[Santa Olivia 02] - Saints Astray

by Jacqueline Carey

  “Excuse me.” Pilar showed the promoter her screen. “Do you know where this place is? The famous noodle place?”

  She beamed and rattled off a string of heavily accented directions.

  “Okay, thanks.”

  They found it after a considerable amount of trial and error and stood in line to order. The shop was packed and tiny, people hunched over bowls slurping happily. When Pilar ordered two bowls of udon noodles, the cook gave her an impatient glare.

  “Which one?” he asked abruptly.

  “Um… the famous kind?”

  His voice rose. “Which one you want?”

  “I can’t remember!” She glanced behind her. “Help!”

  A woman in business attire laughed and spoke to the man in Japanese. His glare eased. He handed over two steaming bowls and pairs of chopsticks.

  “Kitsune udon,” the woman said helpfully. “Very famous in Osaka. Do you know what is a kitsune?”

  They shook their heads.

  She pointed to the curls of tofu atop the noodles, fried to a russet hue. “Kitsune is fox. It is the same color, you see?”

  “That’s really interesting.” Pilar smiled at her. “Thank you.”

  The woman smiled back. “You are very welcome.”

  They found seats at a crowded table and copied the other diners, holding the bowls close to their lips and shoveling in noodles.

  “Good?” Pilar asked.

  “Awesome.” Loup swallowed an enormous mouthful. “They’re super-slippery and fun to eat. So what makes this the best noodle place in the city?”

  “Secret ingredient in the broth.”

  “What is it?”

  “I don’t know, baby.” Pilar laughed. “It’s a secret.”

  “Oh. Duh.” She scooped up the last of her noodles and drank the broth. “Kitsune udon, kitsune udon. I’m gonna get another bowl; it looks like the line’s pretty short. You want anything?”

  “I’m good.”

  “You’re great.” Loup smiled. “Thanks for thinking of this.”

  “Sure.” Pilar rested her chin on her hand. “Funny, when we first stayed in that place in Mexico City, I never thought I’d get sick of nice hotels and room service. But after a while, it all seems the same and none of it feels real. This does. Confusing, but real.”

  “I like it,” she said wistfully. “I miss real.”

  “Me too.”

  The venue in Osaka was a modest one, holding no more than fifteen hundred people, but it was sold out to a standing crowd. Donny was rights; the Japanese fans were more polite. They bobbed and danced to the music and were quiet in between songs. They recognized Loup in the wings immediately and there was a lot of pointing and photo taking, but for the better part of the night, no one rushed the stage. It wasn’t until near the end of the concert that a gaggle of daring young teens boosted their smallest member onstage—a slip of a girl who couldn’t have been more than thirteen, wearing a Kate camisole with Loup’s image over a miniskirt and striped socks.

  Once onstage, she froze, overcome by the lights and shyness.

  “Hey, you.” Loup caught the girl around the waist and tossed her high into the air, catching her and perching her narrow backside on one shoulder, holding her in place with one arm. The girl’s friends convulsed with giggles. “You want to take a picture?” She mimed it with her free hand.

  A dozen cameras flashed.

  “Okay, down you go.” She lowered her to the stage.

  “Sank you!” the girl breathed. She gave Loup a quick, unexpected hug. “Tell Charlie I love him best!”

  Loup laughed. “Okay, I will.” She swung the girl back down to her waiting friends, who fell all over themselves to congratulate her.

  It was the only incident of the night.

  “That was sweet,” Pilar said afterward in the hotel room.

  “Yeah. She was cute.” Loup wriggled on the bed and stretched luxuriantly, happy not to be tired and achy. “Probably bound for a bad end. She’s got a crush on Charlie.”

  “Oh, she doesn’t know any better. She’s just a kid.”

  “I dunno, that bad-boy gene’s pretty strong.”

  “Mmm.” Pilar stroked Loup’s bare stomach. “So how come I ended up with the good girl?”

  She smiled. “ ’Cause the one-in-a-hundred gene’s stronger.”

  “I don’t think it’s genetic.” Pilar slid closer, inhaling her scent. “I think it’s pheromones or something. Did you know you smell good even when you’re hot and sweaty?”

  “I didn’t work hard enough to get hot and sweaty tonight.”

  “Yeah, but when you do.”

  Loup twined one hand in Pilar’s hair. “So I’m a good girl, huh?”

  “A badass, but a good girl.” She kissed her. “You never do anything mean and spiteful. You made that kid so happy tonight.”

  “I was just doing my job.”

  “You’re good with kids.” Pilar cocked her head. “You think we might want ’em someday?”

  “Kids?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I dunno.” Loup blinked. “Do you?”

  She considered. “Yeah, maybe. Not for a long, long time. But maybe after you get done saving the world or whatever.” She gave Loup a little shake. “Because I do plan on being with you for a long, long time. Did you do your meditation today?”

  “On the plane, yeah.”

  “Only on the plane?”

  “For over an hour.” She pulled Pilar effortlessly atop her. “And I’ll do it again tomorrow morning when you’re in the shower, because you take for fucking ever. But right now I don’t want to talk about meditating or our imaginary kids or how long I’m going to live.”

  Pilar smiled. “No?”

  “No.” Loup tugged her head down and kissed her.

  “Saving the world, maybe?” she asked, a little breathless.

  “Pilar!”

  “What? Am I being a tease?”

  “Yes,” Loup growled, rolling her over and pinning her to the bed. “It’s late and I’m not tired. And you are so getting ravished.”

  She sighed happily. “Yay!”

  THIRTY-FOUR

  Tokyo was crazy.

  It was hustle and bustle and relentless neon street scenes that beggared the imagination.

  “Do you know there are sex clubs where you can get anything you want?” Charlie said dreamily aboard the tour bus. “Anything.”

  Pilar eyed him. “Yeah, it’s in your dossier.”

  “Hey, I thought you were down with the whole schoolgirl fantasy!” He sounded wounded.

  Geordie Davies groaned.

  “Well, maybe. But only with Loup, not some hooker.”

  “I dunno,” Loup said. “I think I’d look pretty silly.”

  “You wouldn’t,” Donny muttered.

  “You looked pretty silly as a cabin boy,” Pilar reminded her. “In an adorable kind of way. Remember? Besides, you wearing nothing but that stocking cap—”

  “Okay, okay!” Loup glanced at Donny’s pained face. “Enough.”

  He sighed. “I don’t mind.”

  “I do.” She clamped her hand over Pilar’s mouth. “So, hey! Last venue, huh?”

  The band exchanged glances. “Yeah,” Randall said softly. “Contract’s up after this, eh? Turns into a question of what comes next, doesn’t it?”

  Pilar pulled Loup’s hand away. “What are you thinking?”

  “We’re headed into the studio after the tour. But we don’t want to lose you, do we?” He smiled wryly and nodded at Loup. “New face of Kate and all. I hear Ms. Dunbar called. We’re gonna make the cover. It’s a thing now, isn’t it? We’re in it for the long haul.”

  “It’s a thing,” Loup agreed.

  “Call Magnus,” Pilar suggested. “Mr. Lindberg. I’m sure he can arrange some kind of retainer deal.”

  “So you’d be ours? All ours?” Donny flushed.

  “In a manner of speaking.”

  His flush deepened.
“Well, I know that!”

  Their gigs in Tokyo were at the Budokan, a famous and venerable venue that held ten thousand people. Both gigs were sold out, and it was obvious even before the first concert started that this crowd was different from the one in Osaka.

  “A lot of hipsters out there tonight,” Bill Jones confirmed backstage.

  Charlie snickered. “Hipsters?”

  “Posers, Goths, punks, whatever they’re called these days. Lots of dyed spiky hair, black leather, and ripped jeans. Plus some that look like they came out of those cartoons they have here.”

  “Cool.” Randall bobbed his head. “Very cool.”

  Still, the crowd stayed docile while Kate played the upbeat pop tunes from their hit album. It wasn’t until they tried out some of the new music that the crowd began to roil, the older fans pushing their way through the ardent teenyboppers to mob the front of the stage.

  “Heads up,” Bill Jones’ voice said in Loup’s earpiece as the band launched into “Cages,” playing it live for the first time.

  She nodded.

  There was a surge. Two young men were crowd surfing, being passed hand by hand over the audience toward the stage. Loup picked the closest one and grabbed his ankles the minute his boots hit the stage. She dragged him backward, then whipped him around, hooking her arms under his and lowering him back into the pit before he had a chance to blink.

  The second surfer was onstage, raising his arms. He shot a triumphant sideways glance at Loup through a shock of red-streaked hair and prepared to stage dive into the crowd.

  “Oh, no you don’t.” She got there in time to catch him middive, staggering a little under the impact. He let out a woof as her shoulder drove into his midsection. She spun him once, then lowered him without fanfare.

  More were coming. A lot more.

  “Gonna need backup,” Loup said into her headset.

  Before it could arrive, the music stopped abruptly and the crowd quieted.

  “Hey,” Randall said, his mellow voice echoing over the amplifier. “Be cool, people. We know you all want a shot at the world’s best bodyguard. And she’s cool, she’ll let you take it. But if you’re all gonna rush the stage at once, we’re gonna have to pull her and replace her with a bunch of big ugly guys who aren’t as nice to look at. Don’t you have some kind of samurai code here? One at a time, okay?”

  There was a general murmur of assent, and a few catcalls for the samurai comment.

  “Okay.” He motioned to the band and they started playing again.

  Loup watched the crowd. After several moments of nonverbal communication, they picked one spiky-haired hipster to hoist in the air and surf toward the stage. She touched her headset. “I’m good. Cancel backup.”

  Jones’ voice crackled in her ear. “You sure?”

  “Yep.” She moved to intercept the spiky boy. “The fans really are more polite here, even when they’re not.”

  After the usual backstage mayhem, the band put in a brief appearance at an after-party at a noisy club. Even in their private room, the music was loud and pounding. The band members surveyed the hopeful fans outside the door, preparing to pick and choose.

  “Do they have food here?” Loup shouted to Pilar. “I’m starving!”

  She shook her head. “Want an energy bar?”

  Loup made a face. “I guess.”

  “I have a better idea.” She put her lips close to Loup’s ear. “Ask Bill if he can handle this without you for a few minutes.”

  “Okay.”

  With Bill Jones’ blessing, Loup let Pilar lead her outside to a yakitori stand where a handful of club-goers were clustered on stools around a counter and others were milling around, eating charcoal-grilled barbecue chicken on skewers.

  “Oh, wow.” Loup sniffed the air. “That smells really good.”

  Pilar pointed and held up two fingers. “Two, please? Yakitori? Am I saying that right?” The vendor smiled and handed over a pair of skewers. She passed them to Loup. “Good?”

  Loup took a bite. “Really good. Maybe two more?”

  “You bet, baby.”

  The club-goers murmured among themselves. At length a pretty girl in a minidress and high platform boots was dispatched, tripping over to question them.

  “Excuse me?” She nodded at Loup’s security togs. “You are… Kate?”

  “I’m with Kate, yeah.”

  The girl called something back to the others in Japanese. Out came the cameras and Dataphones. “Mystery Girl, yes! May we take photos with you?”

  “Can I finish eating?” Loup asked helplessly.

  “You don’t want to get between her and food,” Pilar warned the girl. “She’ll bite your hand off.”

  Her eyes widened. “So sorry! You are Kate, also?”

  “Sort of, sure. I’m with the band.”

  One of the club-goer boys swooped over to scoop up the girl in the minidress, slinging her over his shoulder. “Kate, yes!” he cried, twirling her. She yelled at him and pounded her fists on his back. He ignored it. “Now I am Mystery Girl!”

  Pilar giggled.

  “Okay, okay,” Loup said, good-natured. She tossed her empty skewers in the receptacle on the counter. “I’m done. Everyone can take a picture if they like.”

  They were still posing and chatting with the fans, drawing an increasing crowd when the security team emerged from the club with the band and their chosen groupies.

  “Oy!” Bill Jones said, disgruntled. “That was a helluva lot longer than a few minutes! You’re on the job, eh?”

  “Yes, sir! Sorry, sir!”

  “It’s cool.” Randall had his arms draped over a pair of Japanese fans who might or might not have been sisters. “It’s publicity, man. It’s all good.” He peered at Loup and Pilar through his bangs. “You’re in the limo with us, right?”

  Loup shrugged. “If you say so.”

  “I do.”

  “Oh, just get in.” Jones opened the limo door and started shoving bodies inside. “Horny prats.”

  Back at the hotel, they saw the band safely ensconced in the suite with their groupies and declined the traditional invitation to stay and party with them.

  “You feel okay, baby?” Pilar asked in their room. “Not too sore?”

  “Yeah.” Loup rolled her shoulders. “Think I might shower.”

  “Okay.” She turned on the TV and flipped it to the international news channel. “I made an appointment for a massage for you at the hotel spa tomorrow. I think you might like it. It’s supposed to be really good.”

  “Thanks, Pilar.”

  “Sure.”

  Loup took a quick shower, washing off the sweat of the night’s exertion and the impression of strange hands grabbing at her. She emerged to find Pilar staring at the television, transfixed. Her pulse quickened instinctively. “News?”

  “News,” Pilar affirmed. She shook herself. “Holy fuck, yes. Some guys on the Oversight Committee have crossed over to join the Reform Caucus. Congress is gonna hold hearings on the Outposts.”

  “That’s great!”

  “Yeah, but.” Pilar turned a stricken face her way. “There’s a rumor that their star witness has disappeared.”

  “Miguel?”

  “Miguel fucking Garza, yeah.”

  “Shit!” Loup swore and rummaged for her Dataphone. “Shit, I need to talk to that senator. I can’t call him now, can I? It’s the middle of the night.”

  “Not in the U.S.”

  “What time is it there?”

  Pilar calculated. “Midafternoon yesterday. You’re good.”

  “It’s yesterday there? That’s so weird.” Loup rang the number. “Yeah, hi! Hello, Senator Ballantine. This is Loup Garron. What’s going on? Is it true that Miguel’s disappeared?” She listened. “Oh, c’mon, he’s like family! It’s a small town, you know? Please?” There was a long pause. “That’s… wow. Oh, Mig! Okay. We have to figure out a way to get him out of this. About those hearings—” She caught a warning
look from Pilar. “Let me call you back.”

  She ended the call.

  Pilar shivered. “Baby?”

  “Mig’s being held hostage.” Loup paced restlessly. “Fucking idiot. He finally managed to give them the slip two days before the announcement. Then the announcement comes out and they get a call from some skeevy hotel bigwig in Las Vegas. Says the casino caught Mig cheating at blackjack and they’re keeping him in custody until his fine’s paid.”

  “How much?”

  “Ten million.”

  “That’s ridiculous!” Pilar said indignantly. “That’s just blackmail. Why don’t they call the police?”

  Loup shook her head. “Can’t trust ’em. There’s too much government pressure to make Miguel disappear. They’re trying to keep it quiet while they negotiate, but the rumor’s already out there. And without Miguel’s testimony, there might not be any hearings.”

  “Fuck.” She was quiet a moment. “Loup, can we please be smart about this? Why don’t I go testify?”

  Loup blinked. “You?”

  “Why not? I was born and raised in Outpost. My testimony’s as good as Miguel’s. And the army’s not after me, just you.”

  “You’d do that?” Loup’s voice softened. “All alone? It’s not like it would exactly be safe for you, either. Not with a fake passport.”

  Pilar swallowed. “No. I know. But maybe I can get them to promise me… whaddya call it? Amnesty? It’s my town, too, baby. Those were my friends we left behind, the closest thing I had to family other than you. Father Ramon, Sister Martha, Mackie… do you think I wouldn’t do anything I could to help them?”

  “No, I know you would.” Loup smiled, her heart aching a bit. “You’re muy macha now, sí? But what about Miguel?”

  “Fuck Miguel fucking Garza!” Pilar raked her hand through her hair in a quick, angry gesture. “He got himself into this, let him get himself out of it!”

  “I pushed him,” Loup said stubbornly.

  “To cheat at blackjack? I don’t think so, baby.”

  “No, okay. If that part’s true, it was monumentally stupid. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. Miguel’s a lot smarter than he acts, but he’s lazy and he likes taking shortcuts. But the hero thing.” Loup shrugged. “You say I have this effect on people. Maybe that’s true, too. But it’s never on purpose. I never pushed anyone to take that kind of risk. Except Miguel. I asked him to do this. I owe him. I can’t just leave him in trouble. I have to do something!”