“No true love’s kiss?” Fabían said. His fingers were completely entwined in hers now. “Damn. There goes my shot.”
“We can try,” she said. Good girls weren’t this eager to kiss a boy. But she had stopped being a good girl long ago. What did that even mean, anyway? She’d been alone for so many years, she’d forgotten what shame felt like. After all this time, Danaë did not want to be good or bad. She wanted to simply be.
“Really?”
“Kiss me.” Then she added softly, “Please.”
They leaned in, and when his lips brushed hers, Danaë felt time itself slow down. She stopped breathing, and her heart felt like it was growing. She thought of berries ripening on the vine. The sun coming out from behind clouds after a long, terrible winter. His lashes fluttered against her skin. His hand wrapped around her hip and pulled her closer. She’d never kissed anyone. Not in her sixteen human years and not in the petrified decades that followed. She felt the tip of his tongue and she gasped.
“Was that okay?” he asked quickly.
She answered by scooting on top of him so her torso was at an angle across his chest. She kissed him, and this time she was in control of it. When their lips touched again, she could taste the sugar of the dozen lollipops they’d consumed. She tasted her own tears because she was overjoyed. There was the rush of the oceans in her ears, and she remembered standing at the edge of the shores back home watching the crystal waters of the Caribbean.
“You’re crying,” he said. “I’m sorry. It didn’t work.”
She sat up and wiped her cheeks. Here he was trying to fit an entire lifetime into a few days. It was so much. So much.
“I told you not even true love’s kiss could free me,” she said, and held him closer. “I wouldn’t even know what true love felt like, but we might be on the right track.”
He grinned that soft, adorable grin of his, and her insides felt like they were being hollowed out to make room for more butterflies.
“Cool, cool, cool.”
“What else did you bring?” She picked up a bottle of shimmering red dust.
“This? Well, you said you missed magic.”
Magic was the reason they had left the Dominican Republic. Chased out of their little town outside La Romana. Her family had moved there to work in the sugar factories. Even now, sugar was the closest thing she’d get to home.
“Show me,” she said, eager to hear more about Fabían’s magic.
He unstoppered the bottle and bright sparks flew.
* * *
It was a cheap trick. There were some herbs. Ground jasper. The crushed bones of fire salamanders native to regions in Mexico. The botanica shop had everything he could ever want. Lady Lunes, the owner, had given him the eye when he’d purchased it all, but he’d said he was having a little birthday party. Brujas were gossips. There was no question about it. Besides, these items were trinkets. It’s not like he’d bought anything dangerous.
“I might not be able to summon the dead like some brujas, but my uncle taught me how to make fireworks of the magic variety.”
He tested it by making the shape of a bat. He held the powder in his hand and envisioned the winged creature, felt this cord in his gut that pulled real tight. It was the same feeling as when he and Danaë had kissed. He wanted nothing more than to do it again, but he didn’t want to push her. He could stay with her all night.
He should be getting home, but he kept lighting up the room with animals made of sparks and smoke. Each time, she clapped and squealed like he was the world’s most brilliant brujo.
“What about you?” he asked when the bottle was empty and the moon was out. He brushed a stray curl from her face and leaned back on his hands. “What kind of magic do you miss?”
“I used to be able to conjure light,” she said.
“Cool,” he breathed out.
“This place won’t let me.”
He took her hand in his. “I’ll find a way to get you out of here. There are brujas who know things. My moms is afraid. But she’s afraid of everything. There’s this family in Sunset Park—three sisters—they’re always getting into some sort of mess. I could ask them. Or, if they can’t help, there’s the Alta Bruja, Lady Lunes. And if it’s bad, real bad, we can go to Angela Santiago.”
He watched her face go still. He’d seen that happen to his mother when his uncle had been attacked by a stray vampire and left for dead. He’d seen fear in people’s faces his whole life, not just magical people, but the creatures trying to survive.
“What is it?” he asked. “What did I say?”
“It’s nothing,” she assured him. A deep frown darkened her features. “I just haven’t heard my last name in a long time.”
“Danaë Santiago.”
She blinked quickly, like there was something in her eye. Her gaze fell to his, and she smiled. “There are many Santiagos in this city, I’m sure. Do you know this woman?”
Fabían scratched the side of his head and went through the bags of empty chips until he found a single bag of Takis with a few bites left. He sucked the powder off his thumb and fingers. “I’m not allowed to go there, but you hear stories. She has this greenhouse full of poisons, and the funny thing is, she grows everything inside her bakery. Has a special room. My cousin’s friend’s girlfriend goes to her when she wants a curse. The kind that takes generations to cure. I told JP he needs to stop hanging out with those girls, but no one listens to me.”
She stood up and walked to the south-facing window. She touched the empty space there, sticking her hand out as far as it would go before a rippling force pushed her back. Reminded her that she was trapped inside.
“I promise, Dani. I will find a way to get you out of here.”
“Don’t say things you don’t mean.”
He stood up and went to her. He was a head taller, and one day he’d fill out his taut muscles. He’d be strong and powerful. “I would learn how to wield the power of the moon for you. I would do anything, Dani. I would trade places if I could. I—”
She sucked in a sharp breath. Held his hands tight in hers. She tipped her head back, and when she blinked this time, tears ran down her cheeks. “Don’t say that.”
“Too late. I already did.” He brushed her wet cheek with his thumb.
Danaë leaned in, meeting him halfway for another kiss. This time, the fire built up inside his chest and spread through his lungs. She ran her fingers through his hair and down his back. They kissed each other until their mouths were swollen and the orange haze of sunrise began to break. He didn’t remember falling asleep. But he remembered waking up alone.