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Tala hated hotel rooms. With every breath, a barrage of smells assaulted her sensitive nose: the sharp tang of bleach from the bathroom, musty air circulating through the AC, and the faint trace of human sweat from previous occupants.

What she hated even more than hotel rooms, though, was failing. She had never had a reason to get used to it since she’d always excelled at whatever she did. But after her big fuck-up with Kelsey, it seemed to have become a streak.

She wrenched the comforter off the bed and hurled it into a corner. When a quick sniff revealed nothing more than the odor of industrial-grade laundry detergent, she kicked off her boots and sank onto the bed. Morosely, she gazed through the large window at the city skyline beyond.

This time, it wasn’t her fault. Failure had been inevitable. When she’d approached Faith, she had known nothing would come of it. Despite Jorie’s dream, there was no way MacAllister’s daughter would ever agree to help them. Tala had seen the wary expression on her face, the tension in her body as Faith had stared up at her outside the coffee shop earlier today. Even her scent had clearly revealed how shocked, angry, and distrustful she’d been.

To be fair, Tala couldn’t blame her. Their fake-dating plan did sound silly, especially to someone who didn’t know about Jorie’s vision.

Part of her was relieved, even though she didn’t look forward to reporting back to Madsen and the other councilors. She was good at many things, but fake-dating a human probably wasn’t one of her many talents. She had never been attracted to a human. Had never even liked them.

A knock on the door made her pulse leap into overdrive.

Calm down. It’s probably just room service. She had ordered enough food to feed a team of football players…or a single hungry Wrasa.

But it wasn’t the scent of fried chicken, crab cakes, and grilled salmon drifting through the door.

Instead, Faith MacAllister’s milk-and-honey scent tickled her nose, mixed with nervous sweat.

What was she doing here? How had she even found her? Tala had made sure not to check into a hotel Faith’s father owned.

As she sat up and reached for her boots, a second knock came.

Dammit! No time to put on her shoes or Faith might change her mind and run. Without their chunky soles, the height difference between them would be even more pronounced, and she hated how much that bothered her.

Tala wrinkled her nose, trying not to think of the unsavory hotel room carpet as she strode to the door and pulled it open.

Faith stood in the hall. She was wearing the same outfit as this morning—formfitting jeans so light blue they were nearly white and a blouse that seemed pastel yellow to Tala but might be greenish or red to the human eye. Only the jacket Tala had grabbed off the back of Faith’s chair earlier was missing.

Was that why she was here—to get her jacket back?

Tala had already dropped it off at the art gallery that functioned as a front for the Wrasa headquarters in DC. Jeff Madsen had told her they would need an article of clothing from Faith if she agreed to their plan, so just in case, Tala had taken it after Faith had left it behind.

Faith shifted her weight from one foot to the other and tucked an errant lock behind her ear. Her hair flowed loosely over her shoulders, giving her a youthful and carefree appearance. Her stance, however, was anything but carefree. She had raised her shoulders as if unconsciously trying to protect her vulnerable neck, and one hand rested on the doorframe, seeking reassurance. “Um, hi. Can we talk?”

That didn’t sound as if she was here to get her jacket back.

Why did she suddenly want to talk after storming off in a fury earlier today? Tala wasn’t sure she should trust that change of mind. Was this some kind of trap?

But Tala didn’t smell or hear other humans nearby, and Faith reeked only of nervousness, not of aggression. “Of course,” Tala said as if she weren’t surprised to find Faith on her doorstep at all. She moved aside to let her in.

Faith hesitated. She glanced from Tala to the threshold and back as if reconsidering her decision.

Tala waited with the patience of a predator watching her prey while at the same time trying not to look like the big, bad wolf inviting Little Red Riding Hood in for a snack.

With a subtle inhale and exhale, Faith crossed the threshold. Her gaze swept over the room, lingering on the painting above the bed.

It hung the slightest bit askew, Tala noticed only now. Had Faith instantly registered that little detail because she was a hospitality professional, used to inspecting hotel rooms, or was she this observant in general?

Tala would have to be careful.

“How did you find me?” she finally asked.

Faith fluttered her hand in a no-big-deal gesture. “I’ve got a lot of friends in the hotel business. I guessed your flight back to wherever you live wouldn’t be today since you probably hoped I would agree to your suggestion. It only took a few calls to find out where you’re staying.”

“I didn’t even use my real last name when I checked in,” Tala replied.

“But you didn’t change your hair color.” Faith pointed at Tala’s hair, which probably gleamed like burnished copper in the afternoon sun. “There aren’t a lot of short, red-haired women with golden eyes staying in a hotel in DC right now.”

Oh yeah, Tala definitely would have to be careful around her. She couldn’t afford to underestimate her. “Take a seat, please.”

Faith looked from the ergonomic chair in front of the desk to the bed, then to the armchair in the corner, half covered by the comforter Tala had thrown across the room. “Thanks. I’m fine. This won’t take long. I just wanted to talk about…your proposal. Um, not proposal proposal. Your suggestion about the two of us fake-dating. If the offer is still on the table, I’d like to take you up on it.”

In ten years as a tracker for the Saru, Tala had seen everything under the sun. Not much could still surprise her, but now she found herself completely stupefied. “You’ll do it?”

Lips forming a thin line, Faith nodded.

So Jorie had interpreted her dream correctly after all. That was good news. Great news. She wouldn’t have to tell Madsen and the other councilors she had failed again. But Tala couldn’t rejoice. Something didn’t feel right. It was as obvious to her as the crooked painting had been to Faith. “Why the sudden change of heart?”

“Oh, you know…” Faith tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You caught me off guard this morning, but once I had a chance to think about it, I came to the conclusion that you’re right. I don’t want my daughter to grow up in a world ruled by hate and prejudice.”

Tala inconspicuously inhaled through her nose, trying to sniff out Faith’s emotions.

The sulfurous smell of a lie was absent. Instead, the metallic odor of fear wafted around her in waves so dense that it was hard to detect any nuances. But Tala didn’t need her nose to know Faith was hiding something. There was more to her motivation than wanting to spare her daughter from having to live in a world full of hate.

“All right.” For now, Tala would play along and pretend to have bought it hook, line, and sinker. There would be time to find out Faith’s true intentions later. “Then let’s do this.”

“How do we get started?” Faith asked.

“I’ll have to report back to my superiors. I imagine they’ll want to meet you to discuss the details.”

Faith’s shoulders lifted even higher, and the cloud of fear surrounding her nearly made Tala sneeze.

“What? You think they’ll have me murder you and bury your body?” Tala couldn’t help commenting. She knew she should have kept her muzzle shut, but the constant suspicion against her kind grated on her.

Faith met her gaze. “If they gave the order, would you do it?”

“Bury you? Nah,” Tala drawled. “Why go to the trouble when I could just eat you?” She made a show of licking her lips.

Faith blanched.

“Great Hunter, it was a joke!” Tala threw up her hands. “Don’t you have a sense of humor?”

“Not about this,” Faith said quietly. She looked Tala in the eyes with the strangest mix of vulnerability and strength Tala had ever seen.

There was more to Faith MacAllister than she had first thought.

“Is that the first ground rule of fake-dating a human?” Tala asked. “No jokes?”

Faith shook her head. “I’m fine with jokes in general. Just not that one. The first ground rule is: We’ll leave my daughter out of it. She won’t meet you or any of the other shifters or even find out about the scheme.”

“Agreed,” Tala said without having to think about it. As a Saru, she had done things for the council she wasn’t proud of, but she had always drawn the line at pups—even human pups. “If you give me your number, I’ll let you know when and where my superiors want to meet with you.”

Faith hesitated, then pulled her phone from her back pocket and put the number Tala rattled off into her contacts. Her thumbs flew across the tiny screen. “I just sent you a text, so you have my number.”

Footfalls approached, and the scent of fried chicken drifted over from the corridor seconds before a knock sounded at the door.

Faith jumped and nearly dropped her phone. Her free hand went to her chest as if warding off a knife attack—or an attack involving claws and fangs.

“Just my dinner.” Tala eyed her. Clearly, Faith was even more scared than she let on. Again, Tala wondered why she had agreed to this pretend relationship.

When she opened the door to let room service in, Faith slipped past the serving cart with a quick goodbye as if in a hurry to escape.

She was hiding something, and Tala intended to find out what it was.