[Santa Olivia 02] - Saints Astray

by Jacqueline Carey

  “Give me.” He beckoned. “I can use it for leverage, eh? Like I already know. Ooh, love, tell me about the bloke in…?”

  “Fifteen-thirty,” Pilar supplied.

  He nodded energetically. “There you go.”

  “Um… mate?” Charlie gestured around with his drink. “Housekeeping’s done here for the day. You’re gonna have to wait.”

  Randall snatched the drink out of his hand and dropped it, letting it shatter on the marble tiles around the hot tub. “Oops. Housekeeping!”

  “Goddamnit!” Charlie hollered, standing upright and dripping. “That was my whiskey!”

  Donny winced. “Go put some clothes on, you bloody tosser. No one wants to see your dangly bits. Let’s get out of here and let Rand work his magic, right?”

  “Fine.” Charlie began clambering out of the tub.

  “Mind you don’t cut your feet, you idjit!”

  “Ah, shut it.”

  They left Randall in the suite and descended on the casino, accompanied by Loup and Pilar and several of Bill Jones’ more trusted security guards. The band members played endless hands of blackjack, drank copious amounts, and flirted with the waitress imps.

  “Hey.” Randall slouched down to join them. “You really gonna wear one of those maid uniforms?” he asked Loup.

  “Why? What do they look like?”

  He nodded at one of the scarlet imps. “Kinda like that only with a frilly apron.”

  Loup made a face. “Guess so.” She took him by the arm and hauled him out of earshot. “So? Any luck?”

  “Yeah.” Randall gave her a slow, lazy grin. “She wasn’t a Kate fan, but I plied her with liquor and charm. Pilar’s right, they’ve got him in fifteen-thirty. Two armed guards. She never saw any guns, but she says everyone knows Harwell’s guards carry. Sounds like he’s a pretty dicey character.”

  “Thanks, Rand.” She gave him an impulsive hug. “That’s awesome.”

  “Oof!”

  “Sorry.” Loup let him go.

  “It’s cool.” He looked around. “So no paparazzi, huh?”

  “No, it’s been quiet. I, um, don’t think this place is exactly a hotbed of hipsters. And let’s face it, a lot of Kate fans are in bed on a school night.”

  “Oh, well.” He shrugged. “At least we get to party in peace.”

  Party they did. After losing a fair bit of money at the blackjack tables, the band decided it was time to explore Hades. They descended to the underground level in the special theme elevator that had massive grated metal doors operated by a burly man in a hangman’s hood. It opened onto another vast, cavernous space lit by strobing scarlet lights. Tortured music wailed around a throbbing dance beat. Hades, at least, was hip enough that the dance floor writhed with bodies. All around the perimeter of the cavern various scenes were being played out in shadowy grottoes.

  “Holy crap!” Pilar watched a woman in devil’s horns and thigh-high boots lift a narrow cane over a chained figure. “Is she doing what I think she’s doing?”

  The whistle of the cane was inaudible over the music, but the chained man jerked visibly when it landed.

  “Yep,” Loup said.

  “Did you know this was Mig’s scene?”

  “No,” she said thoughtfully. “I have to say I’m a little surprised.”

  It took almost two hours for the band to tire of it and round up a trio of Goth-looking newly converted groupies. After that they wanted to play more blackjack before hauling their prizes back to the suite. The scarlet waitress imps couldn’t bring the drinks fast enough to suit them.

  “Sorry, sir.” One of the imps hustled over with a bottle of single malt and three glasses on a tray. “Courtesy of Mr. Harwell.”

  “Who’s he?” Charlie asked belligerently.

  “Your host.” She nodded at a heavyset man in an expensive suit strolling through the casino. He had a gorgeous blonde on his arm and a pair of guards flanking them.

  “Mr. Skeevy,” Pilar murmured. “Who’s the babe?”

  The waitress smiled. “Trophy wife number three.”

  “Figures.”

  At last they got the band and their booty back to the suite. In short order the hot tub was filled with naked, splashing bodies and lots of streaked eyeliner.

  “Champagne!” Randall called. “Pilar, we need champagne!”

  “Yes, master.” She rang room service and ordered several bottles of champagne, adding the request for a Hellfire maid’s uniform. “Can you do that?” she said into the phone. “Wonderful! Thanks ever so much.”

  “Bet they’ve seen worse,” Loup observed.

  “Uh-huh.”

  The room service delivery guy handed it over without so much as blinking, studiously avoiding looking at the naked people cavorting in the hot tub. Pilar signed the tab and added a generous tip.

  Loup glanced at the neatly folded bundle of scarlet and white material. “Looks pretty small.”

  “Mmm. It does, doesn’t it?” Pilar handed her a bottle of champagne. “Open that up to get the boys started; then we can go back to our room and you can try it on. I’m afraid if we leave it here Charlie will do something disgusting with it.”

  They left over the boys’ protests.

  “It’s early!” Donny said with his wounded look. “Why don’t you stay for a while and join us?” He paddled his hands in the water. “It’s nice in here.”

  “You think you’re too good for us?” one of the Goth girls asked suspiciously, eyeing Pilar. “You in your girlie-girl dress? You afraid you might catch something?”

  Pilar wrinkled her nose. “Ew!”

  “We’re clean,” one of the others assured Charlie.

  “No, it’s just that we work for these guys and we have a lot of planning to do,” Loup said diplomatically. She caught Randall’s eye. “For the special promotional event?”

  “Right, right.” He nodded, wet hair flopping. “Go ahead, we’ll talk in the morning. Or, um, afternoon, maybe. Could be a late night. You’re not trying to think of pulling off the event tomorrow?”

  “No, the day after.”

  “That’s a Saturday?”

  “Yes,” Pilar said. “So all the wee Kate fans will be out of school. Is it okay if I leak the details to the fan feeds?”

  “Yeah, sure,” Randall agreed.

  “Thanks.” She grabbed Loup’s hand. “C’mon, baby. We’ve got work to do.”

  In their room, Loup unfolded the maid’s uniform and regarded it with disbelief. It consisted of a scarlet bodysuit with capped sleeves and a very short flouncy skirt attached to it, a headband with a pair of satin devil horns, a frilly white apron, and a pair of red ballet flats. “They actually make people clean rooms wearing this? No wonder we haven’t seen any of the housekeeping staff. They’re all in hiding.”

  “Try it on.”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

  “Hey, you’ve got to make sure it fits, right?” Pilar pointed. “Try it on in the bathroom. I want to get the full effect all at once.”

  Loup went, grumbling.

  It fit, sleek and tight. The skirt barely covered her buttocks. The apron was ridiculously nonfunctional.

  Pilar giggled. “That’s so wrong it’s almost right.”

  “Oh, please!”

  “Thought you didn’t get embarrassed, baby.”

  “Yeah, well, that doesn’t mean I can’t recognize an absurdly cheesy fantasy when I’m wearing it.” She gave Pilar a suspicious look. “Tell me you don’t think this is sexy.”

  “On you?” Pilar reclined on her elbows. “Well, let’s just say if you came in here wearing that right this minute, maybe I’d say I was oh, so tired after a night of dancing and gambling. And maybe I’d ask you ever so innocently to help me take off these strappy high heels…” She lifted one leg suggestively, pointing and rotating her foot, then let out a startled squeak as Loup grabbed her by both ankles and yanked her forward, sliding her effortlessly over the slippery satin comforter.

&nb
sp; “And what if I said I wanted you to keep the strappy high heels on?” Loup asked in a low voice. “Hmm?”

  “Who’s got a fetish now?” Pilar asked, breathless. “I didn’t expect the chambermaid to be so assertive.”

  “Complaining?” She slid her hands upward, pushing the fabric of Pilar’s dress toward her hips.

  “God, no!”

  FORTY

  First thing in the morning, Pilar posted the update on Kate’s promotional appearance to their fan feeds, then called Geordie Davies to coordinate. She listened to him with a pained expression. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll handle the limo arrangements, and I’ll book your flights to D.C. and the hotel. But after that—” She held the phone away from her ear. “Sorry!”

  “He’s pissed that we’re bailing?” Loup asked when she was done.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “But he’s gonna go through with it?”

  “Yep.” Pilar rubbed her ear. “I think he knows this could be big.”

  They ordered breakfast from room service and pored over the hotel’s security specs, putting a plan together.

  “Wish the guards weren’t armed,” Pilar murmured.

  “Yeah, me too.” Loup caught her look. “What? I’m thinking. I can think.”

  She kissed her. “Yes, you can. And frankly, I don’t want to think about the part with the armed guards anymore or I’ll get all freaked out. Baby, can I give you a few errands to run? We need a few things and I need to do some research for our cross-country adventure with Miguel fucking Garza.”

  “Sure.”

  Loup ran errands.

  Pilar made arrangements.

  The band woke up, hungover.

  “What?” Pilar said irritably into the phone. “Charlie, you’re just dehydrated. It’s too soon to be anything else. Drink more water. If it still burns at the end of the day, we’ll call a doctor. And for fuck’s sake, stay out of that hot tub! It’s a breeding dish for germs.” She hung up.

  “Our heroes,” Loup commented.

  “God love ’em,” Pilar agreed.

  That night there were paparazzi—not many, but a few. They photographed the members of Kate in the casino. One in particular identified Loup.

  “Hey! Aren’t you their cult bodyguard? Over here!”

  She turned her head away from the camera.

  “Get her out of here,” Donny muttered to Pilar. “It’s too soon for her to be getting this kind of exposure here, eh? We’ll be okay without you.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.” He shoved her. “Hurry.”

  They went to Heaven.

  Heaven was lame.

  “Tell me again what you do?” a businessman in a pin-striped suit asked, sidling close to Pilar on an overstuffed white satin settee. He pushed a drink in her direction and peered at her cleavage. “I’m very interested.”

  “Secret agent bodyguard.”

  He blinked. “Secret what?”

  She ignored him and stood, holding out her hand to Loup. “Fuck this. You want to call it a night and go to bed?”

  “Definitely,” Loup said.

  The next morning they went over their plan a final time and packed all their things in a single duffel bag. Loup was calm; Pilar was anxious and jittery.

  “I feel like I’m gonna throw up,” she complained. “How can you be so fucking calm? Oh, don’t answer that! I know, I know.”

  “Did you call the boys?”

  “Yeah, they’re conscious and upright.” She looked at the clock and sighed. “I just hate waiting.”

  “Why don’t you go scope out the casino for Kate fans?” Loup suggested. “See if it looks like we’ll have enough to make a mob?”

  “You’re just trying to distract me, aren’t you?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  Pilar sighed again. “Fine.” She went and came back looking marginally calmer. “Yeah, it looks good. I counted at least forty or fifty wearing Kate T-shirts. If we can double it, that’s enough to disappear into.”

  At one o’clock when the band was scheduled to begin signing, the number had swelled to hundreds.

  “Okay.” Pilar took Loup’s face in her hands and kissed her. “I’m gonna go help get this show started. Go ahead and put on your uniform. I’ll be back in a little while.”

  “Don’t wait long enough for the crowd to thin out,” Loup warned her. “A lot of them might leave as soon as they get their autograph and free shirt.”

  “No, no. Randall’s gonna ask them to stick around. He’s got a speech about the new album and civil rights. He’ll start five minutes after I take off.”

  “Okay. I’ll be ready.” As soon as she left, Loup put on the ridiculous maid uniform and stretched out on the bed. She watched TV for half an hour or so, feeling her calm give way to a sense of anticipation and collected excitement. She looked up with a smile when Pilar burst into the room. “Go time?”

  “Uh-huh.” Pilar whipped her hair into a ponytail and flung an oversized Hawaiian shirt over the Kate camisole she was wearing, then hoisted the duffel bag with an effort. “You don’t have to look so happy about it.”

  Loup grabbed a stack of folded towels from the bathroom. “Sorry!”

  They hurried to the elevator. Donny’s keycard got them access to the restricted fifteenth floor. No one got on the elevator. In the hallway, they passed a nicely dressed couple who ignored them.

  “Fifteen-thirty,” Pilar whispered outside the door to the suite, her face pale.

  Loup motioned her back out of sight. She knocked on the door, holding up the pile of folded towels. “Housekeeping!”

  There was a pause, then the sound of a lock being thrown. A tall, well-built guard in a suit opened the door to admit her. Somewhere beyond him a TV was playing what sounded like a war movie at a high volume. “I didn’t call for—”

  She dropped the towels and punched him out.

  It was so fast he never even saw it coming. He dropped like a stone. Loup caught him and eased him to the floor, determining with one quick glance that they were out of the line of sight of anyone in the suite beyond the foyer. She reached into his shoulder holster and plucked out his pistol, then opened the door soundlessly and beckoned.

  Pilar entered, lugging the duffel bag. She set it down quietly and took the pistol Loup handed her. She closed her eyes briefly, then opened them and nodded.

  They sidled into the suite.

  It didn’t have a hot tub, but it had an enormous wide-screen TV. Miguel Garza and another guy in a suit were sitting side by side on a big black leather couch playing a video game, wireless consoles in their hands. They both looked up.

  “What the fuck?” The guard put down his console and stood.

  “Freeze!” Pilar took a shooter’s stance, the pistol braced.

  Miguel stared past her, thunderstruck. “Loup?”

  The guard reached for his holster.

  “I mean it.” Pilar levered the safety, her hands and voice steady. “Don’t move.”

  “She means it,” Loup agreed. “Hi, Mig. It’s good to see you.” She approached the guard, who eyed her with stunned perplexity. “Sorry about this,” she said to him. “It’s nothing personal.”

  “What—”

  She took him out with a judicious punch. “Whoops!” She caught him on the descent, wrestling him sideways. “Don’t want you to hit your head on the coffee table. You’re gonna feel bad enough as it is.”

  “Loup?” Miguel repeated, still staring. “Am I fucking hallucinating?”

  “No.” She went back to retrieve the duffel. “C’mon, we’ve got to hurry.”

  “Jesus, Ecchevarria!” He shifted his dumbstruck gaze to Pilar. “A gun? A fucking gun? Do you even have the faintest idea how to use that thing?”

  “Yep.” Pilar checked the chamber, then ejected the cartridge and handed it to Loup, who was rummaging in the duffel bag. She unbuttoned the Hawaiian shirt and shrugged out of it. “Grab me that other guy’s gun, will you?”

 
Miguel fished it out gingerly. “Why are you wearing a shirt with Loup’s picture on it? And why does it say Kate?”

  “We’ve got one for you, too, big boy.” Pilar ejected the second cartridge. “Got everything, baby?”

  “Yeah. Here.” Loup handed Miguel a Kate T-shirt and baseball cap. “Put those on.” She glanced at his khaki pants. “Do you have any jeans? You’d blend in better.”

  “Um… yeah. In the bedroom.”

  She shoved him. “Go, go! Hurry!”

  He went, stumbling with shock.

  Loup stripped off the maid’s uniform and yanked on jeans and a Kate T-shirt, shoving her feet into sneakers. Pilar took the elastic ponytail holder from her hair and handed it to Loup, who put her hair back. They crammed everything else into the duffel bag. At least at a casual glance, they weren’t readily identifiable as the same two who’d entered the suite.

  “The fuck?” Miguel emerged in T-shirt, jeans, and cap. “What are you fucking doing here? I thought the two of you were off on some nauseatingly cute lovebirds’ honeymoon tour of Western Europe!”

  “Rescuing you,” Loup said simply. “And testifying to Congress, maybe.”

  “Goddamnit!” He grabbed her shoulders and shook her. “Goddamnit, you fucking little freak! You were safe where you were! Why didn’t you stay there and let Jane fucking Bond here testify!”

  She batted his hands away. “Are you done yelling at me? Because we really have to go.”

  “I need to pack!” Miguel protested.

  Loup shook her head. “No time. C’mon, let’s move.”

  “Radio, baby,” Pilar reminded her.

  She touched her earpiece. “It’s on.”

  “No, theirs.” Pilar checked guard number two. “Got it. I’ll monitor it.”

  “Okay.” Loup slung the duffel bag over her shoulder and put on a pair of oversized dark sunglasses. “Let’s go!”

  They made for the fire stairs, dragging a bewildered Miguel behind them.

  “Hey, Bill,” Loup said into her earpiece. “We’re on the move. Okay. I’ll let you know when we’re about to hit the main floor.” She glanced behind her. “C’mon, Mig! Hurry!”