Blood Magic by Tessa Gratton Page A

was too perfect an opportunity to pass up. I stopped. When she realized, she did, too, and turned to me with eyebrows raised. I took one step, let go of her hand, and put both of mine under her jaw. I kissed her.
    Just a gentle press of lips, to gauge her reaction. I could smell her makeup, powdery and light. Her lipstick tasted vaguely of sweet, sharp fruit.
    Silla curled her fingers into the hem of my vest, and she leaned in. I was abruptly aware of the rush of blood in my ears, drowning out the night bugs and the rattle of wind through dry leaves. Silla shuddered and broke her lips from mine, then pushed her forehead against my neck. Her nose was freezing. I wrapped both arms around her and hugged her, tucking my chin over her head. She hunched into me, like she was taking shelter. I kissed her hair, and she lifted her face. “Nicholas.”
    “Yeah?” I whispered.
    Her hands crawled up my chest, and she raised them to bury in my hair. The fedora was knocked off and fell to the ground. She kissed me, hard. Like she was going to break my teeth. I gasped, grabbed her shoulders. Then I bit her lip and kissed back. We kissed like it was a competition, desperately clutching at each other.
    Suddenly, Silla flung herself away. She turned her back. Her panting mirrored mine.
    I was a little dizzy. And severely turned on. “Silla? Are you okay?”
    She nodded and spun to me. Her eyes were bright as the moon. She held up her left hand, the one with the tiny pink scar. The tip of her middle finger was slick and dark. “I’m bleeding.”
    “Oh, shit. I’m sorry.” I cringed, reached for her hand.
    “No, no, that’s okay. It’s just, you know—blood.” She shook her head like she was rattling nasty thoughts free, then smiled rigidly. I saw the drop of blood on her lip.
    I got it. The harsh smell, especially from inside her own mouth, had to hit her hard after finding her parents like that. How did she manage the magic? I swallowed a shaky breath. “We can keep walking.”
    “Yeah.”
    Neither of us moved. And then we were kissing again, pushing against each other. I tasted the tang of her blood and it made me dizzy, but elated—I was flying high, and my heart pumped hot, boiling blood through my veins.
    Silla stumbled and fell, tearing out of my arms. I grabbed at her, but she landed with a girlish grunt in a tuft of thick grass. “Silla, sorry, I …”
    She pressed her hands down, and the grass began to transform.
    It shivered, green and gold turning bright, eye-popping yellow. Magenta flowers blossomed up the stalks, and violet, electric-blue, neon-orange buds exploded. Silla was surrounded by a Technicolor land of Oz.
    From the center of it all, her mouth parted and she brushed her fingers over the tips of grass and petals.
    My brain whirred like a toy helicopter, spinning and spinning until all I heard was the roar of rotator blades. I’d never seen anything like it.
    Silla pressed both hands to her mouth. She scrambled up and backed away. “I didn’t even say anything!” she said, as though explaining would change them back. She bumped into my chest. The wind began plucking petals up and tossing them around. For one ridiculous moment, I thought of Skittles commercials.
Taste the rainbow
.
    She turned around to face me. “Oh God, Nick. You, um …” She continued babbling. This was the perfect opportunity for me to tell her everything. I should have. I should have taken her shoulders and calmly explained that she didn’t have to worry or freak out. I knew. About everything.
    “Nick,” Silla whispered. Her cold fingers groped at mine.
    “It’s okay,” I said slowly, for some reason unable to confess. Maybe because all I could really think about was whether she’d kiss me again. “I didn’t imagine that, did I.”
    “No. It’s … magic. I—I know you can’t believe me, that it’s too impossible,” she said, and drew her hands away.
    “No, no, I saw that thing with the leaf on Saturday night.