Her cat’s eyes, luminous in the dark, blinked at him.I know nothing of any laws aside from the human ones. But I figured out not to let humans know about us, all on my own.
He was relieved to hear a touch of humor in her voice. Very gently, he broached the subject he deemed of most importance.
How did you come to be here, in the zoo?
Her head, which had begun to lift as they conversed, sank back onto her paws, and the great , luminous eyes closed.
I came here myself.Again, there was the impression of weeping in her mental voice.I don’t wish to be a Rogue, a killer. I don’t want to mate with a man only to kill him afterward. I would never, ever, kill my own babies.Her voice held a note of desperation.I cannot!
It was Liam’s turn to feel confusion.But you haven’t killed anyone, you said so yourself, and you don’t want to. So what makes you so sure that you will?
My mother did, and my aunt, and all my sisters.She sighed.They told me I was foolish to believe I would never kill. That it was inevitable. And they were right. My closest sister, Beth, the one sister I thought was like me. She was my friend, when all the rest of my family hated me and thought me weak. One night she came home, all bloodied. S-she had…
She broke off, and her ribs heaved as a great, shuddering sigh shook her thin, compact body.
His dog whined, shoving his nose against the bars, wanting — no, needing — to give her comfort.
So you slipped into the zoo, with the other leopards, to keep others safe from you.
Yes, she whispered, her mental voice soft.
But you’re not happy.
Another sobbing breath.I don’t want to be stuck as a leopard all my life. I mean, I love my leopard, I love shifting, and running and jumping, even hunting. So much joy… but to be the animal forever… I had dreams. So many dreams. And I wanted a family of my own. A home. Children. Traditions, and Thanksgiving dinners, and a tree and presents at Christmas.
What is your name?
Naomi. Naomi Kerrigan.
Ah.He let his jaw drop in a doggy smile.A good Irish name. I’m Liam McConnell.
Interest crept into her mental voice.Are you Irish, too?
Scots-Irish. My ancestors fled the battlefield of Culloden and made their way to Dublin. From there, they came to America in the early 1900’s.
My grandmother emigrated here fifty years ago.Naomi told him, and he could hear the fondness in her voice, the wistful bittersweetness of remembering someone who was gone.She wasn’t a Rogue. She died about ten years ago. I know I have a couple of great uncles, but I’ve never met them. Aside from Granda, I’ve only ever met the female members of my family. And they are all… you know.
Did your grandmother know about the others having gone Rogue?he asked gently.
He got the impression of a shrug.No. She could not have known, she would not have stood for it, I am so sure. But, also, my sister and I were not allowed to spend much time with her alone, not until she was ill and needed us to care for her, at the end.
Liam nodded in understanding.They didn’t want her talking with you about things like the laws and the Council, and discovering you hadn’t been taught that.
The big eyes blinked slowly.
I never thought of that.
You’re sure she wasn’t Rogue?He prodded gently.
No, absolutely, she was not.Her mental voice was firm.I remember my Granda. He had this deep, kind voice, rumbly like. He used to smoke a pipe, I still remember sitting in his lap, the smell of the tobacco as he packed it. He got ill and died, it was a blood clot in his heart, and very fast. Gran was so sad after he died, she was never the same. Then she was gone, too.
Liam thought over everything she had told him.
I have to tell you, I don’t think there’s any chance you are, or will become, a Rogue, Naomi.
He felt her recoil, the instinctive rejection.Yes I will.
He sighed.Just because your mother, aunt and sisters are, does not mean you are going down their path. I know it seems like overwhelming odds, if you’re thinking genetics, but have you considered that it could be nurture rather than nature that made them all go bad?
