Ironside by Holly Black Read Free Book Online Page A

were streaked with gray. “I got to get going. See you down at the club.” He glanced at Corny and Kaye. “Nice to meet you.”
    Kaye’s mother pulled herself onto the counter of the kitchenette, picking up her cigarette from where it scorched a plate. The strap of her tank slid off one shoulder. Kaye stared at Ellen, finding herself looking for some resemblance to the human changeling she’d seen in the thrall of the Seelie Court—the girl whose life Kaye had stolen. But all Kaye saw in her mother’s face was a resemblance to her own familiar human glamour.
    With a quick wave, Trent and his bass guitar swept out into the hall. Lutie took that moment to dislodge herself from Kaye’s neck and fly to the top of the refrigerator. Kaye saw her settle behind an empty vase in what appeared to be a bowl of take-out menus.
    “You know what you need?” Ellen asked Corny, picking up the half-empty beer beside her and taking a pull, washing down a mouthful of smoke.
    He shrugged, grinning. “Direction in life? Self-esteem? A pony?”
    “A haircut. You want me to do it for you? I used to cut Kaye’s hair when she was a little girl.” She hopped down and headed for the tiny bathroom. “I think I have some scissors around here somewhere.”
    “Don’t let her bully you into it.” Kaye raised her voice so she was sure her mother could hear her. “Mom, stop bullying Corny into things.”
    “Do I look bad?” Corny asked Kaye. “What I’m wearing—do I look bad?” There was something in the way he hesitated as he asked that gave the question weight.
    Kaye gave him a sideways look and a grin. “You look like you.”
    “What does that mean?”
    Kaye gestured to the camo pants she’d pulled off the floor that morning and the T-shirt she’d slept in. Her boots were still unlaced. “Look at what I’m wearing. It doesn’t matter.”
    “You’re saying I look terrible, aren’t you?”
    Kaye tilted her head and studied him. “No one in their right mind would choose a mullet as a hairdo unless they were trying to give the world the finger.”
    Corny’s hand traveled self-consciously to his head. He smirked.
    “And you have a collection of wide-wing-collared polyester button-downs in colors like orange and brown.”
    “My mom buys them at flea markets.”
    Picking up her mother’s makeup case off of a mound of clothes by the bed, Kaye pulled out a stick of glittery black liner. “And you wouldn’t look like you without them.”
    “Okay, okay. I get it—what if I didn’t want to look like me anymore?”
    Kaye paused for a moment, looking up from smudging her eyelid. She heard a longing in his voice that troubled her. She wondered what he would do with a power like hers, wondered if he wondered about it.
    Ellen came out of the bathroom with a comb, scissors, a small set of clippers, and a water-stained paper box. “How about some hair dye? I found a box that Robert was going to use before he decided to bleach. Black. Would look cute on you.”
    “Who’s Robert?” Kaye asked.
    Corny glanced at his reflection in the greasy door of the microwave. He turned his face to the side. “I guess I couldn’t look any worse.”
    Ellen blew out a thin stream of blue smoke, tapped off the ash, and set her cigarette firmly on her lip. “Okay, sit on the chair.”
    Corny sat down awkwardly. Kaye pulled herself up onto the counter and finished off her mother’s beer. Ellen handed her the cord for the clippers.
    “Plug that in, sweetheart.” Draping a bleach-stained towel around Corny’s shoulders, Ellen began to buzz off the back of his hair. “Better already.”
    “Hey, Mom,” Kaye said. “Can I ask you something?”
    “Must be bad,” Ellen said.
    “Why do you say that?”
    “Well, you don’t usually call me ‘Mom.’” She abandoned the clippers, took a deep drag on her cigarette, and started chopping at the top of Corny’s hair with manicuring scissors. “Go ahead. You can ask me anything, kiddo.”
    The