There was a murmur of voices, and someone said, “I told you, Edith. That’s what happens when you drink the pink drinks,” in a disapproving tone.
The doors shut again, and Tessa heard footsteps going away. She broke away from Wil .
“Oh, my heavens,” she said, breathless. “How humiliating—”
“I don’t care.” He pul ed her back to him, nuzzled the side of her neck, his face hot against her cold skin. His mouth glanced across hers. “Tess—”
“You keep saying my name,” she murmured. She had one hand on his chest, holding him a little bit away, but had no idea how long she could keep it there. Her body ached for him. Time had snapped and lost its meaning. There was only this moment, only Wil . She had never felt anything like it, and she wondered if this was what it was like for Nate when he was drunk.
“I love your name. I love the sound of it.” He sounded drunk too, his mouth on hers as he spoke so she could feel the delicious movement of his lips. She breathed his breath, inhaling him. Their bodies fit together perfectly, she couldn’t help noticing; in Jessie’s white satin heeled shoes, she was but a little shorter than he was, and had only to tilt her head back slightly to kiss him. “I have to ask you something. I have to know—”
“So there you two are,” came a voice from the doorway. “And quite a spectacular display you’re making, if I do say so.”
They sprang apart. There, standing in the doorway—though Tessa could not remember the sound of the doors having opened—a long cigar held between his thin brown fingers, was Magnus Bane.
“Let me guess,” Magnus said, exhaling smoke. It made a white cloud in the shape of a heart that distorted as it drifted away from his mouth, expanding and twisting until it was no longer recognizable. “You had the lemonade.”
Tessa and Wil , now standing side by side, glanced at each other. It was Tessa who spoke first. “I—yes. Nate brought me some.”
“It has a bit of a warlock powder mixed into it,” said Magnus. He was wearing al black, with no other ornamentation save on his hands. Each finger bore a ring set with a huge stone of a different color—lemon yel ow citrine, green jade, red ruby, blue topaz. “The kind that lowers your inhibitions and makes you do things you would”—he coughed delicately—“not otherwise do.”
“Oh,” said Wil . And then: “Oh.” His voice was low. He turned away, leaning his hands on the balustrade. Tessa felt her face begin to burn.
“Gracious, that’s a lot of bosom you’re showing,” Magnus went on blithely, gesturing toward Tessa with the burning tip of his cigar. “ Tout le monde sur le balcon, as they say in French,” he added, miming a vast terrace jutting out from his chest. “Especial y apt, as we are now, in fact, on a balcony.”
“Let her alone,” said Wil . Tessa couldn’t see his face; he had his head down. “She didn’t know what she was drinking.”
Tessa crossed her arms, realized this only intensified the severity of the bosom problem, and dropped them. “This is Jessamine’s dress, and she’s half my size,” she snapped. “I would never go out like this under ordinary circumstances.”
Magnus raised his eyebrows. “Changed back into yourself, did you? When the lemonade took effect?”
Tessa scowled. She felt obscurely humiliated—to have been caught kissing Wil ; to be standing in front of Magnus in something her aunt would have dropped dead to see her in—yet part of her wished Magnus would go away so she could kiss Wil again. “What are you doing here, yourself, if I might ask?” she snapped ungraciously. “How did you know we were here?”
“I have sources,” said Magnus, trailing smoke airily. “I thought you two might be up against it. Benedict Lightwood’s parties have a reputation for danger. When I heard you were here—”
“We’re wel equipped to handle danger,” Tessa said.
Magnus eyed her bosom openly. “I can see that,” he said. “Armed to the teeth, as it were.” Done with his cigar, he flicked it over the balcony railing. “One of Camil e’s human subjugates was here and recognized Wil . He got a message to me, but if one of you was recognized already, what’s the chance it could happen again? It’s time to make yourselves scarce.”
“What do you care if we get out or not?” It was Wil , his head stil down, his voice muffled.
“You owe me,” Magnus said, his voice steely. “I mean to col ect.”
Wil turned on him. Tessa was startled to see the expression on his face. He looked sick and il . “I should have known that was it.”
“You may choose your friends, but not your unlikely saviors,” Magnus said cheerful y. “Shal we go, then? Or would you rather stay here and take your chances? You can start up with the kissing where you left off when you get back to the Institute.”