Page 77 of Cerulean Truth
I shrugged. “Or we could just kill them on sight. Problem solved.”
Maurice coughed and Maria straightened her back as her gaze hardened. “I know you’re technically still our First Offensive James, but by now, I expect you to think like a Leader, not like a brainless killing machine.”
My nostrils flared but suppressing a retort, I nodded curtly. "Fine. What's your plan?"
Maria looked at me a little uncertainly. “Well uhm, I was thinking maybe we could put a trace on them, track where they go, maybe see if they meet up with any Resistants of our own Collective...”
“You want to track magi inside a Collective?” Maurice gasped. “That’s illegal, not to mention immoral. There’s a ‘constitutional freedom of movement’ within each Collective for a reason! I do not like the sound of it at all. The “WeversusThem” is already getting out of control and we’ve barely gathered any intel on their intentions, let alone actions.”
“You’re sounding more like an Orator than a Councilmember right now, Maurice; you realize they could be dangerous, a risk to our international security and peace? There’s a reason they came in without clearance, so we’re allowed to track them if they break the law,” Maria said rather forcefully.
“And tracking their translation would be what exactly? A peace-offering? An olive branch? I think it’ll be fuel to the fire, a fire we need to extinguish sooner than later,” he replied with equal force
“Why don’t you bubble in Cyclos, like you did in Antwerp? Preventing their escape without our permission,” I suggested swiftly, ignoring the headache their bickering was igniting.
“James is right; they’re not proven Radicals. If we treat them as such without indication, they’ll slip even further away from us. We must try not to polarize… A bubble is a good compromise.” Maurice looked meaningfully at his wife.
“Fine,” she said grudgingly. “I’ll bubble Cyclos in, and we won’t put a trace on them, but I want you,” she said, pointing at me, “to converse with them and try to reason with them to get behind the consensus.” There was some definite heat in her eyes.
"I'll do what's necessary," I affirmed. “I will even join the search party and lead the Offensives if you like.”
Maria waved away my suggestion swiftly, “That won’t be necessary, but you’ll be kept informed of the first response. I’ll see to it.” She marched away without saying goodbye.
Maurice glanced at me while I observed his wife stomping off.
“You’ll make a fine leader, James,” he winked. “Anyone who can get my wife to back down, is of exceptional character.”
“Well, I had a little help.”
Maurice laughed and clapped me on the back. “Go now, have fun, young friend. We’ll keep you posted.” He turned around and left me standing there alone.
I sighed defeated, knowing that interaction was probably the most fun I would have the entire night. As I watched the who’s who of magi society mingling, I realized surviving the evening without copious amounts of alcohol would be near to impossible.
The crowd here was overly fashionable and elitist and maybe I should have been impressed, but somehow, I was mainly...bored. The Offensive side of me resisted doing well atthese functions. I tried my best to conform to the expectations set forth for a Leader, but fuck me, did they have to be so dull?
I was sipping at my second glass of champagne when she walked in.
Emma.
I practically spat my champagne back in the glass. What the hell? How was she here? And why? She wasn’t a Leader nor Specialist. Hell, she was hardly a maga at all at this point.
But my musings about her unexpected appearance were quickly drowned out by a flood of other thoughts, as my eyes roamed freely up and down her body. My throat tightened, and I was suddenly parched to the bone. I tried to look away but the blue cocktail dress she was wearing—which hugged her curves, showed off her tanned legs and accentuated her daring cleavage—made that impossible.My breath caught in my throat as I took in her beauty, her elegance and that ever-present hint of defiance.Fuck me.
When she caught me staring a few inches below her face, I braced myself for a flash of anger. But to my surprise, she responded with a crooked smile and a flirty wink.
Did she really just wink at me?
She picked up a glass of champagne, and without another thought, I started to make my way to her. Like a predator, closing in on its prey, I walked over slowly, my eyes never leaving hers. As I neared, I could see her lips part slightly and I noticed a subtle hitch in her breath. She was clearly as affected by whatever this was between us, as I was.
As calm and composed as I had been in the face of a threat breaching our Layers, as nervous I felt about approaching her. My heart was racing and adrenaline was coursing through my veins but before I could reach her, a woman named something unmemorable grabbed my arm and started introducing me to someone else unmemorable.
I remained polite and kept up with the conversation but my eyes stayed glued to Emma as she waded through the room. I observed her as she engaged with a few people I knew. I saw her talking to Philip (which annoyed me for no particular reason), and after a while, I watched as she walked over to Jackson. I should’ve been glad she was blending in so well, and honestly, I was. But when she started talking to Jackson, it got under my skin. Actually, it bothered me to no fucking end.
I wasn’t jealous. Why would I have been? Not like it was Matthew, who considered himself such a player, he’d probably try to put the moves on her. This was Jackson. Who was a friendly, intelligent man with whom Emma had actually a lot in common as she’d been a lawyer in a previous life and he was basically the magi-version of that. So of course, they should talk. And I wasn’t jealous. I wasn’t.
But, when I saw them engaging in what was obviously more than just a polite chat, I did wonder. I mean, they were laughing and shit. How does a polite chat turn into friendly banter? And when does banter between two people become flirting?
The notion of them flirting hadn’t fully registered before my feet were already in motion. Emma laughed again and touched Jackson’s arm. My jaw clenched and I crossed the room in two large strides, now standing next to them, ready to bring up my fist to my best friend’s teeth.
