Free Shepherd Hunted by Christopher Kincaid Page A

grabbed Kit’s little finger and pulled hard enough to make the finger pop.
    “Let go!”
    The girl tugged Kit’s finger. Kit had little choice but to follow. She sighed. It would be better to try to get into the building after dark anyway. She glanced back. He was alive. Her stupid shepherd was alive! I need to have a plan and not let his scent addle my brain again.
    They weaved across alleys and streets until Kit lost all sense of direction. Her little finger ached. The buildings changed from brick to whitewashed wood to gray, weathered panels. The haphazard houses teetered. The odor of the northern quarter and its smoke gave way to the usual scents of illness and fear. Her little finger twisted when the girl darted into a crushed alley, and Kit’s eyes watered.
    “Mira!” A boy with tangled brown hair stood with a stoat stick.
    The tottering buildings almost pressed against both of Kit’s arms. The girl dropped Kit’s finger. Kit tested a fist and grimaced. The finger sent twinges up into her elbow.
    Darn girl . She watched the boy’s club.
    Mira stood in front of Kit. Her head stopped at Kit’s stomach, a small shield against a fat club. Kit took a step back and felt something hard push into the small of her back. She glanced over her shoulder. A budding girl in a threadbare dress twisted a stoat stick into Kit’s back.
    “You are not going anywhere,” the dark-haired girl said.
    “I wouldn’t imagine wanting to be anywhere else,” Kit said.
    “You know the rules, Mira.” The dark-haired girl nudged Kit’s back. “No adults.”
    “But. But.” Mira looked up at Kit. “She can help.”
    “I can help,” Kit said. “If you will lower your…weapons.”
    The stick smacked into Kit’s back. She stumbled deeper into the claustrophobic alley. Kit’s tail bristled under her skirts. She should be trying to figure out how to save Timothy, not fooling around with street kids.
    “No tricks from you,” the brown-haired boy said, “Why did you break the rule, Mira? You know it is only us now. We have to stay away to be safe.”
    “But, Hoss,” Mira whined the boy’s name, “Colt is—I don’t want Colt taking a wagon ride.”
    Kit rubbed her back and watched over her shoulder. If she was fast enough she could take the brat’s overgrown stick and teach her some manners. Only Hoss would thwack her as soon as she managed to turn around.
    Stupid kids. Kit itched to smell Timothy’s scent again. Stupid shepherd. If it wasn’t for him she would have heard the girl sneaking up on her.
    “I can bring a doctor. I will even pay for it. Now, with that settled, I will be going.” Kit turned to face the dark-haired girl. The boy could not hit as hard as this little twit.
    “Stop her, Yuzu. She will tell people where we are,” Hoss said. Mira shouted something, and Hoss cursed. “Get off me, Mira!”
    “You won’t be going anywhere.” The girl called Yuzu hefted her club. Her arms were thin, but Kit could see tendons and muscle tensing. She looked into the dark eyes. This wasn’t a budding girl. Lines around the eyes told of age more than her petite frame and oval face did.
    “You are as old as me!”
    “I am not.” Fear flashed across Yuzu’s face. She looked at Hoss over Kit’s shoulder.
    Maybe if Kit could distract them. “From what I see under that dress—”
    “Quiet!” Yuzu slammed her weapon against the building. The gray wood shuddered.
    Lilting laughter made Kit turn away from Yuzu. “She got you,” Mira said. Hoss grinned.
    Kit felt her ears twitch beneath her hood. Hoss moved close and stared up at Kit for a long moment.
    “You do look about the same age as Yuzu,” he said. Yuzu hissed. “You don’t count as an adult, Yuzu. Your chest is too small for an adult. Like hers.”
    Hoss shot a triumphant grin at both Kit and Yuzu.
    Timothy could learn a few confidence lessons from the boy.
    “So you will let her help Colt?” Mira asked.
    “Yeah, she’s pip,” Hoss said. “Not as