“Okay, that’s not true. You’re leopard, Bijou . . .” Saria trailed off realizing she’d just said the wrong thing.

Bijou nodded. “Sadly, I’m well aware of that. Do you really think my mother was leopard? How would she ever have met Bodrie?”

“Bodrie had a lot of fans from all over the world and he traveled extensively. We aren’t the only lair, Bijou,” Saria pointed out. “Most of them are in the rain forests. Drake came from one in Borneo, but there are other places. Everyone likes music, and Bodrie, no matter what anyone says about him, was a music man. She probably went to his concert and he somehow spotted her.”

“I wouldn’t doubt that, Bodrie could spot a beautiful woman miles out. And she was beautiful,” Bijou conceded. “I saw a picture of her once. He had it in his room, by his bed, and I went in to get some money for lunch and it was there. He never took women into his bedroom, and he was really mad when he found me there.”

“You never went back to his bedroom?”

“Of course I did. The picture wasn’t there anymore. But I know there are things in the main mansion. I just haven’t gone there. I was hopin’ you’d go with me when I finally got up the nerve.”

“Of course I’ll go. Anythin’ you need me to do,” Saria said sincerely.

Bijou took a deep breath. She’d been skirting around the subject, but she was going to have to face the truth. “Tell me about being a leopard.”

“Drake and Remy can answer questions better than I can, but actually, Bijou, it’s really great. I’ve noticed we all prefer to stay near the swamp and bayous rather than the city, which is probably one of the reasons why you were driven to give up touring.” She turned her head toward the door leading to the dining room. Her hand went up indicating the need for silence. “Someone else is here.”

Bijou inhaled in an effort to catch the scent that may have alerted Saria to another’s presence. Her leopard appeared to be fast asleep and was no help whatsoever, at least until the door to the kitchen was shoved inward. Bijou leapt from her chair and instinctively placed herself between the door and Saria.

The man didn’t look familiar; she knew most of the locals—yet everyone had changed so much in the years she’d been gone—but he smelled familiar. He smelled like the golden leopard from the night before—but not quite.

“Dion.” Saria stood up, her voice wary. “You didn’t call, what’s wrong?” She wasn’t looking at the man in front of her, but staring past her toward the door. “Where’s your brother? Where’s Robert?”