To Love a Stray Ch. 19

"Tawny is feeling upset and scared by my news that she will come and live with me and we'll be married," Alan says keeping to the same calm tone.

"My name is not Tawny!" Rosy screams as she twists around in the seat to glare at Alan. "How many times do I have to tell you my name is Rosy you Dumb Fuck?"

"Rosy!" Sam snaps but I catch hold of his forearm and shake my head when he glances my way startled.

"Let Alan handle it," I say whisper quiet.

"Well stop acting like a scared little brat," Alan tells her evenly.

"You can go away and leave me be now you pervert!" Rosy snarls back at him. "My brother and uncle are here now and I'll be going with one of them!"

"I am sure that is what you want or would prefer but the choice is not yours to make," Alan tells her kindly. "The Board has decided that given your upbringing and experiences with werecats that you need a husband who can guide you in what is proper and correct."

"No!" Rosy shrieks as she jumps to her feet. "You can't make me do anything I don't want to! I'll claw your eyes out!"

"I'm sure you'd try," Alan says getting to his feet.

He takes one step towards Rosy and her nerve breaks, she whirls and flees but he catches her within a second. Rosy shrieks in fear as she thrashes wildly in his grasp. I grab Sam by the upper arm to restrain him when he would go to his sister's rescue and shake my head at him.

"Alan won't hurt her," I whisper. "He has plenty of experience handling an upset female."

We watch silently as Alan manoeuvres to sit in the chair Rosy had been using. His arms are around her body in such a way she has no chance of scratching, hitting or biting. He uses one leg to trap both of her legs and she is left with no way to attack him.

"Calm down, calm down," Alan tells her in the same even tones.

"I don't want you! I'll never let you touch me! I hate you! There's someone else I care about! I love him and I know he'll come looking for me!" Rosy screams and looks towards Sam with huge eyes. "Take me home with you Sam, you're my brother you got to look after me! You and Mitchell!"

"I can't take you home Rosy," Sam says unhappily and I glance his way to see tears welling in his eyes.

"Jazzy doesn't want you on her clan territory, Mitchell doesn't want you there, Micah doesn't either. You're just not welcome back there," Sam tells her. His voice breaks and he has to swallow several times before he resumes speaking, " and after what he done I'll kill Edwin before I let you two be together."

"But Mitchell is my brother!" Rosy cries in disbelief. "And Micah loves me! You heard him! Micah loves me he wouldn't turn me away!"

"How much do you expect the poor bastard to take from you?" Sam yells back at his sister.

I can hear pain beneath his anger and wonder what is truly driving him. I feel sure it is more than his own inability to help his sister and make her feel safe.

"You treated him like shit! Always wanting to hide away in a room to be with him like he was a dirty secret! Did you ever tell him you loved him or cared about him? No! Then in front of everyone you turned to frigging Edwin! You weren't happy to cut Micah off at the knees! No, you had to make sure everyone knew he'd been cuckolded! How much more was there to those times you kissed Edwin? You didn't just play Micah for the fool you played the whole lot of us! You'd better watch her closely Cummings, that one is bad right through!" Sam yells and slams from the room leaving me staring after him.

I stare at the door for a few moments before turning my head so I can see Rosy once more. She is staring at the door, her eyes huge shimmering pools of tears in her face as broken little whimpers come from her. She is no longer fighting Alan but submitting docilely to his restraint.

"I don't think you're bad," Alan says quietly, "they just don't understand what makes you tick."

"I'll give him a little while then go talk to him," I say quietly after a minute or two not wanting to break the silence now Rosy's whimpers have faded.

"He's welcome to come with us and stay until Rosy has settled in," Alan says meeting my eyes.

"Once he's had time to cool off I am sure he will take you up on that offer," I say confidently. I'd witnessed the bond between Rosy and her brothers enough over the previous two days to doubt their devotion to each other.

"No," The word comes from Rosy startling both Alan and I.

"Rosy, Sam is your brother, he will want to make sure you will be okay." I tell her gently.

"I don't have any brothers or sisters. My mum died not long after I was born, my Dad raised me until he died and I became a stray. I don't have any brother," Rosy says in a flat tone without looking at either Alan or myself. "My only family is this kitt I'm having."

"Don't be ..." I go to admonish Rosy for claiming she has no family but Alan is speaking to her drowning out my voice.

"I know you don't think much of me yet," Alan says using those soothing, calm tones. "But you will come to find you can rely on me. I won't turn my back on you no matter how atrociously you behave or how much you fight me."

As I watch him holding her and talking to her I realise he is using a method often used with panic-stricken kitts and young strays too weak to run from clan cats but still strong enough to fight.

Holding Rosy firmly and closely would make her panic-stricken body release a surge of adrenaline. Strangely enough this cancels out the Fight or Flight mode the individual is in, leaving them open to physical contact and soothing conversation that all werecats look for when stressed.

I sit silently as I watch Alan work his own brand of calming on Rosy for over fifteen minutes. I see when she stops fighting completely and relaxes allowing him to cuddle her against his chest. She doesn't respond verbally to his steady stream of talk but she does turn her head slightly as she listens to him. Obviously she doesn't trust him as yet but is clearly considering him less and less of a threat.

They make an attractive couple sitting together. Alan is only a few shades darker in colouring than Rosy with dusty blonde hair and green eyes. He is deeply tanned by the Australian sun and crowfeet crease the corners of his eyes showing that at forty he must be eighteen or twenty years older than Rosy.

A knock at the door startles me and I see Rosy give a startled jerk as she hisses uncomfortably. Alan had claimed her attention so fully she wasn't aware of much else.

"Kurt, we're ready to go back in," Don Curtis calls from outside.

"Alright," I say as I get to my feet still holding my forgotten cup of coffee.

"I think I'll go get myself a coffee and something to eat," Alan says as he gets to his feet.

Rosy pulls away from him and moves away several steps before watching us both suspiciously.

"Would you like something to eat and drink as well? How about I just bring enough for two back and you please yourself whether or not you eat then." Alan says smoothly as he turns to the door.

I glance back at my niece a moment as I reach the door. Her emotions show clearly on her face, she is feeling deserted, scared and unsure. I consider a kind word for her for a moment then decide nothing might be best for now, Alan needs to be the only one offering comfort to her. I walk out the door and for some reason I feel the urge to say something despite knowing it is best if I just leave.

"Your brothers do love you," I say gently. Rosy gives a snort of contempt and turns her back on me -- it's the only defence she has left -- pretending I don't matter.

"They would be there if you ever wanted to reach out," I tell her as I watch the back of her shoulders. I hesitate a moment before walking away.

Everyone in the living room is silent as I walk in and sit in the chair I had used before. Sam is sitting beside me; his forearms rest on his knees as he leans forward with his head hanging down. He appears totally dejected and I feel sympathy for him. It clearly isn't easy knowing that his sister is being forced into yet another situation she doesn't want and he can't do a thing to help her.

"Okay, to the matter at hand. The charges against Wade and Marissa Williamson," Mal Inness says with a sigh.

"I'd like to put a plea for leniency in for Marissa. We all know she has always relied very heavily on Wade to make decisions and run the clan while they were in charge." I say getting to my feet.

Cantrell Yates sighs and leans back in his chair before glancing at the other four at the table.

"How about we deal with the charges against Wade first," Cantrell says sounding tired. "His punishment will no doubt greatly affect how we should treat Marissa."

"Why don't you come right out and say it?" Sam asks bitterly as he sits up straight beside me. "If you execute Wade it would be a mercy to execute Marissa."

"If you had the chance to decide punishment for Wade Williamson what would you choose?" Mal asks curiously.

"That is an easy one," Sam says on a snarl. "Firstly have him whipped to within an inch of his life, then have him castrated without benefit of anaesthesia. Better yet use one of those things farmers use on bull calves and cut his balls off, sack and all. Don't execute him; leave him to watch what's left of his clan struggle to survive. He's left the clan rocked to its very foundations. At least some of my sister's attitude seems to have rubbed off on Jasmine Williamson and she won't let her clan go down without a fight!" Sam says tightly.

"And I suppose you would like to be the one to wield the whip and knife," Maurice Donnelly says lightly.

"No," I say getting to my feet as I stare at the five toms in turn. "I am Kurt Black, brother to Jeddah Black, we are direct descendants of the original Australian Big Cat. Vengeance is mine by blood right," I end on a snarl.

"I get to ply the whip," Sam growls getting to his feet. "You can cut,"

"Vengeance is ours by blood right," I snarl once again. Even as I make the claim I can't believe how much I want this. I am not a vicious or bloodthirsty cat by nature but I want to be the one to dish the worst of the punishment to the one who has threatened the existence of my bloodline.

"And what of Marissa?" Martin Francis asks quietly.

"I believe Marissa was incapable of standing up to Wade and refusing to let him do as he planned. With Jasmine so sick at the time Marissa was nearly out of her mind," Sam says firmly. "Let her punishment be living with the decisions she failed to make,"

"Anyone with any objections to blood rights?" Maurice asks.

"A whipping and castration seem too light of punishment for what was done," Cantrell mutters.

"American werecats have a totally different way of looking at clan life to us." Don Curtis says. "For a start they use the term Pride, not Clan, and they treat strays little better than second class citizens. Sure enough Australian strays don't like clan cats but by the time a stray has survived the werecat gene being triggered they are generally loners. Strays, any stray, found soon enough after their first change can become useful members of society. Take for instance the half-blood kitts raised in clans, other than by personal scent and blood testing it is nearly impossible to tell them from a full blood. Mal, your wife's son Christopher is a half-blood isn't he? She came into heat when you were away..."

Mal Inness' growl cuts Don's words off but several others nod in agreement.

"Chris is my son regardless," Mal snarls. "And he is full-blooded, he inherited a werecat gene from both parents."

"None of the clan see Chris as a stray," Sam says firmly. "He has proven himself a clan cat constantly and has proven his worth many times."

"So it is just as feasible that Williamson's upbringing over rode everything else. In America werecat bloodline is traced by female heritage but the males have the power. Here we share the power with our wives," Martin Francis points out. "It's important we send a clear, strong message to the few American werecats on Australian soil. We will not tolerate that kind of behaviour. Besides castration should be reserved for strays not a former Alpha."

"Surely your young niece ... Rosy, will adapt to her new life much easier knowing Wade is no longer around to remind her of what happened." Cantrell says quietly as if afraid Rosy might over hear and be upset.

"I claim Blood Rights!" I roar as soon as it becomes clear to me the others want a quick, clean execution along with an arranged marriage for Rosy to keep the evidence of what happened kept quiet.

"A quick and clean solution is what any she-kitt would want," Don murmurs soothingly.

"You do not f..." Sam swallows his anger as he leans on the table thrusting his face close to Don's. "You. Do. Not. Know. My. Sister! If I had a guess I would say she wants to get the hell away from any and all werecats! ..."

"Your sister does not know how to behave towards other cats, does not know how to communicate or act around other cats!" Cantrell snaps getting to his feet. "That is her problem! Have you even tried to educate her? She acts like a God-damned stray!"

"My sister is what Wade has made her! He refused to let any rules be set down or enforced in case it upset her after what she endured from stray tomcats. What did he end up doing to her? Exactly the same as the strays she was trying to avoid or escape! Only he kept telling her that she deserved it! It was her own fault! That it was for her own good!" Sam stops yelling into Cantrell's face and steps back visibly fighting for control.

"You say she is acting no better than a stray?" I ask as I step up beside my nephew and glare at each of the five Alphas in turn until they drop their eyes or look away.

"Some instinct has pulled her back to that! She was punished by an Alpha, turns to the strongest and most dominant tom for protection afterwards ... attraction? Or is it just self-preservation? What does it matter? She no longer wants to be with Micah Williamson but both of her brothers are physically weaker than him. So she sees them as not being able to protect her, all she has left is those instincts and behaviour that kept her alive and relatively sane for years on her own. Now you want to push her into a marriage with some tom who is a complete stranger to her?" I snarl at all of them. "Don't you dare to presume to judge her and what would be best for her!"

"You can have Wade, do what you will with him," Cantrell says gruffly as he shuffles papers in front of him and avoids looking at either of us. "But the decision on Tawny Rosalind McIntosh has already been discussed between Ray McIntosh and Alan Cummings and agreed on."

"Ray has no right to ..." Sam yells angrily only to have both Cantrell and Don get to their feet to glare across the table at him. I am glad they feel threatened enough to have to stand up.

"Sam, it's done." Mal cuts into the tense silence quietly with a look of sympathy. "Alan Cummings should be able to help her live a full and rich life. Your sister needs help,"

"Come on Sam. We got work to do," I say tightly as I turn towards the door.

With the door shut behind us I head towards where I know my two sons and the other warriors from my clan are waiting. I can hear Sam following behind me, his breath is hissing from between clenched teeth and his thread is heavy betraying his rage.

Everyone gets to their feet and turns towards the door as I open it and walk into the room with Sam only a few steps behind me.

"Has anything ..." Dave starts to ask.

"Have you still got that eighteen foot bullock whip in the vehicle or did you take it out when you returned from your last job?" I ask as I lock eyes with Blake seriously.

I know Blake likes to swing a whip around cracking it and generally performing fancy tricks with them.

"My fifteen foot bullock whip is in the vehicle," Blake says with a frown. "It doesn't have the piece at the end for cracking. It needs replacing,"

"It'd still take the skin off a cat's back though wouldn't it?" Sam asks as he steps past me.

"Yeah," Blake says and shifts from foot to foot uncomfortably.

"And who has a pocket knife?" I ask as the warriors glance at each other curiously.

"I got one," Dave says and glances towards several warriors, two of them nod at him. "So have Dean and Graham,"

"Get the whip and a pocket knife," I order firmly. "It doesn't matter if the knife isn't real sharp either."

"Punishment has been decided?" Dave asks licking his lips as Blake and two others head for the door.

"The Board members here wanted a quick, quiet execution for Wade and probably Marissa," I say evenly. "I claimed blood rights. Wade is to be flogged and castrated,"

I can't keep the savage satisfaction out of my voice as I lick my own lips. I know someone not raised in werecat society would not understand the importance of being able to claim revenge in such a personal manner but the toms in front of me understand how much power and dominance it took.

"How many Board members here?" Dave asks with a half smile.

"Five," I say with relish. "Including Cantrell Yates and Don Curtis."

Dave gives a low whistle of appreciation as he heads towards the door with Blake.

"Be back shortly," Blake says as he walks past me.

"I need a few minutes to get complete control of my anger," I say as I begin loosening my tie. "I don't want to loose control to bloodlust, change form and cut Wade's punishment short."

"No problems," Dave says. All of the warriors from my clan head for the door. Blake glances back at me for a moment before shutting the door behind him as they leave the room.

I remove my tie and start undoing the buttons on the suit shirt I'd worn to the hearing. I want to change into something more comfortable and expendable, I expect there to be a lot of blood and gore shortly.

I visualise the cat I often become as I breathe deeply fighting my rage. Connecting with my inner cat helps calm me and I visualise what I look like as a cat. I would be very close to the size of a Siberian tiger but my coat will be inky black except for the diamond of white hair on my chest.

"How did you make all five Board members back down?" Sam asks with a faint trace of curiosity in his voice.

"Both of my parents can trace their family heritage back to the original Australian Wildcats that were here before white man settled Australia," I tell him with a slight frown.

My own children had grown up hearing about their family heritage but it had never occurred to me to make sure my nephews learnt about it as well, an oversight I can soon put right.

"We're the closest thing to Australian Werecat Royalty there is," I say with a grin. "If your mother was alive those five in that room would have been falling over themselves to do whatever it was she wanted."

"Why don't they take into consideration what Rosy wants? Why force her into a marriage?" Sam demands tightly.

I can't help the sigh that escapes me, the feeling I should have been more able to prevent the Board forcing her to fit into their version of proper lifestyle burns inside me.

"Because they like to think they can pull everyone's strings. Believe it or not, being paired with Alan Cummings is going to help Rosy. If anyone can help her connect with her inner cat and reconcile herself to what she truly is -- then Alan can." I watch Sam for several seconds as he grinds his teeth in anger.

"Wade should have seen Rosy needed help, he should ..." Sam stops in mid sentence and turns away.

I watch as he runs both hands through his hair breaking the elastic band holding his hair back neatly.

"Shoulda, woulda, coulda," I say solemnly. "It might have made a difference for your sister but we'll never know. The main thing is that she is going to get the help she needs."