[Santa Olivia 02] - Saints Astray

by Jacqueline Carey

  She liked it all.

  A lot.

  “Is it supposed to change?” Loup asked afterward.

  “Hmm?” Pilar came back from a faraway, satiated place.

  “Sex.”

  “God, I hope not.” She smiled. “I mean, yeah, that white-hot, gotta-have-you feeling usually does fade after a while. At least with everyone else. But I don’t know, baby. I’ve never known anything as intense as being with you. Maybe it won’t ever change.” She turned on her side. “You really don’t ever wonder what it would be like with someone else?”

  “Do you?”

  “No, but I told you, I already know. You’re not like anyone else in the world, Loup.”

  “There are my cousins.”

  “True.” Pilar glided her hand along the firm curve of Loup’s waist. “But it’s not the same thing. I like you being a girl.”

  “Don’t I seem to remember you turning a dozen shades of red and telling me you weren’t queer when I told you I wished Mack was you?”

  “Oh, hush.” Pilar kissed her. “Queerer than I thought, okay?”

  “You think?”

  She gave Loup’s hair a yank. “You never answered my question.”

  “No,” Loup said honestly. “I mean, I’m not oblivious. I can recognize when someone’s attractive and appreciate it. But I don’t wonder. I love you. And maybe we found each other because we were meant to be together, you know? Maybe it just works that way sometimes. You make me happy like no one else in the world does. Including poor Donny, okay?”

  “Was it okay with him tonight? Your date?”

  “It wasn’t a date!”

  “Did he try to kiss you good night?”

  Loup hesitated.

  “Did you let him?” Pilar raised her eyebrows. “Ohmigod, you totally did.”

  “There was no touching and no tongue, okay? Very chaste. Like a goodbye kiss.” She gave her a serious look. “And don’t go teasing him about it. I think we really did need to have the talk we did. It was good. I think he understands now. Really and truly.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Oh, please! You are not going to get jealous after I just finished explaining for the second time tonight that you’re the only person in the world I want.”

  Pilar relented and leaned over to kiss her. “Okay, okay!”

  “I mean, ten minutes ago you were all worked up about trying to be selfless!”

  “Yeah, more like two hours ago. And you did a pretty thorough job of convincing me not to.” She sighed. “I’m sorry, baby. It’s not about Donny. I think it’s sweet that you let him kiss you good night instead of knocking his head off, I do. I’m just scared. About what we’re doing, whether we’re doing the right thing. And most of all, I’m scared of losing you again, maybe forever this time, because I love you so fucking much it hurts.”

  “You won’t.”

  “You can’t know that, Loup.”

  She slid her arms around Pilar. “I won’t let it happen. You won’t let it happen. We have to believe, remember?”

  “Sí, Santa Olivia.” Pilar gave her a teary smile. “And I do, you know I do. You’re my miracle. I just can’t help being scared.”

  “That’s okay.” Loup kissed her cheek. “You be scared for both of us. Someone has to.”

  “Thanks, baby.”

  “You bet.”

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  In the morning, Donny revealed his idea.

  “Mob the place with Kate fans,” he suggested. “We’ll smuggle your bloke in the middle of them, sneak him out with the entourage, yeah? Have a couple of limos waiting and Bob’s your uncle.”

  “Can we do that?” Loup asked.

  “Sure.” Pilar waved her Dataphone. “All we have to do is leak it to the fan feeds. Tell them Kate’s gonna be there signing autographs and giving away T-shirts to raise awareness for their new civil rights cause.”

  “The timing’s tight.”

  “Well, we can give them a heads-up about the Hellfire Club. Once we know where Miguel is, we can figure out the timing.”

  Geordie cleared his throat. “Exactly how do you plan to get into the room where this Miguel is being held?”

  “I dunno.” Loup shrugged. “Break down the door?”

  He winced.

  “Aw, c’mon!” Donny said. “Don’t you watch the movies? You steal a cart and pretend you’re there to deliver room service. If they say they didn’t order anything, you just say, ‘Compliments of the house, sir.’ ”

  “You ever notice how in the movies, they skip over the part where they actually steal the delivery cart?” Pilar said, skeptical. “They don’t just leave those things sitting around unattended. And there’s a lot of security at this place. Cameras, guards. I’m pretty sure they’d be on us right away.”

  “Chambermaid uniform,” Charlie suggested.

  “They don’t leave those lying around, either,” she pointed out. “And I’m not real crazy about mugging a maid and stealing her clothes. What are we gonna do, tie her up and lock her in the bathroom?”

  Geordie groaned.

  “Nah.” Charlie grinned. “These casinos cater to their VIP guests, right? Call the concierge and tell him one of the members of Kate fancies some authentic Hellfire Club chambermaid togs for a bit of role-playing.”

  Pilar gave him a startled look. “You know, that’s a pretty good idea.”

  “Takes a pervert.”

  They planted the rumor on the fan feeds and watched it spread.

  “Think Kate has enough fans in Las Vegas to make a mob?” Loup asked. “I mean, it’s not a place where a lot of real people live, is it?”

  “Sure it is,” Pilar said. “All those casinos, people work there. Dealers and housekeeping and waiters and stuff. Working their butts off so a handful of people like Mr. Skeevy can get rich.” She made a wry face. “Kinda like the way everyone in Outpost worked their butts off so a handful of people like Miguel Garza could get rich.”

  “True.”

  “I can’t believe we’re doing this for him.”

  “You don’t have to,” Loup said earnestly. “You could fly directly into D.C. and we could meet you there.”

  “Oh, no.” Pilar shot her a glance. “I’m not letting you out of my sight, fearless wonder. Loup, I’m not so sure flying’s gonna be a good idea after the casino. If we really do get Miguel out of there, we’re definitely not gonna be off the radar anymore.”

  “Tour bus?”

  “Pretty easy to spot.” She hesitated. “Much as I hate to say it, I think it would probably be for the best if you and Miguel and I made the drive alone.”

  “What about Kate?”

  “They can fly, they’ll be okay. After all, I don’t think Mr. Skeevy’s gonna go to the police and say I think a rock band helped steal my hostage. They’ll be there legally; they’re too famous to get conveniently disappeared, and I’m pretty sure none of them are fugitives from a military prison.” She sighed. “I don’t know, baby. Maybe I’m just being paranoid. But this guy, Harwell—”

  “Who’s Harwell?”

  “Mr. Skeevy. That’s his name, Terrence Harwell. We’ll be caught on camera; there’s no way to avoid it. Maybe he hasn’t sold Miguel to the bad guys yet, or maybe the bad guys don’t want him anymore, but I’m pretty sure he’s skeevy enough to sell them the intel if we pull this off. And I’m pretty sure they’ll want it.”

  Loup nodded. “Okay. I trust you.”

  “Believe me, I’d never suggest it if I didn’t think it was important. A long cross-country drive with Miguel fucking Garza is not my idea of a good time.”

  “Mine either.”

  They broke the news to the band over dinner.

  “Bummer.” Randall tossed his bangs. “So we’ll meet up in D.C. after the Vegas caper, yeah?”

  “That’s the plan,” Loup agreed.

  “Cool.”

  Loup and Pilar flew out early the following morning, the band and the rest of their entourage to
follow later in the day. Pilar was anxious at check-in, but the agent only gave their passports a cursory glance before returning them. Throughout the takeoff, Pilar held Loup’s hand in a tight grip, releasing it with a shudder once they were well in the air.

  “Muy macha,” Loup whispered softly in her ear.

  “I’m trying.”

  At the end of a long, boring flight they landed in Las Vegas.

  “Holy shit!” Loup gazed out the window during the approach, amazed by the sight of the hulking casinos dwarfing their surroundings on the flat desert floor. “There’s a pyramid, and a castle, and a roller coaster, and an I-don’t-know-what. They’re crazy huge. It’s totally… what’s the word?”

  Pilar took a firm grip of Loup’s arm and snuck a peek. “Surreal?”

  “Yeah.” She gave her a wide-eyed look. “America, huh?”

  A hard swallow. “Uh-huh.”

  It felt strange to enter a country that should have been home and legally wasn’t. A hard-eyed immigration agent studied their Canadian passports and questioned them at length about their travel, their backgrounds, and their plans for the duration of the visit. Pilar, visibly nervous, launched into a long, babbling explanation of the purpose of their visit, inventing a fantasy about being a Las Vegas showgirl.

  “Enjoy the show and go home,” the agent said curtly. He stamped her passport. “We don’t hire illegals here.”

  “Okay. Thanks, I will.”

  He stamped Loup’s passport. “Next!”

  “Jesus!” Once they got through customs, Pilar wilted. “What an asshole!”

  “Welcome home,” Loup said philosophically. “At least we know for sure that Guadalupe Herrera and Pilar Mendez aren’t on the radar yet. You okay?”

  “Yeah.” She gathered herself. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Outside, a dry heat assailed them. Waiting in the line at the taxi stand, Loup breathed deeply, smelling the acrid desert smell beneath the gas fumes. “It does remind me of home, though. The way it smells.”

  “Santa Olivia.”

  “Yep.”

  “Father Ramon, Sister Martha,” Pilar murmured under her breath. “Anna, Mack, Jaime and Jane, C.C., Kotch, T.Y., Diego, and Maria… okay. I can do this. Miguel fucking Garza. I can do this.”

  “Of course you can.”

  “Shut up.”

  The taxi took them to the Hellfire Club, tall and gleaming. A pair of artificial rivers flanked the impressive entrance, black water cascading into an apparent abyss. Mildly sulfurous fumes floated above the water. A doorman with horns and a forked tail poking out beneath his scarlet brocade livery coat winked at them as he ushered them through the vast automatic doors. “Good afternoon, girls. Welcome to Hell.”

  They entered the casino.

  “Whoa,” Loup said.

  “Whoa,” Pilar agreed. Acres of tenebrous casino stretched before them. More Stygian water trickled from the rocky walls, wafting fumes. The flickering lighting mimicked oil lamps. The dealers wore scarlet vests and devil horns. “Why couldn’t Miguel get himself taken hostage at that nice place with the gondolas?”

  Loup eyed a pert waitress dressed as a scantily clad scarlet imp. “I’m guessing he liked the decor.”

  “Figures.”

  They found the reception Grotto of Doom where a behorned and bespectacled desk clerk greeted them with nonsinister cheer. She offered to change their reservation from a single king-sized bed to a pair of doubles.

  “No thanks,” Pilar said absently, signing the registration form.

  “It’s no trouble.”

  She gave the clerk a look edged with low-grade smolder.

  “Sorry!” The clerk slid two laminated tickets across the counter. “Let me give you a couple of complimentary passes to Hades with my apologies.” She smiled brightly. “It’s our underground club. They cater to all kinds of tastes there. I’m sure you’ll find it very interesting.”

  Loup glanced at the image of a bound, writhing soul in torment on the ticket. “No doubt.”

  “Charlie’s gonna love it here,” Pilar murmured. “The little pervert.”

  “Charlie, Charlie…” The clerk frowned and typed something into her computer. “Ohmigod! I should have seen the note. You’re Kate’s liaison!” She looked Loup up and down, her eyes widening. “That means you’re—”

  “Shhh.” Loup put her finger to her lips. “A secret.”

  “I know!” The desk clerk lowered her voice to a hushed whisper. “You’re Mystery Girl, aren’t you?”

  “Don’t tell a soul about her,” Pilar warned her. “Not even management.”

  “I won’t.” Her eyes were bright. “Is it true Kate’s going to be signing autographs and giving away T-shirts later?”

  “Yep.” Pilar scooped up their room keys. “Watch the feeds and tell all your friends.”

  “I will!”

  Their hotel room was a chamber of crimson murkitude. Pilar threw herself on the bed and nearly slid right off the scarlet satin cover. “Holy shit, this thing’s slippery!”

  Loup laughed.

  “It’s not funny!” Pilar smiled. “Okay, it’s funny. But I’m not so sure about Devil Girl downstairs. We’re here five minutes and you’re already on someone’s radar.”

  “Yeah, well, we can’t have it both ways,” she said pragmatically. “You want to go check the place out?”

  “Sure.”

  They wandered through the labyrinth of eternal night that was the Hellfire Club casino, trying not to giggle at the horn-sprouting dealers who tried to entice them into games of blackjack, craps, or roulette. There was a distant soundtrack of atonal music that was meant to be spooky, but even though the casino was sparsely populated, the mood was offset by the constant ringing and dinging of slot machines.

  “You wanna try it?” Pilar offered.

  Loup eyed a slot machine. “I guess.” She fished out a quarter and fed it into the machine, then pulled the lever. Two leering devil heads and a grinning skull lined up. Nothing else happened. “Huh.”

  Pilar tried it and got a skull and two hooded hangmen. “ ’Kay. I’m over it.”

  They worked their way to the center of the casino. It was built on an open plan around an immense escalator that rose in stages into the loaming gloom. A bored-looking guy wearing a white loincloth and angel’s wings stood at the base of the escalator.

  “Stairway to Heaven!” he called, catching Pilar’s eye. “C’mere, sweetheart.”

  “Heaven, huh?”

  He pointed upward. “All the way to the top, and only accessible by the moving stairs.”

  “Bet that seemed like a good idea at the time,” Loup observed.

  “Yeah.” The angel grinned ruefully and handed them a pair of tickets. “The club opens at seven. They like me to comp the pretty ones. The action’s not as hot as Hades, but I can guarantee you won’t have to pay for a drink all night.”

  “Thanks.” Pilar kissed his cheek.

  He blinked. “You’re quite welcome!”

  “That was for luck.” She smiled at him. “I never met an angel before.”

  The angel regarded her with distinctly secular approval. “Sweetheart, trust me. You don’t need luck.”

  “Oh, you’d be surprised.” Her Dataphone rang. She moved away to answer it. Loup followed, waving a cheerful goodbye to the amused angel. “Yeah, okay. We’re here. Call us when you get here.”

  “The boys?”

  Pilar nodded. “They just landed at the airport. Operation Free Miguel is about to get underway.”

  THIRTY-NINE

  Pilar scored first in her contest with Randall. She ordered room service while the band was still napping after their flight.

  Exiled from their room, Loup was sitting at a roulette table alternately winning and losing money and trying to figure out the intricacies of the game when her Dataphone rang. “Yeah?”

  “C’mon up, baby!” Pilar sounded happy and excited. “I got it!”

  “Serio
usly?”

  “Yes, seriously.”

  “I’ll be right there.” She hopped off the stool at full speed without thinking. The dealer gave her a startled look. Loup swore softly and reminded herself to be careful and slow down now that she was back in the United States. “Thanks,” she said, tipping the dealer a chip the way she’d seen other players do. “Gotta go.”

  She found Pilar looking smug, wearing the clinging, low-cut floral dress she’d worn to Fiorella Picco’s wedding, dangling a high fuck-me heel from one foot.

  “So?”

  “Suite fifteen-thirty.”

  Loup smiled. “He’s sure?”

  “Pretty much.” Her smug look faded. “He’s never actually seen Miguel, just heard the rumors. And I had to be kind of tactful in a flirty sort of way. But if a casino works the same way a small-town bar does, there’s no keeping secrets from the staff.”

  “I’m sure it does.” Loup sniffed the air. “Filet mignon?”

  “Uh-huh.” Pilar nudged the tray toward her. “Go ahead, you little carnivore. I ordered it for you. I’m not hungry.”

  “Thanks!”

  By the time Loup had finished, the band was awake and had checked in with them. Their suite was on the sixteenth floor. Donny came up to deliver a room key to them.

  “Otherwise the elevator won’t stop,” he explained. “Fifteenth and sixteenth floors are reserved access. Luxury suites and all.”

  Their luxury suite was decked out in the same scarlet Hellfire trimmings. The main parlor featured a large fireplace and was centered around an immense sunken black marble hot tub in which Charlie was lolling naked, a drink in his hand.

  “Christ in a wheelbarrow!” He eyed Pilar. “Nice dress. Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

  “No. Just the room service delivery guy.”

  “Fuck me.” Randall wandered into the room, a towel around his waist, his hair damp. “That’s no fair. I haven’t even started.”

  “I got a room number, that’s all.”

  “What else do you need?”

  “Confirmation,” Loup said matter-of-factly. “Pilar’s guy hadn’t actually seen Miguel. And it would be good to know stuff like how many guards there are and whether or not they’re armed.”