Illya waited until she was closer, falling into step with her before opening the door to the diner, ushering her in first.

"You're very good," he murmured. "Tracking. Concealing."

And it was a sincere enough compliment. She was good. More than just a natural hunting instinct. But he wouldn't press that point yet. Instead, he would wait. Let her eat a bit. Talk a small amount first.