Read Online Vixen Hunted by Christopher Kincaid - Free Book Online

for me!" Kit said.
    "Well, you are the
first fox demon I've met. I would say you are walking trouble. The Church
burned all the demons on the continent because of the trouble they
caused." Timothy winced. "Sorry."
    "I am not a demon.
I am just a lonely, sweet, lost girl."
    "Sure."
    "I will pretend I
didn't hear that. Would a demon be so gracious?"
    "If only to lull
her victim into a false sense of safety."
    Kit frowned. "You
do have some wit to you. Do you want to keep fencing, or shall I keep you from
getting into more trouble?"
    Timothy bit into a
biscuit.
    "Good answer. I
don't know anything about my kind. I only know there are very few of us."
She stroked her tail. "I might be the last—Grammie used to say so. She
said my home is a town to the east. She died a year ago."
    "I'm sorry."
What else could he say to that?
    "After Grammie
died—she wasn't a fox, just a kind old lady—I have been in trouble." Kit
looked at Timothy with those deep green eyes. "I want to go home. I have
to know if I…I am alone."
    She pulled her knees up
to her chin, and her tail wrapped around her feet. "Grammie was a
traveling merchant when she found me. She gave that up because of me. I don't
remember anything before Grammie. I only know my home is east."
     
    She fell silent. The
moment stretched, broken by Cat's breathing. The lamb twitched in her sleep.
Timothy had read about fox demons and had heard of this town to the east. What
was the town's name? Was this girl really a demon? Her antics were unsettling.
    Kit stared into the
distance. Bitter sweet memories drifted across her face. He did not consider
her a demon. She was different, but different was not demonic. Aunt Mae always
said that action revealed a person. This fox girl liked to tempt, but she never
went beyond playfulness.
    "I remember
reading about a town of foxes," he said.
    Kit looked up. The hope
that spread across her face twisted his heart.
    "The book is still
probably at my home. I am not certain if it—"
    "You will take me
there!" She leaned so close they almost touched noses.
    "It is a long
walk. I haven't been there for a while."
    "You will take me
there, shepherd! Promise me!" Small tears beaded in the corners of her
eyes.
    The last two words hung
in the air, and Timothy hesitated. How many times did he hear those words from
his mother?
    "Promise me,"
she said.
    He sighed. I am a
fool.   I won't be able to leave it at just telling her where the town
is. I will end up going with her too. Aunt Mae raised him too well. There
was always another mile to walk. "I promise I will see you home."
    Kit leaned back and
crossed her knees, the tension slipping from her. "I will hold you to your
word. Do not think I will not. Perhaps we should seal it in blood?"
    "What? No!"
    "I joke. I believe
you will keep your word. So why do you not visit your home?"
    Timothy shrugged.
"I visit every year or so."
    "You don't get
along with your family?" She held up a finger. "It's your mother,
isn't it? You look like a mother's boy."
    Timothy said nothing.
    "It is! Well, this
time you can show off your wife!"
    Timothy rubbed his
face. "Ugh, after Aunt Mae sees you, you will actually be my wife."



"You get the
better end of that deal, Timmy," Kit said. "I only get a has-been
shepherd." Her ears flicked.
    "The story was
your idea. You could simply be my sister."
    Kit laid a finger on
her chin. "Now that is a scandalous story! An ugly brother and beautiful
sister traveling the world alone! It will cause no end of trouble for you
should men think I am your sister."
    "Yes. Well, I
think I have trouble enough." Timothy sprawled on the straw. He yawned.
"I need to sleep."
    "I cannot sleep in
that. The straw will stick to my lovely fur, and fleas like to hide in
it." Kit wagged a finger at Timothy. "You will wash before you get
near me with your fleas, shepherd!"
    Heavy weights of
exhaustion pulled at Timothy's eyelids. "Then sleep perched on that
barrel." A yawn cracked his jaw. "Good night."
    He