“Huh?”

“On the run,” Loup said patiently. “Rogers is right; you need to run faster. You’re holding back because you’re still scared of the obstacle course.”

Pilar scowled. “No offense, baby, but what do you know about being scared?”

“A lot in some ways, because I have to work harder to figure it out. Not just for me, for other people, too. You’re scared. But you don’t have to be.” She slid one hand up Pilar’s arm, squeezed her bicep gently. “You’re muy macha now, sí? You’re not gonna fall off the monkey bars, and you can make it over the wall, even if you’re tired.”

A faint ray of hope dawned on Pilar’s face. “You really think it would work?”

She nodded. “I can keep time in my head really good. All those years of running on that stupid fucking treadmill in the stupid fucking garage. I won’t go fast, only exactly as fast as you need to go to finish under an hour. All you’ve gotta do is keep up with me.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.” Loup smiled. “We can do this.”

Pilar smiled back at her. “Okay.” She took a deep breath. “I’m picturing the look on that bitch Sabine’s face when she hears I passed.”

“Hold that thought,” Loup advised her.

The following day, Clive was there to observe the trial. Loup told him her idea.

“Yeah, go ahead,” he said. “But when you hit the obstacle course, I want you out in front, girlie. I don’t want any reason to remotely suspect you’ve done something like give her a boost over the wall.”

“I wouldn’t!” she protested.

“You might if we’d thought of it,” Pilar said pragmatically.

“Ready?” Rogers held up the stopwatch. They nodded. “Go!”

They took off running down the wooded trail. Loup let Pilar settle into her pace, then increased it marginally, marking time in her head and holding on to hope. They ran and ran, sneakered feet thudding softly on the dirt trail. “Keep up,” Loup warned when Pilar lagged slightly. “I’m cutting it real close like I promised.”

Pilar nodded, not sparing breath to speak.

They ran.

“Okay,” Loup said, seeing the end of the trail approaching. “When we reach the lawn, I’m gonna pull ahead. You’re good. Just hit the course as hard as you can, just like in training.”

Another breathless nod.

On open ground, Loup went ahead of Pilar. She gauged her pace carefully—enough for Clive to see distance between them, not so much that it intimidated Pilar. She swung along the monkey bars, raced lightly along the balance beam, vaulted and ducked through the over-and-unders. Wriggled agilely under the belly crawl netting and danced through the trip wires. Scrambled up and down the rope netting and completed the ladder drop with fearless aplomb. Hurdled the pit, scaled the assault wall, and crossed the finish line. Rogers glanced at his stopwatch and gave her a brief nod.

All of them watched Pilar.

“C’mon,” Rogers muttered over his breath, looking from her to the watch. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon!”

She cleared the wall and ran the last few yards. He clicked the watch. She doubled over, gasping, hands braced on her knees. “Well?”

He was beaming. “Fifty-nine minutes, forty-six seconds.”

She straightened. “Are you serious?”

“Too fucking right!”

“Ohmigod!” Pilar flung her arms around him.

“You did it, sunshine!” Clive shouted, grinning. She hugged him, too, kissing his cheek. “Way to go!”

“You.” Pilar turned to Loup, grabbed her face, and kissed her. “Thanks, baby.”

“Yeah.” Loup grinned. “You were awesome.”

Clive had his phone out. “Yessir, it’s me, Mr. Lindberg. Yessir, just this minute. Uh-huh. With fourteen seconds to spare. Yessir, I’m passing her on the strength of her marksmanship. We’re both passing her.” He listened, smiling. “I will, sir. Bye now.” He ended the call. “Mr. Lindberg sends his congratulations to both of you.”

Dinner that night was a celebration. Clive, Rogers, and Adelaide all joined them for dinner and the table was adorned with a lush bouquet of peach-hued roses and an oversized ice bucket with an extra-large bottle of champagne in it. There was a note of congratulations tied around the neck of the bottle.

“A magnum from Magnus,” Clive declared. “Right magnanimous! Shall I do the honors?”

“Sure,” Loup agreed.

He popped the cork and poured out five glasses. Pale gold champagne fizzed softly in the tall flutes. “Savor it,” he advised them. “Mr. Lindberg only sends the best.”

“Did he sound surprised?” Pilar asked.

“Yeah.” Clive smiled. “And rather tickled in the bargain.”

“I think he kinda likes you, Pilar.” Loup sipped her champagne. It was crisp and creamy all at once, tiny bubbles making her tongue tingle. “Wow. This is nothing like the stuff we had at Diego and Maria’s wedding. You remember?” Pilar made a noncommittal sound. “You do. That’s when I asked you why you weren’t talking to me.”

“Do you make a habit of it, dear?” Adelaide inquired.

“No!” Pilar said in exasperation. “I just… you had to be there, okay?” She blew out her breath. “You really think Magnus likes me?” she asked Loup.

“Uh-huh.” She took another sip. “He loosens up around you.”

“Mr. Lindberg expressed the opinion that he found you quite unintentionally charming,” Clive confirmed, holding up his glass and studying the rising bubbles. “And he very much wishes to retain Loup’s services. He’s looking forward to exploring ways of employing you creatively as a team.” He lowered his glass and tapped his temple with one finger. “Mind, you’ve got ten more weeks of training in which we’ll be cramming your wee noggins with all sorts of knowledge. You’re not out of the woods yet, girlies.”

“Oh, give ’em a break, Clive!” Rogers said in a surprisingly good-natured tone. “They’ve earned the right to celebrate.”

Pilar glanced at Loup. “Speaking of celebrating…”

“Oh, we will.”

Later that night, with the luxury of a morning of free time to follow, they celebrated for a long, long time—until Pilar, breathless and writhing, her fingers tangled in Loup’s hair, begged her to stop. “Fuck! I’m serious, baby! Stop, you’ve gotta stop. I can’t take any more; you’re gonna give me a heart attack.”

Loup slithered up the length of her body. “Good thing you’re in such awesome shape, huh?”

“No shit.” Pilar closed her eyes, smiling. “And no fair. Give me a minute to catch my breath.”

“Not tonight.” She trailed her fingertips along the soft, taut skin of Pilar’s inner thigh, higher and higher. “You’re the one who worked your ass off. This is your celebration.”

Pilar’s eyes flew open. “You’re not gonna—” Her back arched, one hand scrabbling at the bedclothes. “Oh, shit!”

By the time Loup was finished with her, she was beyond arguing.

“Jesus,” she murmured, running her fingers idly through Loup’s hair. “I don’t know whether I love or hate the fact that you can do that to me without even trying.”

“Oh, I was trying,” Loup assured her.

“You know what I mean.”

“Well, then I’m gonna go with love it.”

Pilar laughed, then stretched, slow and languorous, shivering with lingering pleasure. “Yeah, me too.”

“All those years,” Loup said softly. “All those years, I never knew what it could be like to be with someone like this. I tried, but it never felt right, you know? Not for me, not for anyone else, no matter how much I wanted it to. Not even Mack, and he tried harder than anyone. It just made me feel lonely. And all those years, I kept thinking about you.” She drew a line from the hollow of Pilar’s throat to her navel. “It’s still… awesome. Not just in that epic sex way, though yeah, that, too. But like the way Father Ramon used the word when he talked about God.”

“I’m not sure Father Ramon believed in God, baby,” Pilar said gently. “He wasn’t really a priest, remember? He just put on the robes.”

“No, I know. But he gave people what they needed. Awe. Hope.”

“Yeah.” She rolled onto her side, regarding Loup. “So did you, Santa Olivia. That town went fucking wild after your fight. I can’t even imagine what it was like after you disappeared.”

“We disappeared,” Loup reminded her.

Pilar cupped her cheek. “Baby, you left behind an empty cell with a basket and a boxing robe in Santa Olivia’s colors, and one big fucking mystery. I left behind one pissed-off Rory Salamanca. It’s not the same thing.”

Loup made a face. “Rory, yeah.”

“Oh, hush.” Pilar kissed her. “You know perfectly well why I left you, and perfectly well that I’ll never do it again.” She studied Loup’s face. “We’re going back someday, aren’t we? After we make enough money doing this secret agent bodyguard shit. You’re gonna do something stupid and heroic.”

“Probably,” Loup admitted. “I can’t stand thinking about everyone we left behind.”

“I figured.” Pilar rolled onto her back, folding her arms beneath her head. “Do you actually have a plan?”

Loup shook her head. “Jaime and Jane were the ones who were good at making plans. I haven’t figured it out yet.”

“I’ll try to make sure it’s not too stupid.” She blew out her breath. “Whatever it is, I’m just glad we’re in it together.”