Crowned by Fire by Nenia Campbell Page A

would be gone. She hoped the witch wouldn't be irritated that she'd spent it all.
    He should have said something, then .
    She ended up going to a Hot Dog on a Stick and buying two corn dogs and a fresh lemonade. While they prepared her order, she stood aside to wait. The smell of cooking meat and hot grease made her dizzy with hunger. She hadn't had time to eat breakfast, not with the Slayers chasing them. Missing meals was hard on her body.
    Catherine leaned against one of the pillars. A group of males stood nearby, glancing at her. She knew what that look meant and wasn't interested, so she ignored them.
    A few seconds later, one of them approached. He was one of the better looking of the group, although not the one she would have chosen for herself. The artificial musk of his cologne preceded him and she quickly moved downwind. “Yes?”
    “I—” He lowered his eyes, and then looked quickly, pointedly, away from her breasts. He cleared his throat and made an attempt to meet her unrelenting gaze, coloring when she lifted one of her eyebrows. “Are you waiting for someone?”
    She folded her arms. “Yes.”
    “Oh,” he said, cheeks turning darker still, “okay. Never mind.”
    Catherine softened a little. Not all males are like the witch . “It's okay,” she said gently.
    She watched him wander back to his group, failure inscribed in the fallen set of his shoulders. One of them called her a bitch. She gave them the finger, because she knew it was expected of her, and then walked over to collect her food from the server.
    It smelled so good. She tore into the first corn dog before even sitting down, devouring it in two quick bites. Oh gods, it was so good. Better than sex, she imagined.
    She tossed out the empty hot dog wrapper and looked around the food court for the witch. His aura helped her locate him, but Catherine was sure that she could have spotted him anyway. He was sitting by himself, broodingly, attracting the glances of several young humans nearby—not that he'd notice, she thought scornfully. He was lost in thought, radiating a danger that was scarcely held in check.
    She slid into one of the seats across from him. He was wearing cargo pants now, a dark gray shirt and a coat. A messenger cap covered his distinctive red hair. He sipped his coffee, and she had a momentary flash of what that mouth had felt like on her body.
    “There you are,” was all he said, deceptively calm. His aura was crackling.
    Catherine leaned forward instead of back, as she wanted to. “Where's Graymalkin?”
    The question seemed to annoy him, but if it did he quickly regained his composure. He tapped his hat, looking her over slowly. “What did the human want?”
    She stiffened in spite of herself. “You were watching me?”
    “I told you, your aura glows. There is nothing like it. I would know it anywhere.” His face remained hard. “You didn't answer my question.”
    “ The human wanted to ask me out,” she said pleasantly. “He was sweet.”
    His fingers tightened on the cup. Not obviously, but her sharp eyes noted the way the muscles contracted. “Is that what you like?” scoffed the witch. “Sweet?”
    She stirred her lemonade with the straw. “What I like is none of your business.”
    The witch rose stiffly. She tensed, hands closing into fists when he leaned over her threateningly, but all he did was whisper, “Is that what you think?”
    “You can't intimidate me that way, witch.”
    He held her gaze a moment longer, and she stayed very still, waiting, even as her blood buzzed in her veins. She thought for a moment that he was going to kiss her, and she wasn't sure whether or not she would permit it if he did. Then he stormed over to the food court. Catherine glanced around to see if anyone was watching, but of course, nobody was. Humans froze out conflict. Better not to get involved.
    As she finished off her meal, she wondered if she shouldn't have pushed him. On the other hand, he needed to learn his