“She was trying to survive,” Alonzo said, his voice cool. Dripping with ice even. As a child he hadn’t understood that, only that she wasn’t around and wouldn’t protect the children. She was nice enough and very warm when her husband wasn’t near, but she was only trying to survive.

“But she didn’t,” Evangeline said.

“No. She didn’t.” He fell silent eating the food. It was good food and deserved to be given some attention.

Evangeline got up and went to a small wine rack built in beneath the counter. “Is red all right?”

“Your leopard allows you to drink alcohol?”

“She’s acquired a taste for red wine. She doesn’t like white and no mixed drinks.”

He shrugged. “It was important in our family that we drank. Every meeting, every dealing with other lairs or branches, we drank. It didn’t matter what the leopards wanted and eventually they got used to it.”

“You don’ have to have a drink with me, Fyodor.” She opened the wine. “This is all disturbin’. I thought my family’s lair was bad; yours was far worse. I want to know what happened to your mother.”

He couldn’t sit there. Neither could his leopard. He pushed away from the counter and stalked across the room. Paced like the caged animal he was. “You can never tell anyone what you know. Not Timur. Not Gorya. If my uncle finds us he will try to kill us. I’m far stronger than he can possibly know, far faster. He remembers that boy, the one getting sick and crying over his first kill. He doesn’t know the demon he’ll be facing if he comes for me. For us.”

He had to include her. She had to know no matter what, no matter how she took this next revelation, he was not giving her up. She would have to try to find a way to live with it—with him.

“I don’ talk to people, Fyodor. I keep to myself and I keep my own counsel. My mother is dead and I don’ remember her. I don’ think I ever saw her outside the womb. My leopard remembers she wanted me but was afraid for me. I have no one to tell your secrets to, nor would I.”

He heard the truth in her voice and knew what kind of a woman she was. He couldn’t stop the restless pacing. No woman could accept what he was asking and even then he wouldn’t be done. His world was one of danger and deceit. She would only have him to turn to. There would only be a handful of friends they could trust. Her children would live with that.

“He killed her,” she stated softly.