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Fiona had completely forgotten what her apartment was like until she saw Justin’s expression when she unlocked the door.

“Should I take my shoes off?” he asked. She could tell he was completely serious.

She looked with new eyes at the expanse of spotless white carpet, the carefully selected pieces of minimalist furniture, and the single blue vase on a pedestal. The open kitchen had under-floor heating and granite countertops. Everything was flawlessly tasteful, absolutely perfect, and polished until it looked like no human being had ever touched it, let alone lived there.

“Don’t bother,” she replied as she pulled him inside, shoes and all. “I’m going to redo the carpets. In fact, if you move in, I’ll redo the entire place. With input from you.”

Justin looked horrified. “You don’t want my input. You haven’t seen the places I’ve lived in. The closets are so full of old sports equipment, there’s hardly any room for my clothes. The kitchens have everything piled up on the counters. In my perfect home, there’d be a doggy bed in the middle of the floor.”

“For you? Shouldn’t that be a kitty bed?” Fiona teased.

“For the dog I’ve always wanted if I ever got a job that didn’t involve leaving the country at a moment’s notice for up to six months at a time. When I was a kid I had my heart set on a yellow Lab. But now I think I’ll just go to the pound and rescue whoever needs rescuing.”

“That’ll be all of them. You’re going to be the canine version of Catalina.”

“She has three cats, right? Three dogs isn’t that many. I’d just need a big backyard. But we don’t need to live together. We could have separate homes and stay over a lot. I don’t want to cramp your style.” He waved his hand in a wide sweep, taking in everything from the white carpet to the delicate orchids to the modern art glass sculpture.

Fiona considered the ways that Justin might cramp her style if they lived together. His three dogs would shed on the furniture and leave squeaky rubber balls on the floor. Her closets would fill up with baseball bats and rock climbing shoes. Her kitchen would no longer be spotless, because unlike her, he’d actually use it, baking cupcakes for kids (and Grace, and her teammates) and cooking delicious meals for her.

That life sounded like the opposite of cramped. If anything, he’d free her style.

“If we moved into a house with a big backyard, would you mind if I kept a couple rooms that the dogs aren’t allowed into?” she asked.

“Of course not.” His smile told her that he hadn’t really wanted to live separately. “Your glass jellyfish will have a safe home.”

With dignity, she replied, “For your information, that is not a jellyfish. It’s an abstract sculpture called Polychrome Anguish Twelve.”

“Treat yourself to Polychrome Anguish One through Eleven, then. I’ll keep the dogs out.”

“You’re on,” she said. “You know, when I was a little girl, I wanted a dog too. But we never lived in an apartment where the landlord would allow them.”

“Me neither. Was there a particular one you wanted?”

“A Siberian husky. They have beautiful eyes.”

“They do. Almost as pretty as yours.” He touched her cheek, sending a pleasant shiver through her body.

Just then, her phone buzzed with a text message. Much as she’d have liked to ignore it, very few people had that number and a message from any of them was likely to be urgent.

“Hang on,” she said. “I have to check this.”

The text read, Hey Annie its yr old friend Julie. I have boyfriend news! Call me NOW for all the dirty dirty details.

She groaned. “Great timing.”

“What is it?”

Fiona turned the phone to show him the text. “It’s Elson. He’s got something urgent to tell me. The ‘dirty dirty details’ is in case you see the text, to give me an excuse to talk privately.”

“Do you think you should call him?”

“Yeah, I’d better. I’m still hoping to get enough evidence to throw him in jail. If I drop off the map, he might send goons to see if I took his money and ran.”

She closed her eyes, putting on her spy persona, then made the call.

For the first time in her experience, Elson sounded worried. “Are you alone?”

“Yes. We can talk now.”

“Oh, good.” He sounded relieved. “Where are you?”

“Santa Martina.”

“Perfect. I’ve got a friend there who you need to meet.”

Fiona let her real wariness come through as she asked, “What’s going on?”

“I’ve found some information about your boyfriend. I’m sorry to say that he’s bad news. It’s time to end the relationship. You need to meet my friend right now. He can tell you how to break up safely.”

Fiona thought fast, then said, “All right. Give me his address.”

Elson gave it to her, then hung up.

She turned to Justin. “Well, this is a complication.”

“What is it?”

“I have to murder you.”

He stared at her, then let out an incredulous laugh. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. It looks like Elson found out who you are and thinks you’re too hot to handle. He wants me to come pick up the murder weapon. Poison, I assume.”

“Wow. That is a complication. What do you want to do about it? How can I help?”

A warm rush of love suffused Fiona for his trust in her abilities, willingness to let her make her own decisions, and steadfast determination to stand by her side.

“Elson threatened to have you murdered before, and I can testify to that,” she said. “But if he actually orders me to do it and hands me a murder weapon, that’ll make a much stronger case against him. And if I don’t do it tonight, I’ll miss my chance. Who knows how long we’ll be in Montana, or where we’ll go after that. If I stall Elson for days, he’ll figure I’m getting cold feet. Or worse. So I’d better go collect the poison.”

“And...?”

“And then I turn in the murder weapon and everything I’ve learned so far to the FBI,” she said with a shrug. “I wanted to get more on him, but hopefully this will be good enough. Since I’m not actually planning to put cyanide in your coffee, that’s the end of this mission.”

Justin smiled. “Good plan. But I meant, ‘And how do you want me to guard you?’ I assume I’ll have to watch from a distance, but can I listen in? Will you wear a wire?”

She shook her head. “I can’t risk it. Elson had me searched every time I met with him. He does it to everyone who gets near him. Vision only.”

Fiona texted Hal to let him know what had happened and pass on the address.

He responded, Do you need backup?

I have backup, she replied. Justin, leaning over her shoulder, added a snow leopard emoji.

They drove to the meeting point with Justin crouched out of sight in the passenger well. It was in an industrial part of town that was eerie and deserted at night. She parked in the shadows behind an abandoned building whose roof would have a good view into her meeting place, then got out and walked to the warehouse where the meeting would take place.

Fiona didn’t expect anything to go wrong, but it felt good to have Justin watching her back. She’d had backup on undercover missions before, of course, and if he hadn’t been there, she’d have called in one of her teammates. But this was the first time that she’d truly felt that she wasn’t alone.

She rapped on the warehouse door.

“Come in,” a man’s voice called.

Fiona stepped inside. The warehouse was dimly lit and cluttered with old industrial equipment, but she immediately spotted the man who had spoken to her.

“Hands out,” he said. “I need to pat you down. Are you armed?”

“I have a pistol in a thigh holster,” she replied.

“I’ll have to unload that. Just procedure.”

“No problem.” Fiona had expected that. Elson’s guards always did the same thing when she visited him.

The man unloaded her pistol and returned it to her, then gave her a thorough but professional patdown, checking closely for wires. Then he offered her a tiny plastic bag of white powder. 

“It’s tasteless and odorless, and dissolves in hot liquid.” He smiled unpleasantly. “It’ll give you a great night’s sleep.”

Fiona pocketed it. “Thanks. I’ll let Mr. Elson know how it works. It might be a couple days before I get a chance to try it.”

“That’s fine.”

She turned around and started for the door. And then froze at the unmistakable clicks of guns being cocked.

Brilliant white light flooded the warehouse. As she blinked, dazzled, ten men stepped out from behind the machinery, all aiming guns at her head. They were followed by a middle-aged woman in a white doctor’s coat.

“What...?” Fiona began, shocked and baffled. “Who...?”

The most sadistic smile Fiona had seen in her entire life spread across the woman’s face. She turned to the windows and held up a big paper sign. It read:

SUBJECT SEVEN

COME IN UNARMED

OR SHE DIES

Despite the guns aimed at her, Fiona didn’t think twice. She lunged at the woman. A tiny pain like a needle prick stung her back. Her legs went numb, and she pitched to the floor. Fiona struggled frantically to get up, but she couldn’t move her legs at all. All she could do was prop herself up on her elbows.

The man who’d given her the packet of white powder—probably cake flour, she thought bitterly—bent over her. Fiona lashed out with a ridge-hand strike that Shane had taught her, breaking his nose. She had one second of satisfaction before she was dogpiled by more of the guards. They wrestled her into submission, confiscated her empty pistol, and cuffed her hands behind her back.

Furious and frightened—more for Justin than for herself—she shouted at the top of her lungs, “JUSTIN! GET OUT OF HERE!”

Her effort left her ears ringing and her throat raw. But even as she’d yelled, she knew it was in vain. He’d never leave her.

The woman in the doctor’s coat said, “It doesn’t actually matter if Subject Seven comes in or not. We’ve staked out the building where he’s hiding, so we’ll get him either way. This is just my little experiment to determine the answers to two questions. One, does he care what happens to you? And two, does he care enough to sacrifice himself?”

“You have got to be Dr. Mortenson,” Fiona said. Since the sadistic doctor obviously liked to show off how smart she was, she went on, “How in the world did you find us?”

“Mr. Elson told us,” Dr. Mortenson explained. “He did some independent research, figured out who Seven was, and decided that he wouldn’t make a trustworthy employee. So he contacted us and suggested a mutually beneficial deal: he turns over Seven to us, and we take him off the market and pay Mr. Elson for the privilege. Once we compared notes, it became obvious that you were more than just a spy. So we raised our offer, and got two for the price of... well, for the price of two, actually. But I think you’re worth it.”

“I don’t know what you think I am...” Fiona began.

“You’re a shifter.” Smugly, the doctor went on, “I can tell by your response to the tranquilizer dart. One dose anesthetizes humans, but partially paralyzes shifters. It takes two darts to knock a shifter unconscious. But what will be really fascinating will be to see if—”

The door was kicked open.

“No!” Fiona screamed. “Justin, run!”

Justin stepped in, his hands raised above his head. His face was pale, his mouth set. But he’d come for her anyway, as she’d known he would.

“Subject Seven,” said Dr. Mortenson. “Welcome home.”

She gave a slight jerk of her head. A guard stepped into the doorway from outside, and squeezed the trigger of his dart gun.

Justin spun around and lunged for the man with the gun. He managed one step forward before he staggered, then crumpled to the floor.

“I thought so.” Dr. Mortenson’s voice practically oozed satisfaction. “It was impossible to know if it would work till I put it to the test, but our new formula was specially designed to overcome Subject Seven’s resistance to tranquilizing agents.”

Fiona wanted to murder her. She was talking about Justin like he was a lab rat.

Justin braced his palms on the floor and addressed Dr. Mortenson. “If you let her go, I’ll cooperate with whatever you want from me. She’s just a regular shifter, nothing special. You don’t need her.”

Dr. Mortenson made a “tch-tch” sound. “That’s why I need her. You’re right, she’s nothing special. So the only reason I have to keep her alive is for leverage over you. Misbehave, and she dies. Or worse.”

Justin’s pale face flushed red. He struggled frantically, and with a grunt of effort, managed to force himself up to his hands and knees.

“As I hypothesized. His resistance is still slightly greater than that of an ordinary shifter. I expect he’ll regain consciousness sooner, too.” The doctor snapped her fingers. “Give him another dose.”

The man with the dart gun fired again.

“No!” Justin yelled. “No! I’ll kill—”

His eyes closed. He slumped down and lay still.

Fiona let her own head rest on the cold concrete floor, cursing herself. She shouldn’t have let Justin come with her. She should have told Hal she wanted more backup—but with that big of an ambush, wouldn’t whoever he’d sent just have gotten captured too? In that case, she shouldn’t have come at all.

With an effort so hard that it felt tangible, Fiona pulled herself together. Blaming herself was a waste of time and a distraction from what needed to be done. She’d gotten out of bad situations before. She just needed to stay calm and keep her wits about her.

“Knock her out too,” said Dr. Mortenson. “I don’t want any trouble on the plane.”

A sharp pain jabbed into Fiona’s back. Just before the darkness took her, she thought, We did want to know where the Apex base is. I guess we’re about to find out.