Right Hand Magic by Nancy A. Collins

there’s no way I can truly rejoin my people—I’ve killed a fellow were. Even though I had no choice, and Rufus was a lycanthrope and not a bastet, in the eyes of my people, killing a fellow were-being is worse than killing a human—sorry. No offense.”
    “None taken,” I replied.
    “I’m a pariah, now. Just like Phelan is a lone wolf.”
    “You’re nothing like that creep!” I suddenly found myself angry—not at Lukas but at all those who had conspired to try and break this young boy’s spirit and turn him into the monster they expected. “I don’t want to hear you talking like that anymore. You’re a good kid. You’ve just gone through a lot of shit, that’s all. After listening to you, I feel like a jerk complaining about my folks.”
    “You have problems with your parents, too?” His eyes widened in surprise.
    “Nothing on the order of what you’re dealing with. Mine just don’t like what I do, where I live, and who my friends are, that’s all.”
    “What is it you do they do not like?”
    “This,” I replied, gesturing to the sculptures, both assembled and in progress, that crowded the “working” side of my space.
    Lukas turned to stare at me, a look of amazement in his eyes. “Why would they not like this?”
    Now it was my turn to shrug. “My parents simply disapprove on general principles. They think I’m wasting my time.”
    “They’re wrong,” he said, his voice surprisingly sure for one so young.
    There was a quick rap on the half-open door as Hexe entered the room. “Sorry if I’m interrupting—but have you seen Lukas?”
    I pointed to the easy chair. Lukas smiled wanly at Hexe and waved hello.
    “There you are. I was afraid Scratch had made good on his threats and eaten you. You got all the way down the hall on your own—? I’m impressed.”
    “Don’t be,” Lukas replied. “The only reason I’m sitting in this room is because Tate picked me up off the floor.”
    “He fell down,” I explained. “But he seems okay. We were just comparing family drama before you arrived.”
    Hexe nodded in understanding. “Well, in my experience, everyone has two families. The first is the one you’re born into; the second is the one you create for yourself. So what if your first family doesn’t want you around or understand you? Your second family does. As long as you have someone who cares, everything’s right in the world. And that’s how it should be. Being alone isn’t healthy for shape-shifters or humans.”
    “You’re a wise man, Hexe.”
    “I have my moments,” he laughed. “But the real reason I came looking for you, Lukas, is that I want to take you to see a friend of mine named Dr. Mao. He’s a healer.”
    “Aren’t you a healer?” Lukas asked. “Why do I need to go see another one?”
    “It’s called a second opinion. Besides, I’m nowhere as skilled as Dr. Mao. He operates an apothecary on the corner of Pearl and Frankfort, on the border between Golgotham and Chinatown.”
    “Frankfort Street? There’s no way he can walk that far!” I exclaimed.
    “That’s why I’ve arranged for Kidron to pick us up. But before we go anywhere, we need to camouflage our young friend,” Hexe said, pointing to Lukas’s forehead.
    As I stared at the were-cat’s telltale unibrow, I was struck by inspiration. “Stay right there—I’ve got just the thing!” I returned a minute later with a pink disposable razor, a small hand mirror, and a can of strawberry-banana-scented shaving cream. I squirted a dollop onto my fingers and daubed it on Lukas’s brow, just above the bridge of his nose, then proceeded to scrape away the excess hair, creating the illusion of two separate eyebrows.
    “Oww!” Lukas winced. “Not so rough!”
    “Consider yourself lucky I’m not giving you a brow wax,” I replied. “Now hold still.” I stepped back and held up the hand mirror so Lukas could admire my handiwork. “What do you think?”
    “I feel naked.” The were-cat