“At the time, they weren’t admittin’ to me they were shifters, so if there wasn’t any scent, they didn’t mention it, but they didn’t want me goin’ out in the swamp by myself.”

Drake listened to the sound of her voice closely there in the dark, with the rain providing a musical background. There was an underlying hurt in her tone when she spoke of her brothers. The boys in her family had been close, but it was as if they hadn’t really noticed her until she got older. By the time they wanted to exert authority over her, she had taken firm control of her own life and resented their interference.

He rubbed his chin over the top of her head. “Would they have told Remy if there was evidence of a leopard as well as a human attack?”

“Of course. Remy’s the acknowledged head of the family and he’d beat the crap out of one of them if they held somethin’ like that back.”

“He didn’t try to beat you,” Drake felt compelled to point out.

“Remy would never hit me. None of my brothers would.” She was silent a moment and then half turned toward him to look at him, her eyes wide. “I had forgotten, but now that you say that, I remember Remy takin’ the switch from Pere and breakin’ it in half. I got in trouble for sneakin’ off at night.”

She talked so rarely about her childhood that he wanted to hear more. “Why’d you sneak off like that?”

A half smile touched her mouth. “I was angry with mon pere for gettin’ so drunk. He made a terrible mess on my floor and even the sofa. Pauline had made me the most beautiful cover. Our sofa was old and fallin’ apart and he ruined the cover. I knew I’d never get the stain out, so I threw a bucket of water on him where he was layin’ in the mess and stormed out. He was too drunk to catch me that night, but I went back a couple of nights later and he went to switch the tar out of me.”

“How old were you?”

“About nine.” She turned back, snuggling into her pillow. “I haven’t thought about that in years. Remy had come home and he came barrelin’ out of his room and yanked the switch out of mon pere’s hands and told him if he ever touched me lke that again, he’d get the switchin’ of his life. Funny that I didn’t remember that until now. That’s probably how I always knew Remy wouldn’t ever hit me in anger. He was furious with mon pere.”

“I would have been too.”

She laughed. “You say that now. You haven’t lived with me. Pauline says I could try the patience of a saint. As I recall you said you were no saint.”