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The next day, Faith felt as if she was experiencing déjà vu.

As she entered the lobby of Tala’s apartment building, the young woman behind the front desk eyed the gift in Faith’s hands with a crinkled brow.

What was up with that look? This time, Faith had brought food instead of flowers—a beautifully arranged gift basket filled to the brim with cured meats, different cheeses, crackers, olives, nuts, and a bottle of Dutch gin, which came in a ceramic bottle depicting a windmill.

Hopefully, a little alcohol would loosen Tala’s tongue and make her more likely to slip up and reveal helpful information about the Wrasa.

But even if it didn’t, the listening device in the hidden compartment at the bottom of the bottle should do the trick.

She took the elevator up to the top floor and rang the doorbell. While she waited, she switched the basket to her left arm, tugged up the V-neck of her soft-pink wrap-style top, and sniffed to ensure the mate scent perfume was still strong enough to cover the smell of her emotions.

The door swung open faster than expected, and Tala caught her sniffing herself. She leaned in the doorway and cocked her head with an amused grin, dressed in slim-fit charcoal-gray chinos that accentuated her lithe build and an emerald-green top that contrasted with her copper hair. “Was our friend the bear-shifter right and your deodorant isn’t working?”

Flushing, Faith let go of her shirt. “Of course it’s working. I’m just making sure I didn’t forget to put on the mate scent perfume, in case we run into any of your Wrasa neighbors.”

“You didn’t forget,” Tala said. “I could smell it before you even rang the doorbell.”

Ah, that was why Tala had opened the door within seconds.

Tala stepped back, and Faith realized only then that she was barefoot. “Come on in.”

“Do you want me to take my shoes off?” Faith asked.

“I don’t care. I just prefer being barefoot.”

Faith hesitated, then decided to keep her shoes on, not wanting to let her guard down too much.

As Faith entered the luxurious apartment, Tala craned her neck and peeked into the basket. “What’ve you got there?”

Despite being a fox-shifter, she seemed to be as curious as a cat. Faith held the gift out to her. “I brought us a little something for tonight. I hope you like it better than the flowers.”

Tala took the basket from her. “Smoked ham?”

“I thought you Wrasa have the best noses in the universe? Can’t you smell what it is?”

Tala shook her head. “With you so close, the only thing I can smell is you. Um, the perfume.”

So the perfume basically acted as some kind of cloaking device, not only for emotions but for all kinds of scents too. Faith made a mental note. Maybe they could use it in the future. “It’s cured meats and artisan cheeses.”

Tala nodded appreciatively. “Never let it be said that you can’t teach a human new tricks. Why don’t you grab a seat in the living room? I’ll arrange two plates for us.”

While Tala disappeared around the corner, Faith stepped farther into the living room. She had already caught a glimpse of the bean-shaped coffee table and the large couch that curved around it when she had picked up Tala for their dinner cruise date last week. Now she took in more details she wasn’t sure had been there last time. Maybe Tala had added them.

Lush green plants were everywhere, as if Tala had wanted to bring a little forest to the city apartment. Potted ferns flanked the huge flat-screen TV at the head of the room; an indoor palm stretched toward the nine-foot ceiling next to the balcony door, and a variety of succulents were arranged on the shelf above the small desk in the corner.

Instead of taking a seat on the couch, Faith tiptoed across the living room and looked around. Preparing a tray of snacks for them would keep Tala busy for a few minutes. This was her chance to snoop a little and see if she could find anything that might give her some insight into Tala, the Wrasa, and what they were planning.

The shelves were bare of any personal knickknacks—no framed photographs, no trinkets from past vacations, no items that hinted at hobbies or interests. Either Tala hadn’t had time to put them up, or she didn’t want Faith to find out anything about her life.

A black laptop bag rested on the desk. Even with the zipper closed, Faith could tell there wasn’t just a laptop inside. The bag bulged, straining at the seams, as if Tala had shoved a lot of documents inside.

Faith tiptoed over to it. Should she…? She paused and peered through the open archway that separated the living room from a small dining area. Beyond it was a door that led to the kitchen. The clanking of cutlery on porcelain drifted over, indicating that Tala was still preparing their snacks.

Her heart raced as she carefully, one tiny tooth after another, unzipped the main compartment.

One more glance toward the kitchen, then she slid her hand inside.

A neatly rolled-up power cord and a computer mouse rested on top of the laptop.

With her bottom lip clamped between her teeth, she opened the second compartment and pulled out a slim folder.

She peeked inside.

Her own face stared back at her.

Faith’s fingers shook as she flipped through the document. Tala had a three-page profile on her and a longer one on her father!

The thump of a kitchen cabinet closing made her jump.

Hastily, she shoved the folder back into the laptop bag.

Her fingers encountered something else.

A USB stick!

Faith hesitated. Should she take it? She had never stolen anything in her life. Even now, it felt wrong.

Jon’s words echoed through her mind: We have to use every means at our disposal to protect ourselves and our fellow humans. If we shy away from making the hard choices, we’re doomed.

But what if it was a trap? The USB drive could contain a virus or spyware.

No, that was paranoid. If the Wrasa had wanted her to find the USB stick, surely they wouldn’t have left their profiles in the same bag.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she snatched the tiny device and closed the zipper.

The kitchen door creaked open.

Faith jumped. For a second, she stood frozen, like a burglar who’d been caught red-handed. Then she hurriedly shoved the USB stick into her jeans pocket and pretended to enjoy the view of Rock Creek Park through the balcony door next to the desk.

Tala entered the living room, carrying a tray.

“Nice view.” Faith gestured through the glass door and tried to sound calm, even though her heart felt as if it were about to beat out of her chest.

“Mm-hmm. I’m right next to the zoo. When the wind is just right and I have the balcony door open, I can hear the bleating of the zebras.”

“Oh, cool. Chloe would love that.”

“Well, if you ever want to bring her… It would certainly make our relationship appear more real.”

“No!” Faith said, then realized how sharp her voice had sounded. She hadn’t intended to ever mention her daughter, and she certainly didn’t plan to introduce her to Tala. “No,” she repeated more softly. “Chloe stays out of this. That’s still my condition.”

“Of course. I don’t even know why I suggested that. I’m fine with leaving your pup out of it.” Tala turned away and carried the tray over to the coffee table.

While she was busy setting down their snacks, Faith quickly shoved the USB stick deeper into her front pocket. “Why do we even have to go through with the entire date if we’re staying in? Couldn’t we just take a few pictures, maybe record a short video for social media, and be done with it?”

“That’s what I said,” Tala grumbled. “But my superiors insisted it would appear more authentic and we’d come across more natural as a couple if we actually spent time together and got to know each other a bit.”

Faith had to admit it made sense. She directed her attention toward the snacks on the table.

Instead of arranging the sliced prosciutto, salami, camembert, and spicy cheddar on a charcuterie board for them to share, Tala had placed everything on two separate plates. Each of them even had their own small bowls of parmesan crackers, pistachios, and stuffed olives.

Two glasses and a bottle of water in the middle of the table formed a demarcation line between Faith’s food and Tala’s.

Okay, that seemed a little over-the-top. Was Tala afraid Faith would have eaten more than her share?

Wait a minute…water? The gin was nowhere to be seen.

“Didn’t you want to try the gin?” Faith asked as casually as possible.

Tala turned toward her. Her golden eyes were so unusual and intense that Faith felt their gaze like the buzzing of an electric fence. “Lesson number two on how to fake-date a Wrasa: we don’t drink alcohol.”

“Oh.” Damn. That expensive bottle of gin, along with the bug, would probably end up like the flowers—with Tala’s human neighbors. “For religious reasons?”

Tala didn’t answer right away, as if she was debating whether to reply at all. Finally, she shook her head. “For the same reason we don’t eat chocolate.”

That was a surprise. Faith had always viewed the Wrasa as powerful, invincible creatures. But within just three dates, she had already found two substances that could make them sick. Maybe shape-shifters were more fragile than they wanted humans to know.

A new wave of guilt swept over Faith. The USB stick seemed to burn a hole into her pocket, scalding the skin beneath.

“But if you want a drink, I can get you a glass,” Tala said.

“No, thanks. Just water is fine.” No way would she end up being the one whose tongue got loosened.

Tala settled cross-legged on the couch and eyed her plate as if she hadn’t eaten in days. She pulled out her phone and hastily snapped a few pictures for social media, as if she couldn’t wait to devour every morsel.

With a low groan, Faith sank onto the other end of the sofa.

Tala lifted her gaze off the food to study her. “You okay? You seem a little…tense.”

Faith’s breath hitched. Oh God. Tala could tell something was off! Say something. “I’m fine. Just very sore from our workout yesterday.” That was the truth, so she didn’t even need the mate scent perfume to cover for her. “I could barely walk this morning.”

A satisfied smirk spread across Tala’s face. “Good.”

“Good?” Faith echoed. “I’m suffering here! How’s that good?”

“Because people will think you’ve got trouble walking after being ravaged all night by your passionate Wrasa lover.”

“R-ravaged…” Faith stammered through a mouth that had gone dry.

Tala’s grin broadened. “Ravaged,” she repeated with a nod, drawing out every syllable. “Thoroughly.”

Faith reached into one of the little bowls and threw an olive at her.

Agilely, Tala snatched it out of mid-air with her mouth. Somehow, she managed to chew and keep grinning at the same time.

God, she was insufferable. Faith lifted her chin. “Why wouldn’t they assume I was the one doing all the ravaging?”

“Because I’m walking just fine. Wrasa don’t get sore muscles.”

“Maybe you would if you took human lovers.”

Tala stopped chewing as if that comeback had stunned her.

Now Faith was the one grinning as she popped an olive into her mouth.

Maybe it was a good thing the bottle of gin with the listening device had stayed behind in the kitchen, where it hopefully couldn’t pick up their conversation.

Faith really didn’t want her father to hear her exchange flirty banter with Tala—even though it was, of course, just meant to put Tala more at ease with her.

~ ~ ~

“Um, you might want to pick one of the babies,” Faith said half an hour later.

Tala gave her an incredulous look. She couldn’t be serious. “Babies?” she repeated as if she had suddenly lost the ability to understand any and all human languages.

Faith gestured at the TV screen with her controller. “Baby Mario is usually a good choice for beginners.”

“I’m not playing as a baby.” Tala scowled at her, then popped the last slice of salami into her mouth and chose the most intimidating creature on the character selection screen. She wasn’t sure if it was a dragon or a warrior turtle, but it sported large fangs, a spiky shell, and horns on its head. Much more appropriate for a Saru. After glancing at her vehicle choices, she paired it with a sleek Formula One racing car.

Faith shrugged. “Suit yourself. But don’t come whining if you lose.”

Tala lifted her upper lip into an inaudible snarl. “I’m a Syak. We don’t whine.”

“We’ll see.”

Earlier, when they had first settled down on the couch, Faith had been as jumpy as a pup during its first thunderstorm. Her scent had taken on an acrid tang, as if she was feeling guilty about something.

But with the mate scent perfume heavy in the air between them, Tala couldn’t be sure.

What had Faith done—bathed in the stuff before coming over?

Whatever it had been that Tala had smelled, it had been replaced with a bold, crisp scent that telegraphed confidence.

Clearly, Faith expected to win this Mario Kart thing. It had gotten dark outside, and the lamp on the side table next to the couch cast a warm, golden glow over Faith’s intensely focused features.

But Tala was just as determined to win this digital battle as their characters waited behind the starting line.

As soon as the countdown began, Tala pressed down on the acceleration button so her kart would jump ahead once the race started.

“You might want to ease up on that button,” Faith said.

“Why? Afraid your human reflexes can’t keep up?” Tala taunted.

“No. Because—”

The race car’s engine burned out with a boom . Sparks flew, leaving Tala’s character dazed.

“Because of that,” Faith said, her triumphant grin practically audible.

The word Go! flashed across the screen, and Faith’s boring standard kart with the equally boring green turtle behind the wheel surged forward, leaving the stalled race car in its dust.

Tala clenched her jaw and sped after her as soon as her engine started working again.

Faith’s kart drifted around the first turn in a tight line, while Tala struggled with the unfamiliar controller and hit a patch of grass, which slowed her down.

The plastic groaned under her fingers as she pressed the A button harder, but it seemed to take forever for her bulky character to accelerate.

Damn. Was that why Faith had told her to choose the lighter Baby Mario?

Ahead of her, Faith expertly drifted around the next turn. She used a mini turbo to zoom up a ramp. Her kart soared through the air, and Faith let out an exuberant “whoop” as her character executed a graceful mid-flight spin before smoothly landing back on the track.

Tala couldn’t help marveling at the precision with which Faith’s fingers flew across the controller.

Her own kart wobbled like a drunk dragon, crashing into walls, bouncing against barrels, and collecting more dents than coins.

Thankfully, she was a fast learner and quickly got a feel for how to steer.

She glided around the next bend and even managed to use a mushroom to take a shortcut.

But try as she might, she couldn’t seem to gain an edge over Faith, who even managed to widen the gap between them. She was only seconds away from crossing the finish line.

Time to attack!

Tala zoomed through an item box and grabbed a red shell.

She hoped she wasn’t misremembering Faith’s earlier explanation about what this item did. There was no time to think about it as she pressed the button to launch the shell. “Take this!”

In her mind’s eye, she saw it hit Faith’s vehicle and send it spinning.

Instead, Faith stabbed a button on her own controller and placed a banana peel behind her.

The red shell collided with the peel and exploded into a burst of sparks and banana mush, without doing any harm.

Tala watched helplessly as Faith’s kart rushed across the finish line.

“Yes!” Faith jumped up from the couch, waved the controller in the air, and did a little victory dance.

A pretty sensual victory dance. Her hips swayed in a mesmerizing rhythm.

Tala tore her gaze away. Hmph. Wolf poop. Of course she didn’t find that silly little dance sexy. Her heartbeat had only sped up from the thrill of their competition.

“Not fair,” she grumbled. “You’ve clearly played before and know every inch of that track.”

Faith paused her victory dance and cupped her hand around her ear. “Is that whining I hear?”

“Of course not. Syak don’t—”

“Whine. Could have fooled me,” Faith muttered. “I don’t get how you can own a console yet be so bad at such a simple game!”

“It’s not mine,” Tala replied. “It came with the apartment. We used this place as a safe house in the past, and sometimes, we had to keep a bunch of pups entertained indoors for a while.”

Faith furrowed her brow at the mention of the safe house, but instead of asking about it, she grinned. “I wonder if they whined too when they lost.”

“I didn’t whine,” Tala said with all the dignity she could muster—which wasn’t as much as she wanted, considering her once shiny race car had ended up in a puddle of banana mush. “And I haven’t lost yet. Best of three wins.”

The amused glint in Faith’s eye didn’t dim. “You’re on. But first, let’s snap a selfie of us with the victory screen. After all, we need to document every moment of our whirlwind romance for our social media followers, right?”

The thought of the world seeing her defeat—even if it was just a temporary one—made Tala grit her teeth. But then again, Jeff Madsen would probably love it since it would prove to their human audience that Wrasa weren’t superior or a threat at all.

Scowling, Tala posed with the winner screen behind her.

Faith slipped her arm around her. With her other hand, she held her phone away from them. “Say cheese.”

“The cheese is gone,” Tala said. “Prepare to eat dust instead when I beat you in the next race.”

The flash of the camera illuminated Faith’s broadening grin.