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Iris meandered in, clad in a silk kimono. Her hair was tousled, loose and fal ing to her ankles in a golden rain of silk strands. And her cheeks were rosy, with an afterglow impossible to hide.
Milkmaids gone wild, I thought impulsively. Grinning, I waggled my finger at her. "You and Bruce been busy?"
"Hush you," she said, scolding me. "None of your business, girl. But I wil tel you that I did some checking. I'm not comfortable using hair dye, at least not right now. After the peroxide, it would fry your hair and probably muck it up worse than it is."
"Wel , I don't want that." I frowned, not at al happy. "Hel ." I glanced over at Menol y. "You're right, I need to do something--I can't just leave it like this.
Maybe it's time for a change." I motioned to Iris. "Get your scissors."
"What? You're kidding." She stared at me like I was crazy.
"Just do it. I want it short and edgy. If I'm going to have punk hair, I'm going al the way. And this way it wil grow out my normal color, and I can just trim the ends a little bit til al the mismatched patches are gone."
Menol y giggled. "You're real y going to do it, Kitten? I bet you won't go through with it."
I snorted. "Watch me. Fire up Jerry Springer, haul out the Cheetos; we're having a party."
Menol y obligingly brought me a bowl of the orange crispy puffs I loved so much, along with a glass of milk, and then, after cajoling Nerissa to sprawl out on the sofa where the gorgeous golden-haired Amazon promptly passed out, she folded her legs and hovered up toward the ceiling, tossing me the remote.
As I channel-surfed, Iris brought out her kit and bade me sit on the hassock in front of her. She stil had to stand on a stepstool since I was so tal .
"Can you make it stylish?"
"I know what you want, girl. Just hold stil ."
The first cut was torture--I heard the clip of the scissors and shuddered as Iris handed me a fistful of blotched hair. But as I stared at it, it occurred to me that maybe this wasn't a bad idea at al . I would have looked hideous; the hair was frizzed from the peroxide and baking soda.
As she snipped her way across my head, razoring in some parts, I began to look forward to the difference. Hel , I felt different--something about losing my fear of Menol y's vampirism had opened the desire to make big changes, to sacrifice the parts of myself that made me uncertain and frightened. I was tired of being timid, of being hesitant.
"Almost done," Iris said, whisking off my neck.
My head felt so much lighter, and my neck felt oddly exposed, now that I had nothing to cover it up. "Can I see?"
"Give me a moment." She vanished for a moment, hurrying back with a tube of hair gel, a spritzer bottle, and a blow dryer. She misted my hair and rubbed a little of the gel on her hands, then began teasing it, then brought the blow dryer to bear for a few moments, after which she stood back. "Okay, take a look."
I stood up slowly and approached the mirror over the fireplace. As I stared at my reflection, I almost didn't recognize myself. I was six one, and the new haircut made me look even tal er. It was so different--stil a patchwork of color, but now it was cute, sassy, bitchy--even a little badass.
"I like it," I said, tilting my head this way and that. The tattoo in the middle of my forehead glimmered from beneath the bangs sweeping to the side. The black crescent-sickle marked me as belonging to the Autumn Lord. I slowly reached up and felt it. The pulsing energy never left me, and over the past few months it had begun to grow stronger. I had the feeling something was coming my way, something big and scary, but strangely, I felt comforted.
As I stared at myself in the mirror, I began to phase out--my face flashing between myself and my panther self. I steeled myself, knowing what was coming.
And then, Hi'ran was there. The Autumn Lord stood behind me. Menol y and Iris couldn't see him, but he was there for me, smiling with those pale ful lips, his long dark hair cascading down his shoulders in a trail of frost and silver.
He put his hands on my shoulders, and I leaned back against him. The energy running through his fingers made me want to fal into his arms.
"I was thinking about you tonight. I sensed you needed me."
Hi'ran leaned down--he was so very, very tal , and his cloak was black, covered with a wash of fiery autumn leaves that continual y fel from the wreath around his head. As his face neared mine, I stared at my reflection in his unblinking eyes, surrounded by the sparkle of stars echoed through the abyss.
I inhaled his scent. Bonfires and graveyard dust, old musty books, ink long dried and yel owed paper, the scent of mold and decay and toadstools and moss . . . it al swirled around me, an intoxicating blend that set my heart to racing.
"I'm sad," I whispered. "I'm losing my love. So much is happening, and I don't think he and I can make it through the approaching storms."
"You aren't losing your love," Hi'ran whispered, his breath a gust of chil y autumn air on my skin. "You're making room. Keep your eyes open, my sweet.
Keep your mind open. Remember the curve of my lips, the scent of old leather and autumn carnivals, the frost that lingers on my breath. Listen for the song your mark sings when I'm near."
And with that, he leaned down and blew on the shining black crescent, and a vibration ran through me that played me like a harp, string by string. I let out a long gasp, wanting him, wanting to give up my breath to him, and he turned me around and slowly lowered his lips onto mine, enfolding me in his arms.
