“If you think that answer will discourage my curiosity, you’re sadly mistaken.” In the hopes that it would help him better understand her, he inspected her closely, looking for clues as to who and what she was. Yet somehow, he couldn’t seem to read a single one of her thoughts—beyond the ones showing on her scowling face. “If I say ‘please,’ will you explain yourself?”
“No,” she said as her bus pulled to a stop in front of them and she took her phone from her coat pocket.
“Give me something,” he insisted, following her onto the bus, ignored by the driver who glanced at her phone for her fare. She tried to stop him sitting next to her by taking an aisle seat, but he simply took the one across from it, crossing one leg over the other and keeping his eyes trained on her. “Just a hint, and I’m sure I can take it from there.”
“Don’t you have anything better to do than follow me across the city?” she sighed, her ramrod-straight posture only accentuating her righteous indignation.
“Not at all. You have my full attention, miss…?” She looked at him coldly before dragging her gaze toward the front windshield instead. Left without an answer, he proposed a trade: “My name is Cassius Black.”
“No, it isn’t,” the woman said, and he laughed.
“Fair enough. Nytep, then.” The truth, but not all of it.
“I really didn’t ask,” she replied, unfortunately unaware that her derision was only entertaining him more.
“No, I offered. This is generally how introductions begin, isn’t it? Only now you’ve left me waiting for a response.”
“And you can keep waiting. Or you can give up. I suggest the latter.” Her hands lay atop the books in her lap, folded tightly and betraying her discomfort.
“What have I done to offend you? Did I say something wrong?” he asked. “You dismissed me before I could finish a sentence.”
“You’re an immortal. That on its own is enough reason not to trust you. And even if it weren’t, I saw you at that ‘protest,’ inciting hate against witches,” she pointed out. “It doesn’t surprise me in the slightest that one of you could be so blithe about condemning an entire group of mortals.”
Nytep raised an eyebrow. “Are you a witch?” She had no Familiar that he could see, but it might explain why she perceived him as she did.
“No, but I’m still disgusted by the way people treat them. And I’m going to guess you were there to encourage it.”
Very perceptive, indeed. “Those are some drastic assumptions you’re making!” he said, feigning indignation. “I was only there to observe.”
“And you needed to be in front of everyone to ‘observe’?”
“I was observing closely,” he insisted. This woman was nothing if not quick, which turned the conversation from a measured exchange to a rapid-fire volley. Fortunately, an argument was much more his speed. “It’s a common prejudice, as you must know, so I’m trying to learn more about the motivations behind it.”
“So, what? Mind-reading?” Her eyes snapped back toward him. Despite her hard gaze, despite her visible disdain, her facial features were otherwise very soft. An interesting contrast.
“Something like that,” he conceded, admitting to the lesser crime to draw her away from the extent of his meddling.
“Then if you’re so curious about me, why aren’t you reading my mind?” she demanded.
“It’s harder to do when the subject is aware and consciously resisting.” But he knew that wasn’t the case here. Resistance was one thing, but it was utterly impossible to get an accurate read on what was going through this woman’s mind. Something about her was patently different from most other mortals.
“The ‘subject,’” she scoffed. “You sit there talking about us as if we’re a science experiment, and you have the nerve to ask what you did wrong.”
Spot-on once again, and his interest in her was only growing. This close, he now noticed a distinct scent of peppermint about her person. Everything about her was distinctive and noteworthy, it seemed. Distinctive enough to make an impression that most simply couldn’t.
“You say ‘us,’ as if you’re the same as them,” he said, gesturing to the other occupants of the bus who were completely unaware of his presence. “If you were, I wouldn’t be making such an effort to win you over—and rest assured, I will eventually.”
The mystery woman set her jaw and pushed her round glasses higher up the bridge of her nose. “Ask any immortal who’s ever met me, and you’ll learn that’s not as simple as you might think.”
“Then it’s a good thing I’m not just ‘any immortal.’”
“Please. Every one of you acts like you’re ‘special’ compared to all the rest. Like you think you’ll be the one to surprise me. It hasn’t happened yet. I have literally met hundreds of you people over the years, and they’ve all been exactly what I expected. Do you know why?” She didn’t have an unpleasant voice, he was beginning to notice. Her diction was sharp and precise, each word a blade to cut through his friendly airs. If she was willing to talk, even to lecture him, he was willing to listen.
“Please, enlighten me,” he agreed.
“Because they all think I exist for nothing but their entertainment. They see me as a challenge, not as a person. A puzzle to be solved, so they can say they won me over. So far, you are just like any of them.”
That was why she was so jaded, then. She hadn’t explained why she was pursued in the first place, but it did give him some indication of how to differentiate himself from ‘them.’ Feigning contrition, he sat back in his seat, giving her her space.
“I understand.” His voice had lost much of its unctuous charm to instead be laced with regret and politeness. “Please. Will you tell me your name? I’m not asking for anything else. Only your name, and I’ll leave you be.”
“For now,” she added.
“For now,” he agreed. She didn’t speak again, instead opening one of her books to start reading from the beginning, not sparing him even a passing glance. He waited a minute before accepting that she wouldn’t answer and tilting his head back to look up at the ceiling. “I see. That’s fine. I’ll leave it here for the time being. But I’m sure this won’t be the last time we meet.”
He gave her one more chance to change her mind, though she was apparently too stubborn to do so. But it was already much too late for the silent treatment to dampen his interest in her. Even as he got up to exit the bus at the next stop, he was already wondering where he would have to look to run into her again, having completely forgotten his original reason for being there.
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