Saints Astray
Page 7

“No,” Loup said.
Pilar flushed. “Yeah, kinda. I need more magazines.”
Christophe laughed.
Her flush deepened. “I know you think it’s silly. But you know what? In Outpost, that was one of the only ways there was to see what the rest of the world was like—or what it used to be like, anyway. That the stories that my dad told me before he died were true. It’s how I learn, okay?”
“It’s not silly,” Loup said. “It’s better than watching The Sound of Music for the billionth time. I haven’t ever seen a movie made since I was born.”
Christophe looked mildly chastened. “Okay, so we will go to the movies and start your education. Then we will go buy some of those stupid magazines girls on the beach are always reading. Okay?”
“Definitely.”
They went to see an action film starring a smart-talking Australian guy that Christophe assured them was one of the hottest stars of the day. Loup marveled at the immense scale of the screen, the clarity of the picture, the booming surround sound, the fact that such things still existed in the vast outside world. Pilar clutched her arm and let out a squeak every time someone got shot or a car blew up, which happened a lot. Afterward they went to a newsstand that stocked international magazines, where Pilar selected half a dozen.
“You really think you might wanna do this?” Loup asked her.
“Yeah, maybe.” She flipped through the pages. “I don’t know. That Magnus guy sounds kinda shady, but at least he wasn’t telling us to just stay out of the way and keep our mouths shut. And I know that’s not your style, baby.” She glanced at Loup. “I know, it’s weird. I never had any ambition ’cause I figured I’d never have a chance to go anywhere or do anything. All I wanted was… well, you know.”
“A cute rich boy.”
“I gave up the cute rich boy for you, baby,” Pilar reminded her. “And anyway, it’s all different now. This, all of this.” She gestured at the bustling streets. “That store, those paintings today… it makes me want to see the world, you know?”
“Yeah.” Loup smiled. “I do.”
“And I want to go dancing,” she added. “I really, really want to go dancing. Please, can we go dancing tonight?”
“Okay, okay.”
“Did you not have dancing in Santa Olivia?” Christophe asked.
“Only sort of,” Loup said. “There was always music and dancing on Santa Olivia’s Day. Otherwise, the Salamancas ran a couple of nightclubs that had dancing, but they were for the soldiers. If a girl went, it meant she was for hire.”
“And no, I never went,” Pilar said adamantly. “Well, except for that time you guys used me as bait to get the guy who raped Katya.” She shivered. “Soldiers kinda scare me.”
“I was not going to ask,” Christophe said mildly. “And you are most definitely not the best prospect for a bodyguard. What kind of dancing do you like? Disco? Rock? Salsa? Merengue? Reggae?”
She blinked. “I dunno.”
“Then you have to let me teach you to salsa.” He grinned and executed a few steps, arms extended, hips shimmying. “You will love it. Very sensual, very fun.”
“Okay.”
“But first—”
“I can guess.” Pilar eyed him. “More food.”
“Well, yes.”
They returned to the hotel and charged another massive meal to Global Security’s account. Afterward, Christophe took them to a dance club with live music.
“Ohmigod.” Pilar gazed at the dance floor filled with swirling, twirling couples snaking around one another. “Christophe, that looks really hard.”
“Not so hard.” He took one of her hands, put the other on his shoulder. “Here is the basic step. So… so… so, and back. I lead and you follow.” He pointed at Loup. “You next, prima.”
She studied the dancers. “Okay.”
By the time Christophe led Pilar back, flushed and exhilarated, Loup had a good sense of it.
“Yes!” Christophe laughed with delight, spinning her. “You see.”
“Yep.”
“No fair,” Pilar complained. “You’re… you.”
Loup glanced over her shoulder. “Pilar, I think you have a line forming.”
She looked at the trio of men waiting to ask her to dance. “Oh, good.”
In the late hours of the night or the small hours of the morning, Christophe approached the band with a generous tip. He beckoned to Loup, smiling. “I always wanted to do this. Fast, fast, fast. You think you can keep up?”
She frowned. “Is it safe?”
He gave her a perplexed look. “Yes, of course. Why would it not be?”
It was hard to abandon a lifetime of caution. “Yeah, okay, I guess so. If you don’t get too fancy.”
“No, no.”
The music played fast.
Faster.
Faster.
The musicians sweated under the stage lights, stepping up the time, playing faster and faster. The beat doubled, then tripled. On the dance floor, couples dropped out, one by one, staring at them in amazement and whispering. Christophe’s feet moved in a blur. Loup followed him effortlessly, matching his pace.
“Woo!” He flung up his arms when the song ended with a flourish, then offered Loup his courtly bow. There was a smattering of stunned applause. “Thank you.”
Her eyes sparkled. “It was fun.”
“Yes.”
“It was fucking amazing.” Pilar extricated herself from a would-be suitor and wound her arms around Loup’s neck. The music started again, slower and more sensual. She wriggled her hips. “Think you can lead as well as you follow, Supergirl?”
“I can try.”
They danced together.
“Ohh-kay.” Christophe intervened. “Time for the hotel, I think.”
The hotel was quiet, the lobby empty. Pilar glanced around and sighed. “I’m gonna miss this place. Christophe, are there dance clubs like that in Hucatulco?”
“Huatulco. Yes, a couple.” He held the elevator door for them. “It’s a small place, nothing like a city. Lovely beaches. Tourists, but not so many, not like other places.”
“Lots of fish,” Loup said, remembering.
“Yes.”
Pilar yawned. “And I could probably get a job there, right? If this secret agent bodyguard assistant thing doesn’t work out?”
“Bartending? Oh, yes.”
“Pilar’s a good bartender,” Loup offered.
Christophe eyed her. “I am not sure that matters.”
“I am, though.” She stifled another yawn. “But I guess we’ll just have to wait and see if those Global guys want you bad enough to take me, too, huh?”
“Yep,” Loup said. “We’ll see.”
FIVE
Two days!” Pilar’s eyes widened. “That’s a long drive.”
“It’s a big country,” Christophe said affably, sitting at the breakfast table with a heaped plate in front of him. “You’re lucky I know it so well.”
“How do you?” Loup asked, curious.
“I’m the wanderer in the family.” He shoveled eggs into his mouth. “I had a little money from my father, from the fishing business I told you about. When I was sixteen, I went to explore.”
“Cool.”
He swallowed and grinned. “Yes. I only stopped to help come rescue you when the government contacted me and said they would pay good money. Our lost little cousin.” He twined his fingers and flexed his hands. “I worked with some soldiers. We took shifts, one or two at a time. We had to be very careful, very quiet. I spent more time working in the tunnel than anyone.”
“Thanks,” Loup said.
“Of course.” He turned serious. “I’m glad you’re coming, prima. Everyone has been wanting to meet Martin’s daughter for so long.” His grin returned. “Now everyone will want to make the band play fast and dance with you!”
“So, no girlfriends, huh?” Pilar asked him.
“Me, no.” Christophe shook his head. “Out of the seven of us, only Alejandro has found someone. Paco and the twins are too young. For the rest…” He shrugged. “You know it’s difficult for us?”
Her voice softened. “Yeah, I know.”
“Not so difficult,” he said. “Maybe one in a hundred, two hundred pretty girls I meet feels…” He nodded at Loup. “The way you do about her. Very sexy. But I have not stayed with anyone long enough to fall in love. It happens fast with us, you know?”
“Ooh, a playboy.”
“I am a young man, okay?”
“It’s actually really nice,” Loup offered. “Being in love, I mean.”
Pilar smiled at her. “Thanks, baby.”
She smiled back. “Well, it is.”
Christophe shrugged, unabashed. “Yes, well, so is being a playboy, if you like. So I am the lone wolf. I like it for now.”
“Christophe?” Loup cocked her head. “Are we actually part wolf or what?”
“I don’t know.” He slathered a piece of toast with butter. “The government did tests on the original kin. DNA analysis. If you want to know, you can find out.” He took a big bite of toast, chewed and swallowed. “I never wanted to know.”
“Why?” Pilar asked.
“Me, I don’t care.” He pointed at her. “But you? Okay, maybe you think Loup is a little bit wolf, a little bit leopard. That, you like. What if it’s not? What if it’s a little bit chimpanzee?” He shrugged a third time. “Better not to know.”
“Chimpanzee.”
“It is possible.”
Pilar studied Loup. “Nah. Too cute.”
“So think what you—”