The Flynn was the last in; Demon stood, hands on hips, to one side of Carruthers in the shadows, shadows rendered even deeper by the sudden brilliance of the westering sun. Flick let the bay have a last prance before settling him and guiding him into the stable. As the first heavy hoof clopped hollowly on the flags, Flick looked up.

Eyes used to the sunshine blinked wide, finding Carruthers, then quickly passing on to fix on Demon. On his face.

Flick reined in, eyes widening even more.

For one, tense instant, rider and owner simply stared.

Jerking the reins, Flick wheeled The Flynn, sending Carruthers a horrified glance. "He's still restless-I'll take him for a quick run." With that, she and The Flynn were gone, leaving only a rush of wind behind them.

"What the-!" Carruthers started forward, then stopped as the futility of any chase registered. Bemused, he turned to Demon. "He's never done anything like that before."

A curse was Demon's only answer; he was already striding along the alley. He stopped at the first open box, where a lad was easing the girth strap on one of his heavier horses.

"Leave that." Demon shouldered the startled lad aside. With one tug and a well-placed knee, he recinched the girth. He vaulted into the saddle and backed the horse, fumbling with the stirrup straps.

"Here-I can send one of the lads after him." Carruthers stepped back as Demon trotted the horse past.

"No-leave it to me. I'll straighten the lad out."

Demon doubted Carruthers caught the emphasis; he wasn't about to stop and explain. Muttering, he set out in hot pursuit.