“Yeah.” Loup, her head in Pilar’s lap, yawned until her jaw cracked. “Sorry. I’m still tired. Guess it’s not that crazy when you think about it. Faulty old wiring. They had every fucking light in that place blazing.”

Pilar massaged Loup’s temples with her fingertips, making little circles. “How many people do you think you saved, baby?”

“Hmm?”

“How many? On the stairway?”

“Oh, I dunno. The firemen got there pretty quick.”

“I bet a dozen.” Pilar leaned over to kiss her upside down. “That guy, the killer sailor… Loup, it scared the shit out of me. I’m not sure I could have done what I did if it hadn’t been you he was aiming at.”

“You did it, though. Sabine’s right. You got the job done. That’s all that matters.”

“The way you stared him down…” Pilar shivered. “He had a gun on you, he fucking fired it over your head, and you just looked pissed. Loup, what’s it like? Not being scared at a time like that?”

“It’s like nothing,” Loup said honestly. “It’s an empty feeling. Like there’s some part of me that knows something’s missing. It’s not bad, exactly. It’s just… nothing.”

“It scares me.”

“I know.” Loup caught her hand and kissed it. “But I can’t help what I am, Pilar.”

“I love what you are.” Pilar smoothed her unruly hair. “I’m just being honest. I guess near-death experiences do that to me.”

“Kind of like big cathedrals make you all philosophical?” Loup asked fondly. “Hey, we should think about where we want to go next. Do you want to go back to Paris?”

“You know where I’d go if I could go anywhere?”

“Where?”

“Home,” Pilar said wistfully. “Even if it was just for a day.”

Loup craned her neck to look up at her. “Are you sorry you left?”

“No!” She tweaked a lock of her hair. “God, no. Don’t ever think that, baby. The best thing I ever did in my life is walk away from my life to climb into that stupid fucking tunnel. It’s been, what? Six months? And I’ve seen and done things I never could have imagined. And you…” Pilar shook her head. “You. I’d give everything up all over again to be with you. It’s just…” She sighed. “I miss them.”

“So do I,” Loup said softly.

Pilar smiled. “Can you imagine the look on T.Y.’s face if he heard what I did the other day? He never thought I was good enough for you.”

“That’s not true.”

“Oh, it’s so true.” She tweaked her hair again. “I know what the Santitos thought. It’s okay, I gave them reasons to. I thought it, too. But I did kind of save your life, didn’t I?”

“No.” Loup levered herself upright with a lithe twist, turning on the bed to face Pilar, her face grave. “You totally saved my life. And the kid’s, too.”

“You didn’t give me a whole lot of choice, baby.”

“I knew you could do it.”

“You and your fucking trust and expectations.” Pilar twined her arms around Loup’s neck. “It’s enough to make me feel sorry for Miguel Garza. I’m not a hero, okay? I’m just here because I love you.”

Loup smiled.

“Oh, shut up.” Pilar kissed her, grateful to have her alive and whole. She laughed when Loup kissed her back ardently. “I thought you were tired.”

“Suddenly less so.” She cocked her head. “We could try it, you know. Santa Olivia. The tunnel’s still there.”

“No,” Pilar said after a brief pause. “Jesus! I can’t believe I even considered it. No,” she said again, more firmly. “We’ve got an obligation to Global, and it’s stupid to take that kind of risk now. I bet the army filled in that tunnel again, too. And even if they didn’t, they’re still looking for you. If we got caught, they’d make sure you never got away again. Let’s see how this business with Miguel and the hearings plays out. I lost you once and I really, really don’t want to lose you again.”

“It was just a thought.”

“Well, quit thinking it.”

“Okay, okay!” She looked thoughtfully at Pilar. “What about visiting Huatulco?”

“You think it’s safe for us to go to Mexico?”

Loup shrugged. “Not for us, but for Guadalupe Herrera and Pilar Mendez, maybe. We can ask Christophe, he’ll know. I know it’s not home, but there are people who care about us there. And I think that’s a big part of what we’re missing, huh? I mean, we’ll be okay as long as we’ve got each other, but it’s nice to feel part of something bigger, too.”

“Yeah.” Pilar thought about it and gave her a dazzling smile. “I’d like that.”

“Good.”

Her arms tightened around Loup’s neck. “So not too tired, huh?”

“Not anymore.”

TWENTY-SIX

Yes, yes,” Christophe assured them on the phone. “There were inquiries, but it is over now, and the Americans did not find out about our family in Huatulco. It is safe for you to visit.” He paused. “But maybe not to run so fast on the beach and make the tourists gossip anymore. Gossip travels, you know?”

Tía Marcela’s warm embrace made the entire trip worthwhile. “My lovely girls!” she exclaimed. “I’m so very glad you came.”

“Gracias, Tía.” Loup smiled.

“Look at you.” She held first Loup, then Pilar at arm’s length. “You’ve been working as bodyguards? Truly?”

“Loup, mostly,” Pilar said. “Me, only sort of. But we caught a bad guy and everything.”

“Well.” Marcela gave them both another hug and kiss. “I can see there will be stories. Come, I have your same room waiting for you.”

“Okay.” Loup pulled out her credit card. “But we can pay this time.”

“No.” She raised a stern finger. “You are here visiting as family. I will not hear of it.”

“But—”

“Absolutely not.”

“All right. Thank you.”

Everything was as they had left it—the charming room overlooking the little marina, the palm trees, the bobbing fishing boats. They wandered into town and through the marketplace and saw the same shops, the same bars and restaurants. Even the weather seemed unchanged—warm and sunny, the aquamarine sea lapping the white-sand beach. They had lunch beneath the thatched palapa, eating spiced grilled fish and drinking cold beer.

It wasn’t the same, though.

“It all seems different, doesn’t it?” Pilar asked. “I wish it was the way it was before. I hate that you have to pretend again.”

“Yeah, me too.”

She rested her chin on her hand and gazed out at the sunbathers. “It changes everything, doesn’t it? Because nothing else has changed.”

“We have.” Loup switched their plates and began finishing Pilar’s fish. “Think about it. Other than a couple days in Mexico City, this was pretty much the only place we’d ever been other than Outpost in our entire lives.”

“Snipes fresh out of the gutter,” Pilar mused.

Loup laughed. “Pretty much, yeah.”

“Do I seem all that different?”

“In some ways.” Loup studied her. “You know a lot more, that’s for sure. We both do. You’re more… I don’t know. Sophisticated?”

“You think?”

“Yeah.” Loup nodded. “More confident and worldly. Do I seem different?”

“Nah.” Pilar gave her a fond smile. “Not really, no. But you didn’t exactly need confidence. You were always my fearless little hero with the very big appetite, and I don’t think anything in the world could change that. There’s nothing about you I’d change.” She reached across the table and caressed Loup’s cheek. “I had a lot farther to go, baby.”

“No, you didn’t.”

Pilar shook her head. “You and your ridiculously unconditional love. Oh, don’t give me that big, shiny-eyed look.” She touched the necklace nestled in the hollow of Loup’s throat. “It makes me get all choked up.”

“Is that so bad?” Loup asked honestly.

“No.” She thought about it. “No, I guess it’s not.”

There was an impromptu party that night on the hotel terrace. Most of the aunts and cousins were in attendance.

“Prima!” Raimundo said, exultant. He hugged Loup, then Pilar, lingering over the latter. “Bonita! I am so happy you are here!”

Nacio elbowed him out of the way. “Yes, so am I. Very happy.”

“Careful,” Loup said cheerfully. “Pilar shot a man.”

They exchanged glances. “Es verdad?” Raimundo asked, disbelieving. “You did this thing? You?”

“Verdad, sí,” Pilar agreed. “I shot a man.”

“Prima.” Young Alejandro touched Loup’s arm. “Did you know that you are a little bit famous?” A flush of pride darkened his cheeks. “Amaya has learned it.”

Loup blinked. “Huh?”

He nodded adoringly to his shy girlfriend. “Show them.”

She opened up a thin netbook computer. Her fingers danced over the keyboard, clicking links. “Mira.”

They looked.

Pilar laughed. “That’s the concert in Aberdeen, baby. The spitter.”

“Oh, right.” Loup watched badly lit footage of the band Kate in concert and saw herself stride onstage, the teenage fan slung over her shoulder. She saw herself approach the edge of the stage, shading her eyes against the spotlights’ glare, then dangle and lower the spitting girl. “Yuck. I remember.”