[Santa Olivia 02] - Saints Astray

by Jacqueline Carey

  “Yeah. And hosing.”

  “Walk me through it.”

  She did.

  It was another week before Abernathy returned. Loup read the Washington Post from cover to cover, marveling at the changes that had taken place while she’d been detained. She lingered over an article in the Entertainment section that quoted Kate’s manager as saying the band was poised to return to the States to celebrate their bodyguard’s freedom.

  She allowed herself one chocolate a day, savoring the luxury.

  The taste reminded her of eating pain au chocolat in Paris, and the wonder and delight on Pilar’s face.

  The memory made her happy.

  She finished Of Mice and Men and began reading one of the paperbacks Abernathy had brought her. She kept up her daily meditation, thinking about how Pilar would be proud of her. She shadowboxed and did push-ups and crunches until she was bored and wished she had a jump rope just to mix things up.

  Abernathy came back, looking somber.

  Her heart sank. “Well?”

  “How do you feel about paying a fine?”

  “A fine?” Loup asked. “For what?”

  He began to smile. “Destruction of property. The Jeep’s windshield. Three thousand dollars and time served under extreme duress and dubious circumstances the government doesn’t wish made public, what with the harsh coercive techniques and all. How does that sound?”

  She gaped. “Three thousand bucks?”

  “Is it too much?” he asked. “It’s a lot for a windshield, I know. But from their perspective, it’s the point of the thing. There has to be a substantial fine.”

  “No!” Loup leaped to her feet. “No, no, no! That’s all? It’s okay, it’s fine. I don’t care. We have money left from our signing bonuses and the deal with Kate and stuff. It’s just… that’s all? I can pay three thousand bucks and get out of here?”

  “Yes.”

  “No strings?”

  Abernathy shook his head. “No strings.”

  “I can go?” Loup bounced on the balls of her feet, filled with irrepressible energy. The manacles on her wrists jangled. “Really go? I can see Pilar?”

  He smiled sadly. “I’ll miss you.”

  “I’m sorry.” She caught his hands. “I will, too. Thank you. Thank you so much.”

  “It was my honor. Truly.”

  It took two more days to arrange the transfer of funds from Loup’s bank account in Switzerland, and then another day to sort out the paperwork, but after what seemed like an eternity of waiting, the day of her release arrived. When the new day guard came to fetch her, he grinned and shook his head when she thrust her hands through the sliding window of her cell door.

  “No more handcuffs,” he reminded her. “You’re free, sweetheart.”

  “Oh! Right!”

  He led her to a small dressing room where her civilian clothing and personal items were waiting for her in a plastic bag. Loup changed into her security togs and fastened Pilar’s necklace around her neck.

  Tom Abernathy flushed at the sight of her. “That’s what you were wearing?”

  “Yeah.” She glanced down at herself. “I was at the concert when they took me, remember? Working.”

  “Yes, of course.” His flush deepened. “I’ve seen the footage. It’s just, um… more striking in the flesh. And there’s a press conference scheduled on the Capitol steps.”

  “Is it a problem?”

  He thought a moment and shook his head. “No. You know what? It’s not. You’re a bit of an icon. Why not give the people what they want?”

  “Okay.”

  Outside it was cool and gray and overcast, drizzling a little. Loup stood a moment, breathing deeply, reveling in the freedom. She spread her arms wide, feeling the dampness against her bare skin.

  “Here.” Abernathy began to remove his coat.

  “No thanks.” She shook her head. “I like how it feels. And I’m kind of warm.” She smiled. “Excited, you know?”

  “All right, then.”

  They drove past the checkpoints and left the detention center. Loup craned her head around, watching it diminish in the distance.

  “Thinking about the others?” he asked her.

  “Yeah.”

  “Don’t worry. They’ll be all right.”

  A security detail met them outside the Capitol building and escorted them up the steps past the throng of reporters. The journalists turned, cameras flashing. Loup gazed past them, feeling dizzy and weightless with anticipation, her heart expanding inside her like a helium balloon. Senator Ballantine was there with a considerable crowd of politicians and civilians surrounding him. She scanned the crowd impatiently, familiar and unfamiliar faces half registering, looking for one in particular.

  Pilar.

  Their eyes met.

  The day didn’t need sunshine, only Pilar’s smile. Loup froze for a moment, unable to breathe, transfixed with happiness. The senator strode forward, beaming, his hand extended. His lips shaped words she couldn’t fathom. He stopped and followed her gaze, then gave her a courtly little bow and stepped aside, gesturing toward Pilar.

  Loup found her breath and moved.

  Fast—as fast as she could.

  She caught Pilar around the waist and spun her in a circle, delirious with joy. Pilar laughed and cried at the same time, cupping Loup’s face and showering her with kisses. The press corps went wild with the cameras.

  “I’ve missed you so much!” Pilar whispered against her lips.

  “Me too.” Loup kissed away her tears. “It’s okay, you can stop crying now.”

  She laughed through her tears. “I can’t! I’m too happy. Loup, promise me we’ll never, ever have to go through this again.”

  Loup held her tight. “I promise.”

  “Jesus,” a familiar voice rumbled. “It was only a few months! You’d think it was half a lifetime.”

  She released Pilar reluctantly. “Hey, Mig!”

  Miguel folded her in a gruff hug, pressing her head to his broad chest. “Good to have you back, kid.”

  And then there were others pressing around. Loup shook Senator Ballantine’s hand, thanked him and all his aides. She thanked dozens of other politicians, their names passing in a blur.

  Kate; Kate was there. All the boys. They posed for the photographers, Randall clasping Loup’s hand and raising her arm in a victory salute.

  “You guys gonna come back to work for us?” he asked, giving her a sly smile from behind his bangs. “You’re still under contract and we’ve sold a lot of T-shirts.”

  She laughed. “We’ll talk.”

  At last the furor died and Senator Ballantine took the podium. He gave a speech about civil rights and the triumph of the human spirit, about truth, justice, and the American way, about reclaiming the nation’s dignity. Loup barely listened to it, letting his sonorous voice wash over her, content to have Pilar’s fingers entwined with hers.

  “You okay, baby?” Pilar whispered. “Did they feed you enough?”

  “More or less.” She squeezed her hand. “It wasn’t like last time, honest.”

  “I worry! Did you do your meditation?”

  “Yep. Every day.”

  “Good girl.” Pilar gave her a long, lingering kiss. The cameras flashed.

  “—a few words from Ms. Garron,” the senator said in conclusion. “After which I’m sure she’ll be happy to take your questions.”

  Loup glanced up. “Huh?”

  He beckoned her to the podium.

  “Okay.” She stepped up to lower the microphone. “Umm… Hi. I wasn’t expecting this part. And I’m not really good at making speeches. That’s not a GMO thing,” she added hastily. “It’s just a me thing. I’m really happy to be here. Thanks so much to everyone who made it possible, and especially to all the soldiers who came forward. I wish I could thank everyone in person, but I don’t know all your names.”

  “What do you plan to do next?” a reporter shouted.

  “Li
ke, right away?” Loup looked at Pilar and smiled. “Duh.”

  A wave of laughter rippled through the crowd.

  “Ah… afterward,” the reporter clarified. “Obviously.”

  “I don’t know,” she said thoughtfully. “We kind of have an obligation to these guys.” She nodded at the members of Kate. “And I guess it’s sort of lucrative. But I’d really like to go home, too—at least to visit. To Santa Olivia. Outpost. I guess we’ll figure it out.” Inspiration struck her. “Hey, Pilar! Maybe we could set up, like, a scholarship fund?”

  “For the Santitos?”

  “Yeah!”

  Pilar’s eyes shone. “That’s an awesome idea, baby!”

  There were questions and more questions. Loup struggled to answer them gamely until Senator Ballantine stepped up and took the microphone back.

  “Thank you all so much for coming,” he said cordially. “This is a great day in our nation’s history.”

  The press dispersed, grumbling.

  The senator presented Loup with an American passport. “Welcome to citizenship, Ms. Garron.”

  She opened it to find her photo and her real name inside. “I get my name back? No more Guadalupe Herrera?” She glanced at Pilar. “Did you?”

  “Yep.” Pilar showed her. “See? No more Mendez.”

  Loup hugged her. “Hey! We’re us again!”

  “Mm-hmm.” Pilar’s hands caressed her back. “Jesus! You have no idea how good you feel.”

  Senator Ballantine cleared his throat and beckoned to his aides. “I believe your hotel reservations are in order. We’ll leave you to the obviously, shall we?”

  “Okay!”

  FORTY-NINE

  Is this okay?” Pilar asked anxiously.

  Loup surveyed the lowered lights, the lit candles, and the covered dish domes. Soft music was playing and a bottle of champagne chilled in a stand. “Are you kidding?” She lifted a dome and sniffed. “Lobster and steak?”

  “I wasn’t sure. I wanted everything to be perfect.”

  “It is.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Pilar!” Loup pulled her close. It felt good, so unspeakably good, to have Pilar’s body pressed against hers, warm, lush curves melting into her embrace. She nuzzled her hair and breathed her in. “Yes. It’s perfect.”

  Pilar pushed her away with an effort. “Eat first. I worry!”

  “Okay. I am kinda hungry.”

  She ate. It was luxury on luxury, the succulent lobster melting in her mouth, the filet tender and juicy. Pilar, watching. Eating, too, but mostly watching.

  “Tell me everything I missed,” Loup said between bites.

  “Oh God!” Pilar ran a hand through her hair. “It’s been crazy, baby.” She described the months of endless tension and suspense, the constant agony of uncertainty. “I just wished I could see you and know you were all right. That footage from backstage at the concert.” She shivered. “Did you know those stun gun things can actually kill people?”

  “Uh… no.”

  “Loup!”

  “I’m fine, I’m fine.” She smiled. “I did see you, you know. On TV, testifying at the Outpost hearings. You were great.”

  Pilar shrugged. “I just told the truth.”

  “No.” Loup shook her head. “You made them feel what it was like to grow up in Outpost, made them believe. And when you addressed the GMO Commission…” She put down her fork. “Pilar, I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t have recommended to repeal the amendment if it wasn’t for you. Miguel, too—but especially you.”

  She turned pale. “Don’t say that!”

  “Why not? It’s true. Everything you said was true. They didn’t want to see me as a person.” Loup reached out to stroke her cheek. “You made them.”

  Pilar drew a shuddering breath. “If I’d known there was that much riding on it, I would have been too nervous to get the words out.”

  “But you weren’t and you did.” Her eyes widened. “Ohmigod! It was our fortune coming true. From that temple in Tokyo. Do you remember how it went?”

  “Not exactly.”

  Loup scrambled out of the chair and rummaged through the new suitcase Pilar had brought to find her billfold. Inside was the scroll of paper, neatly folded. “A million drops of water can wear down a mountain,” she read aloud. “A thousand tears can melt the hardest heart.” She looked up, eyes shining. “All the soldiers, all the affidavits… that was the million drops of water. And you! It was your tears that melted their hearts.”

  “Wow.” Pilar looked a little stunned. “That’s pretty weird.”

  “Yeah.” She folded the paper and put it back.

  “Loup…” Pilar gave her hair a gentle tug. “You think maybe we can get by without any great and terrible destinies for a little while?”

  She nodded. “Definitely.”

  “Good.” Her tone changed. “Are you done eating?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “Are you sure?” Pilar teased her. “There might be a shred of lobster still clinging there.”

  Loup eyed her. “Oh, I’m sure! You’re starting to get your smolder on, which means I’m definitely done eating. Let me take a quick shower, okay? I want to wash the jail cell–ickiness off me.”

  “Make it real quick.”

  She did.

  She emerged to find Pilar lounging on the hotel bed wearing nothing but an apricot-colored bra and panties, looking so impossibly sexy it almost made her heart skip a beat. She stood for a long moment just looking at her.

  “You look amazing,” she said at last.

  Pilar smiled and crooked her finger. “Drop that bathrobe and get over here.”

  Loup obeyed.

  And this was perfect, too; the most perfect part of all. The candles burned lower and the soft music played. Pilar kissed her tenderly for a long, long time, caressing Loup’s body with a delicate touch, assuring herself that she was really there and unharmed.

  It felt like coming home.

  “I’m really proud of you, baby,” she whispered. “Just so you know.”

  “Yeah?” Loup traced the scalloped lace along the edge of Pilar’s bra, the palm of her hand brushing the fullness of her breast.

  “Yeah.”

  “Me too.” She kissed her. “And I thought about you all the time while I was in there.”

  “Did you think about this?” Pilar’s hand glided over her taut belly and lower.

  Loup caught her breath. “Uh-huh.”

  “And this?”

  “Yep! That, too.”

  “Mmm.” Pilar gave her a long smoldering look, then kissed her with rising passion, hard and fierce and deep. “I’m about to give you so many, many more things to think about.”

  Loup shivered with pleasure. “Yeah, but—”

  She nudged Loup’s thighs apart with one knee. “But what?”

  “You’re not gonna be fair about this, are you?”

  Pilar laughed softly. “Baby, you don’t get a turn tonight if that’s what you mean by fair.” She laid a flurry of kisses on her face. “It’s you. All you. Believe me, I’ve been thinking about this for a long, long time. I’ve missed you so fucking much. And by the time I’m done with you, you won’t complain. Okay?”

  “Okay, okay!”

  Hours later, Loup watched Pilar climb out of bed to blow out the guttering candles. She wriggled under the bedsheets and turned them down. Pilar slid in beside her, her body naked and warm and delightful.

  “Good?” she whispered.

  “So good,” Loup whispered in reply. “Perfect, even.”

  Pilar sighed happily. “I’m glad.”

  “Did you—”

  “Yeah.” She settled her head on Loup’s shoulder, her voice dreamy. “I always get off making love to you. It’s kind of weird.”

  “Bad weird?”

  “No.” Pilar glanced up at her. “Are you kidding? Good weird. Like everything about you. Just hold me for a while, will you? It feels really nice.”

&
nbsp; Loup tightened her arms around her. “Like, forever? Because I will.”

  “Yeah.” She smiled. “Forever’s a good start.”

  FIFTY

  The next day, they managed to leave the hotel room in time to catch the tail end of the elaborate brunch buffet. Miguel was there, reading the newspaper.

  “Well, well.” He folded the paper. “America’s sweethearts emerge.”

  “Huh?”

  He showed them the cover. The lead photo was a close-up shot of their reunion, Pilar’s hands cupping Loup’s face.

  “Aww!” Pilar smiled. “That’s so cute!”

  “Are you kidding?” Miguel snorted. “If it was any more sickeningly sweet, I’d be in a diabetic coma. Go get yourselves something to eat. We should talk.”

  They returned from the buffet, Loup with two laden plates.

  Miguel sipped his coffee. “Worked up quite an appetite, huh, kid?”

  “Don’t be pervy, Mig.”

  He laughed. “Since when do you care? So, hey, what did you think of the big news?”

  Loup looked bewildered. “Which news?”

  “You didn’t tell her?” He glanced at Pilar.

  “Um, no,” she admitted. “I figured it would kind of overshadow everything else, and I just wanted us to have some quiet time alone first.”

  “Quiet time?” Miguel snorted again. “Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”

  “Shut up, Mig,” Loup said absently. “Pilar, what news?”

  She flushed. “Remember when Geordie said you were sitting on a gold mine? Well, there are a couple of studios in Hollywood that are interested in buying the rights to your life story. For a lot of money.”

  “How much money?”

  “A lot.” Pilar took a deep breath. “Geordie thinks as much as three million.”

  Loup stared at her. “Dollars?”

  “No, strings of wampum, you little idiot.” Miguel raised his brows at her blank look. “Beads? The Indians used to trade them? Never mind.”

  “That’s a lot of scholarships,” Loup said softly. “Jane could go to medical school like she always wanted. And what was it Jaime wanted to study?”