There was a long silence. He turned to look at Pauline, silently demanding an answer. Pauline frowned, the question obviously unexpected.

“They’re called Leopard’s Lover,” she said.

“Don’ answer that,” Amos snarled belligerently. “Are you accusing Pauline of somethin’? First my boy and now Pauline.” He half stood, his fists clenched.

Saria jumped to her feet as did Pauline. Pauline rushed to Amos’s side, taking his arm to soothe him.

“He didn’ mean that, Amos. What’s wrong?”

“Drake?” Saria asked.

Drake held up his hand. “It’s happening here in this room—the same thing that happened out in the marsh.” He raised his voice. “Joshua, Jerico, come on in here.”

Amos subsided back into the chair, but he still wore a frown. Pauline sank down beside him, one hand still resting on his arm as if she could stop him from attacking as he so clearly wanted to do.

“What happened in the marsh?” Amos demanded.

Joshua and Jerico came from different sides of the house, entering through different doors. Drake beckoned them to come all the way in.

“Do you feel anything? Do your leopards feel anything?”

Joshua was the first to nod. “He’s agitated. I feel hostile and aggressive and it’s coming from him.”

“Mine too, boss,” Jerico agreed.

“Mine as well,” Drake said. He looked at the older man. “And clearly your leopard is reacting too. But neither of the women feels it. Why is that?”

Drake approached the vase. His leopard clawed and raked at him as he inhaled. “Joshua, smell them up close.”

Joshua handed his gun to Jerico and cautiously crossed to the large vase. Leaning down, he took a deep breath, allowing the fragrant scent of the flower into his lungs. He gasped and stepped back. “My leopard went crazy, Drake. This flower is dangerous to us.”

Pauline and Saria both pulled a long-stemmed flower from the vase and held it to their nose. Drake could see it was actually two flowers, with one winding around the long stalk of the other. The leopard petals were larger and shaped like a champagne flute where the smaller flowers climbing the stark stalk were all dark chocolate, a beautiful, but obviously deadly flower.

“I don’ feel anything at all,” Pauline said. “Well, maybe . . .” She trailed off.

Saria shook her head. “My leopard’s not angry.”

Amos stood up and came to take a whiff of the flowers. He leapt back and continued backtracking until he was as far from the flowers as he could get. “My leopard went crazy, raging at me. He’s always calm, but he wanted to kill.”

“You said they were called Leopard’s Lover?” Saria asked, puzzled. “I’ve photographed them in Fenton’s Marsh, growin’ wild there. I’ve only seen them one other place. When I go to meet Evangeline Tregre on the edge of her property, where the Mercier corner is as well, those flowers are everywhere there. How did you know their name? I thought they were a new, undiscovered species.”

“My sister brought me the flowers last night when she came for dinner. I’ve always loved them. The Merciers grow hybrids all the time, looking for certain fragrances,” Pauline explained. She glanced at Drake’s frowning face. “Iris was married to Bartheleme Mercier. He died a few years ago, but it was really Charisse and Armande that built the perfume business up. They’re worldwide now. Iris is very proud of them and when I visit I go to the greenhouse where they develop new hybrids. Leopard’s Lover has been in development for years. Charisse was tryin’ to perfect the scent. She actually started the project before she was even in high school and she’s been workin’ on it ever since.”

Drake’s leopard raked and clawed at him, making it difficult to think straight. “We’ve got to get out of this room.”

The other men nodded in relief, pushing through the doors to get away from the subtle fragrance their leopards were reacting to. Pauline led them back into the inn’s largest sitting room across from her wing of the house. The distance provided instant relief and Drake waited until he felt his leopard settle before he tried to put the pieces together.

“Charisse Mercier, your niece, Pauline, started growing hybrid flowers before she was even in high school, so years ago. Am I getting this right?”

Pauline nodded. “I can’t remember the exact year, but she documents everything. These flowers were inspired by shifters, of course. She was very excited about them and she’s worked for years to get not only the fragrance she wants, but the look.”

“They’re beautiful,” Saria said.

“And deadly to our males,” Drake pointed out. “How did they get out of the greenhouse and into the marsh? She can’t just plant flowers that she knows nothing about and not expect an impact on the environment.”

“I don’ know. She keeps all hybrids in the greenhouse and it’s completely enclosed. Charisse is very careful. She actually has a special room where the air blows all contact from your clothes and shoes so nothing gets transferred to the outside swamp.”

“I know I saw the flowers scattered along the property lines on the Mercier land and quite a bit on the Tregre side. The soil is very rich there, almost black, and Fenton’s Marsh has spots very much like that,” Saria said. “The marsh, of course has a high water table, but there are acres of great soil. That’s mostly where I’ve seen the flowers.”