Crowned by Fire by Nenia Campbell

witch that it was too much—and to precious little effect—but he had already started walking away. She lost sight of him within seconds. She bit her lip and shoved the crumpled bill into her jeans pocket.
    This is a necessity. I owe him nothing.
    She had the sneaking suspicion the witch wouldn't see it that way.

Chapter Five
     
    Catherine had always wanted to cut her hair short. She detested long hair—it was so much effort to maintain, and was always getting tangled or caught in things. Her mother had never let her, though. Most human girls had pretty long hair, and Mrs. Pierce had wanted her daughter to match the human females as closely as possible.
    “How much do you want off?” The mall stylist asked, holding up a section of her hair.
    Catherine stared at herself in the mirror. Mrs. Pierce was not here to give her say-so now. The thought made her sad, and impatient with herself for being sad; she had no time to spare over sentimentality. “All of it,” she said, before she could change her mind.
    The stylist's eyebrows shot up into his gelled bangs. “You sure?”
    “ Do it.”
    It was relaxing, having her hair washed and shampooed, her scalp massaged. She settled back in the upholstered chair, as the knots of stress in her neck and spine slowly loosened. Humans, like animals, needed physical contact, and Catherine enjoyed being touched; the only problem was finding the right balance. This was just right.
    Her eyes closed, only for a moment. When she opened them again, it was because the stylist was shaking her awake; she had fallen asleep in the chair. He seemed amused but unsurprised. “Rough night?” he asked sympathetically.
    “ The roughest,” she agreed, accepting the mirror he handed her to see the back of her head as he spun the chair around.
    Not bad . Her eyes flicked over her reflection in the glass in appraisal. Shoulder length hair had weighed her down. Now, with her hair in a boyish pixie cut she felt lighter, freer. Looking up, she flashed the stylist a bright smile and tipped him six bucks.
    Her smile lasted until she walked through the doors of Quick Cuts and remembered that she still had to buy new clothes. She suddenly felt helpless, and it was not a good feeling. There were so many stores to choose from, most of them expensive. She didn't want expensive, obviously—she wanted something that wouldn't make her stand out.
    If only she'd gone shopping with her mother more often…
    But thinking about her mother opened the door to other thoughts she wasn't ready to think about, thoughts that made her heart ache and her knees weak, so she slammed that mental door shut. There has to be something.
    She stopped a girl who looked like the archetype of normal and asked her what her favorite store was to shop it. “Ray- belle ,” she said, as if it would be obvious. “Around the corner. Spelled like 'Rebel.' You can't miss it.”
    Her friends giggled derisively, but Catherine ignored them like the hyenas they were, flashing their leader a predatory smile that made them all stop short. “Thanks.”
    “N-no problem,” the girl said, before they all quickly walked away.
    The store the human female had been talking about was so small that it actually took several passes before she found it. That was heartening. She walked inside and saw clearance signs, the most elusive of all mall-dwelling creatures. Clearance was one language she knew how to speak.
    Catherine ended up buying two pairs of blue jeans, a white-t-shirt, three black t-shirts, and a dark gray coat she really liked. That left roughly half of the witch's money, so she decided to purchase a hat, and some cosmetics, as well. She had witnessed firsthand what a bit of lipstick and eye makeup could do to someone's appearance. The humans at her school changed their looks daily, like a leopard changing its spots.
    Her stomach growled noisily. I have the appetite of a leopard, too .
    Once she bought something to eat, probably all of the money