in your maga training, and you're fucking lucky your powers haven't hurt anyone, including yourself. There's no way to be sure you'll only translate in life-or-death situations, and there's one way this convo is going to play out.”
I paused shortly for effect. “You're quitting your job, saying your goodbyes to friends and family, and coming with us to start your training pronto. It's about keeping yourself and everyoneyou give a damn about safe. If you don't cooperate, we're going to make you come home and in the worst-case scenario, we'll take you out to safeguard the world from your uncontrollable, spiraling magic," I stressed the last part with as much conviction as I could muster.
I wasn't exactly sure what I hoped to achieve by threatening her life. Maybe I was trying to be as ruthless and biting as I could, trying to break through her shell even a little bit. But her expression didn't waver, not even a flicker of reaction to my not-so-subtle threats. She simply gazed right back at me, silence hanging in the air. Then, a smile tugged at her lips, but it was far from genuine. It didn't reach her eyes, held no warmth—it was more like a warning, as if she was telling me not to push my luck with her. And fuck, if that wasn’t hot.
Then she surprised me by completely ignoring me, turning her head only to Stephen and shaking his hand.
"I am very sorry to disappoint you," she said facing him, “but I cannot do what you are asking of me.” She got up and made ready to leave.
I wanted to threaten her more, tell her again how we would take her forcefully if she was not willing to come with us, but Stephen, anticipating my reaction, grabbed her wrist and pleaded desperately once more:
“Wait! Emma, you’re making a mistake; you have to think this through. Now your magic has manifested, it will come out more often. Youwillend up hurting the people you love because you’ve never learned how to be in control of this.”
She paused, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.
Stephen continued swiftly. “Look, I’m not going to be here for the next few days, but James is nearby. At least take his phone number. Just think about it, and if you want to talk, call him. Don’t hesitate. Please understand how important thisis.” He was pleading with her, again. He knew if she wouldn’t comply, I had no choice but to report her to the Council.
