Blood Magic (The Blood Journals) by Tessa Gratton

Author:Tessa Gratton [Gratton, Tessa]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
ISBN: 9780375897689
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2011-05-23T21:00:00+00:00

NICHOLAS

I caught myself whistling as I slathered paint onto a circular-cut piece of plywood. The paint was purple, and I had no clue what it was eventually going to be. But I didn’t care. The late afternoon was warm, and starting to get that weird golden glow we totally lacked in Chicago. I didn’t know if it was about different pollution or the lack of reflective steel skyscrapers, but I kind of liked it. It made the leaves thicker and puffier as they changed for the autumn, instead of just brown and dead. Leaning back on my heels, I contemplated the ridge of trees and the way the sky behind them was so pale a blue it was almost silver. Had I ever noticed that kind of thing before?

A few yards off, the other crew guys hammered away at what I think was going to be a platform, and I was glad to be on my own. Wind blew over the trees, and the leaves moved in a long wave like dorks at a football game. And that’s when I realized I was whistling.

It wasn’t any tune in particular, and probably pretty off pitch. But that didn’t change the fact that my lips were pursed and noise was coming out of them. I stopped. In the silence around me, I heard the laughter of the rest of the crew swell, and the roar of a car engine. Over on the soccer field, the football team was grunting in a weird staccato pattern. Probably beating each other up.

And I was whistling.

Because of Silla.

As soon as she got here, I’d tell her about my mom, about the lacquered box, the magic I used to do—I’d show her something beautiful, and watch her face light up. I’d kiss her, and we’d go home to make the amulets with her brother, and then for a long walk. Something really romantic, like girls wanted. Out to the meadow behind my house, the one next to the cemetery wall. I’d spread out a blanket. Steal a bottle of wine from Lilith, if I could convince Silla to drink it. Grab some dark chocolate and we’d have a real picnic, alone out here. All night, if I could help it.

Kisses offered up

Like leaves turning red as blood

Red as tongues and hearts

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