Page 29

Faith rushed up the stairs and paced back and forth in Tala’s bedroom. Shit, shit, shit! She had messed up—again! First, she had followed them into the forest with a gun and brought two HASS members down on Tala’s family, destroying whatever trust had been building between them, and now she had interrupted a family discussion, probably undermining Tala’s authority.

She knew it had been a mistake, but when Arlyn had told her she could hear Arnold laying into Tala in the kitchen, Faith hadn’t been able to stay upstairs and let her fight this battle alone. She’d paused only long enough to put her clothes back on before rushing downstairs.

Tala barged into the bedroom, carrying a tray heaped high with food. She kicked the door shut with her heel and put the tray down on the nightstand, but instead of devouring the sandwiches, she paid them no attention at all.

Her golden eyes were fixated intensely on Faith, and the expression on her face was one Faith had never seen on her before. “Do you know what you just did?” she asked, a strange vibration in her voice.

Was she trying hard not to shout so her family wouldn’t overhear their conversation?

“I know, I know.” Faith covered her face with her uninjured hand and groaned. “I’m sorry. I keep messing up, don’t I? I probably broke about a hundred pack rules by interrupting and speaking to them like that.” She peeked through her fingers as if she were watching a horror movie—scared of Tala’s reaction yet at the same time wanting to know.

“You did.” Tala rounded the bed toward Faith. “And I can’t even begin to tell you how much I loved it!”

“I know. I’m sor—” Faith stopped mid-word, her mouth still open. She must have misheard…right? “Did you just say…? You loved it?”

Tala let out an exuberant laugh, for the first time sounding all fox. “It was glorious! Did you see Uncle Arnold’s face? He looked like you’d poured a bucket of mud down his pants!”

The mental image made Faith crack up too.

They laughed together until they were bent over, gasping for breath, the tension of the day dissipating.

Finally, they straightened and gazed at each other.

The corner of Tala’s mouth still twitched, and Faith loved that look on her.

“Tala?” she said quietly.

“Yes?”

For a moment, Tala studied her so intently that Faith forgot what she’d wanted to say. She licked her lips, then remembered. “I really am sorry. For everything.”

Tala sighed. “I know.”

“I also want you to know… What Arnold said…about me seeing you as an exotic pet… It’s not true. You’re not one bit less impressive or less intimidating than any of the other Syak.”

Instead of turning Tala’s twitching lips into a full-on smile, her words made Tala frown. “Not sure I want that anymore.”

“What? Being like the other Syak?”

Tala shook her head. “Being intimidating to you.”

Faith stared into those fascinating golden eyes. The look in them was open and vulnerable. All the barriers they had put up between them were down.

“You’re not,” Faith whispered. “It feels like…we’re partners now. A team.”

“Partners,” Tala repeated.

Faith nodded. She found herself leaning toward Tala, reaching out a hand to…what? Cradle Tala’s cheek? Weave her fingers through Tala’s hair and…kiss her?

No. Bad idea. Horrible idea.

It had been an emotional night; she was exhausted and not thinking clearly. She couldn’t trust whatever she was feeling right now.

Quickly, she dropped her hand and backed away.

Tala did the same, the open and vulnerable expression in her eyes now gone. “Let’s eat and get ready for bed,” she said gruffly. “It’s late.”

“I’m not hungry. The sandwiches are all yours.” Faith grabbed her pajamas and ducked into the bathroom.

~ ~ ~

Partners… The word still echoed through Tala’s mind as they lay in bed, each staying on her own side.

Faith hadn’t meant it in a romantic way, of course. That moment between them earlier had been just an overload of emotions. Faith had referred to being partners in crime…or in this fake-relationship scheme.

Even that was something Tala had never had. She had worked with other Saru, of course, but they had never stood up to her and for her the way Faith had.

She rolled over toward Faith, who lay facing her. Tala studied her features in the moonlight bathing the room in a faint glow.

With her superior night vision, she could make out the welt on Faith’s cheek where a branch had hit her. It made her look vulnerable and at the same time like a warrior who had braved battle and come out stronger on the other side.

She wasn’t asleep either—Tala could hear it by the way she was breathing.

“Cramps?” Tala whispered.

Faith’s eyes flew open. “What?”

“Are the cramps keeping you up?”

The covers rustled as if Faith was touching her belly. “No. No cramps today.”

“Good.”

“Yeah,” Faith said. “I mean, having to play heating pad for two nights in a row would be beneath a future natak, right?”

“Right. How are your knees and your hand?”

“I’m fine, Tala. Really. Just can’t sleep.”

Tala sighed. “Me neither.”

They were silent for a while, but neither closed her eyes.

“Can I ask about your mom?” Tala finally asked. “If it hurts too much to talk about it, you don’t have to, but…”

“No, it’s fine,” Faith said quietly. “You can ask.”

“What happened to her?”

Faith smoothed her hand across the covers as if taking a moment to gather herself. “When I was growing up, my mom and I often went for walks in the forest, then short hikes as I grew older.”

“Just you and your mom? What about your father?” Tala asked. “Didn’t he join you?”

Faith shook her head. “Rarely. He was always working and only took time off for church on Sundays. He didn’t get why she would rather wander around the woods than attend mass with him, but he stood up to the gossips and defended her when they started talking about her absence. Mom always said she got the same feeling of peace and awe of God’s creation from being in the forest.”

“She’s right,” Tala said quietly. “I didn’t know humans could feel it too.”

“She could. And so could I when I was little. I loved going with her.” Faith squeezed her eyes shut and turned her face into the pillow. “But I didn’t that weekend. One of my friends had invited me to go to a water park with her family, and that was more important to me.”

She hadn’t put on the mate scent perfume after taking a shower, and now the bitter smell of her guilt hit Tala like a punch in the face.

“Hey.” Tala reached over and gently touched Faith’s shoulder, relieved when Faith didn’t flinch or pull away. “Look at me.”

It took several moments for Faith to unbury her face from the pillow.

“Whatever happened, it’s not your fault. You know that, right?”

“I know. Kind of. But I can’t help wondering… If I had gone with her that day, would I have been able to do something to save her?” Faith’s voice was a shaky whisper.

“You were just…what? Nine?”

Faith stared at her. “How do you know that?”

Tala lowered her head. “They gave me a brief version of your bio when the council picked me to be your fake mate. They told me your mom died when you were a little pup…um, girl. So what were you supposed to do?”

Faith shrugged, then didn’t drop her shoulders back down. They remained hunched as if she were hiding or protecting herself. “I don’t know. Something. Anything. Run to get help. Distract her attackers.”

“Attackers?” Tala echoed. “You think she was attacked? The council told me it was a hiking accident.”

“I don’t know what to think,” Faith said with a weary sigh that carried the weight of decades of frustration and uncertainty. “They couldn’t say for sure. My mom had left the marked trail, so her body wasn’t found until weeks later. She had a head trauma, which was the likely cause of death, and the M.E. found teeth marks from large canines on her bones. But because decomposition had progressed, they couldn’t tell whether those marks were caused by a wolf or a large dog. They couldn’t even say for sure whether it was a hiking accident and the marks were left by scavenging animals after she died…or predators hunted her through the forest and she fell while running for her life and they…finished her off. That’s what my father believes.”

Faith trembled so violently that the bed shook beneath her.

Great Hunter! How traumatizing it must have been for Faith to encounter a pack of wolves in the forest earlier today! And Tala had contributed to it by grabbing her by the arm and dragging her deeper into the dark woods. It also explained why Faith had reacted so strongly when Tala had made a joke about killing and eating her when Faith had first agreed to their fake-relationship scheme.

Never before had Tala felt like such an asshole.

She inched closer, wanting to offer comfort but not knowing if it would be welcome or make things worse. For the first time in her life, she wished she were just a Rtar, born into a fox-shifter family—so she could pull Faith into her arms and hold her without reminding her of the predators who might have killed her mother. Her hand hovered over Faith’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. Sorry your mom died. Sorry you never got any answers to the many questions you must have. Sorry I didn’t understand—”

With a sound like a hurt, scared little animal, Faith grabbed hold of Tala and buried her face against Tala’s chest, her mouth warm against the upper slope of Tala’s breast.

Tala tried to ignore the shiver that rushed down her body. She lowered both hands onto her back and cradled Faith against her, careful not to aggravate her scrapes and bruises. As Faith’s tears soaked her pajama top, she lifted her head and whispered soothing words into Faith’s hair. A weird feeling overcame her, but she couldn’t put her finger on what it was. She only knew that this was the most powerful yet the most helpless she had ever felt in her life.

Finally, Faith went quiet and looked up. Tears still shone in her eyes, but they had stopped falling. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you wet. Um, I mean, your shirt.” She wiped at Tala’s pajama top with her uninjured hand.

Oh Great Hunter! Tala struggled to keep breathing normally because Faith was rubbing a spot dangerously close to her nipple. If Faith wasn’t careful, she would make her wet.

Faith snatched her hand away as if only now realizing she was stroking Tala’s breast. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay.” Tala pretended she hadn’t even noticed. The husky tone of her voice sabotaged her Oscar-worthy performance, though.

Faith withdrew to her side of the bed, and Tala instantly missed the feel of her body against her own.

“Was that what you said earlier?” Faith asked.

“Hmm?”

“When I was crying, you kept whispering the same words over and over. I think it was something in what you call the Old Language.”

“Really?” Tala hadn’t realized, nor did she remember what she’d said. Probably a nursery rhyme from her childhood—something she had instinctively resorted to. “What did I say?”

“It sounded like callani nemi ,” Faith said.

Callani ne— Oh shit. She hadn’t said that, had she? “Kalyani, nemi?”

“Yes! That’s it! What does it mean?”

Tala’s head spun. “It means something like: everything’s going to be okay.”

That was the truth. At least half of it. It meant It’s okay, sweetheart , but not in the way some humans used endearments with everyone, even strangers. Nemi literally meant jewel or precious one and was only used with one’s mate.

This time, she couldn’t even blame the mate scent perfume for messing with her emotions, because neither of them had applied any.

It was a good thing they were going home tomorrow, back to DC, where they would spend most of their time apart.

She needed some distance.

A fake relationship with a human was complicated enough. A real one was out of the question.

Besides, she wasn’t even sure Faith was interested in her, at least as far as a real relationship went. She might be misreading things. Even if she wasn’t, Faith would probably run, scared to confess to her father if they ever became involved for real. She had already attempted once to back out of Operation Make-Believe Mate, and Tala couldn’t take the chance of Faith doing it again, this time for good. No. She had fucked up one mission; she wouldn’t fuck up this one too.

Faith sighed. “I don’t think it’ll ever be okay. I finally had to accept that I’ll never get any answers about what happened to my mom. If your family doesn’t know, even though it happened in their territory, then neither will anyone else.”

“I can’t make any promises, but I’ll look into it.”

“Thanks, but my father has been looking into it for over twenty years,” Faith said. “There’s no more evidence to be found.”

“Maybe not for him,” Tala replied. “But I’m a Saru. I have connections he doesn’t have. If there’s anything to find, I’ll find it.”

Faith was silent for a moment. “If you discover a Wrasa killed her, would you tell me?”

Would she? A month ago, Tala would have considered it a betrayal of her kind to even consider the question. “I really don’t think it was one of us.” Certainly not a Saru operation or Jeff Madsen would have known. “But if I find out otherwise… Yes, I’d tell you.” She searched Faith’s face. “What if I find out my kind had nothing to do with it? Would you believe me?”

“Yes, I would,” Faith said, with a note of wonder in her voice. “I…I trust you.”

The steady, clean scent of the truth filled Tala’s nose. Wow. Tala hadn’t expected that. It felt like getting a medal pinned to her chest. She had never thought she would crave anyone’s trust, but now she realized she desperately wanted Faith to trust her.

“Tala?” Faith said so quietly even Tala with her superior hearing had to strain to hear her.

“Yes?”

“There’s something I have to tell you.”

Tala’s heartbeat picked up, which was silly. It wasn’t as if Faith was about to confess her undying love or something. “What is it?”

“The reason I agreed to date…fake-date you… It was so I could spy on you. Find proof that you—all Wrasa—are evil.” The smell of guilt and shame stung Tala’s nose. “Please don’t hate me, but…I tried to bug your apartment. Twice. And I brought a bug with me here too, but I didn’t go through with it.”

Faith blurted it all out as if she had wanted to confess it for some time.

“I know,” Tala said quietly.

Faith abruptly sat up in bed. “What?” She groped for something on the nightstand, then the light flared on.

Tala squinted against the sudden brightness.

“You knew?”

“Yes. At least about the first two bugs.” Tala hesitated. Madsen and the council hadn’t approved her putting all her cards on the table and telling Faith the truth. But after Faith’s confession, there was no way she could lie. She didn’t want to. “Because we bugged you too.”

Faith flopped back onto the mattress and stared at the ceiling. “God. This is all so messed up.”

“I know,” Tala said.

“If you bugged my house… Does that mean…? Is Chloe…?”

“No,” Tala said quickly. “It never recorded her. The listening device was on the USB stick you stole from me. Since you snuck it back into my laptop bag, it’s no longer in your house.”

A squeak escaped Faith. “You knew about that too?”

“Yes.”

Faith rolled onto her side and looked at her. Slowly, the stunned expression on her face softened. “Okay. We can’t change what we did in the past, before we got to know and trust each other. But from now on, no more games. No more bugs. No more secrets. Let’s work together for real. Can you do that?”

A twisting sensation knotted Tala’s gut. She wanted to do it. But could she? No more bugs and no more games was an easy promise to make, but no more secrets…

It wasn’t her choice to make—not when her entire species could suffer the consequences. They already had to deal with the fallout from Tala’s failure to keep an eye on Kelsey and Rue. She couldn’t risk telling Faith what the Saru had done to keep the Wrasa’s existence secret. With Faith’s history—her mother possibly being murdered by a Syak—she wouldn’t understand why they had thought it necessary to kill humans.

But maybe telling her the truth about everything else would be enough.

“Yes,” she said, trying to sound upbeat and confident. “Let’s work together for real.”

And that was all it could be—working together, without getting emotionally involved because the closer she got to Faith, the harder it would be to keep the truth from her.

Faith flicked off the light, settled her head on the pillow, and exhaled as if the tension of the day finally fled her body. She found Tala’s hand in the darkness and squeezed it. “Thank you for telling me the truth,” she murmured, her voice heavy with exhaustion. “And for listening and”—a yawn interrupted her—“for protecting me today.”

Tala gently squeezed back, careful not to put any pressure on the bandaged part of Faith’s hand. “Thank you for trusting me and for standing up for me.”

“You’re very welcome.” Every word came softer and slower than the one before. Faith withdrew her hand but let it rest just an inch from Tala’s pillow. It wasn’t long before her breathing indicated that she’d fallen asleep.

Tala lay awake, her mind still reeling with everything that had happened that day.

When two cold feet snuck onto her side of the bed, she jumped, then chuckled.

Apparently, she would play heating pad for her human bedmate for a second night in a row after all.