Santa Olivia (Santa Olivia #1)

Santa Olivia (Santa Olivia #1) Page 20

Kotch glared at her. “You would have!”

“Probably,” Pilar admitted.

“Pax Olivia,” Mack interjected absently. He ran his hand over his hair. “Okay, so it’s us, then.” He looked around at the Santitos. “Everyone in?”

“We can’t get caught, Mack,” Jaime said. “That’s a line we can’t cross. We’ll get disappeared if we do. And if we fuck him up too badly, they’ll turn this town upside down. Someone will pay for it, even if it’s not us.”

“Humiliate him,” Jane suggested.

“Yeah.” Mack nodded. “That’s good.”

“You guys are crazy,” Pilar said. “C’mon! He’s a grown-ass soldier with all his buddies around him.”

“Yeah, but we’ve got a secret weapon. One that’ll leave him with a story no one will believe. One he might not even have the balls to tell.” Mack looked at Loup. “You in, kiddo? It’s a risk.”

Loup grinned. “Hell, yeah.”

T.Y. elbowed her. “Told you you were a superhero!”

“We’ll still have to get him alone,” Jaime said pragmatically. “If there are witnesses, Loup’s toast.”

“True,” Mack acknowledged. “We’ll need bait.” He glanced at Pilar. “Bait he can’t resist.”

“Jailbait,” C.C. added.

“Aw, fuck!” Pilar said in disgust.

“He doesn’t have to know you’re in on it,” Mack said mildly. “All you’d have to do is get him alone in a dark alley and run like hell when Loup shows up. Whaddya say? Does he know your face?”

“No.” Pilar chewed on her thumbnail. “Oh, fine! Fuck. I’ll do it.”

“Thanks,” Katya said softly.

EIGHTEEN

Yeah, sure! It’s a real private place, soldier!”

Pilar’s voice, breathless and giggling. She led Ken Braddock by the hand into the deep shadows beneath the bleachers in the square. All the arc lights were off. The perimeter was lit by light spilling from the nightclub, but the square itself was dark.

“You gonna give me some sugar now?” The soldier’s voice was deep and confident.

“You bet, baby.” Pilar wriggled against him.

“Sweet.” He kneaded her buttocks.

“Hey.” Loup stepped out of the shadows, her voice somewhat muffled by the bandana tied over the lower half of her face. She cocked her head at Pilar. “Get lost. We’ve got business.”

Pilar shrank back against a support and let out a squeak.

“What the hell?” Private Braddock sounded profoundly amused. He rested his fists on his belt and looked down at Loup. “Whaddya want, kid? I’m busy.”

“Go, child,” Loup intoned. She sketched an arcane gesture Jaime had devised in Pilar’s direction, spoke the words he’d given her. “This man intends no good. The spirit of Santa Olivia bids you flee. Flee!”

Pilar fled.

“Aw, shit.” Braddock gazed after her, then back at Loup. “What the fuck? What is this, Halloween?”

Loup beckoned. “I come bearing a message from Santa Olivia. Will you hear it?”

“Hell, no!” Braddock turned to go. Loup punched him in the kidneys, eliciting a grunt. He turned, stooping with pain. “Motherfucker!”

She landed a left cross to his jaw, a few inches off center. Careful, not hard enough to break his jaw. His eyes rolled up in his head and he sagged in a satisfying manner. Loup caught him as he fell, whistling softly.

Shadowy figures converged.

“Nice work.” Mack’s gray eyes glinted.

“Thanks,” Loup whispered back.

The Santitos worked quickly. They stripped Private Braddock’s pants to his ankles. They bound his arms and legs with twine. They smudged his brow with a dusty cross and pinned a note to his chest.

RAPIST.

SANTA OLIVIA DOES NOT FORGET.

“Good?” Mack asked Katya.

She stared at the soldier, then kicked him in the ribs. “Yeah. Good.”

They scattered, racing through the town and dodging patrols, exhilarated by their success. Pilar was waiting inside the gate. Father Ramon had confiscated the spare key, but handy Mack had figured out how to pick the lock.

“Hallelujah, Santa-fucking-Olivia!” T.Y. whispered as they crept back into the darkened church.

The next day brought rumors and the return of Colonel Stillwell, who held a lengthy private conference with Father Ramon and Sister Martha. Loup tried to eavesdrop, but Anna chased her away.

“I don’t think you want to be anywhere near the colonel today, Loup,” she said in a meaningful tone. “Any of you.”

Loup sighed. “Okay.”

The colonel left after an hour. Father Ramon and Sister Martha emerged without addressing the incident. Once again, the Santitos were forced to wait and wonder until dinner. Once again, when the bell rang, they trooped in to find the table empty and their patrons waiting in silence. The silence stretched, unbroken.

“Are we in trouble, sir?” Mack asked.

Father Ramon folded his arms. “Any reason you should be?”

“No.”

More silence.

“It seems the young man who committed a sin of violence against Katya had a strange encounter last night,” Father Ramon said at length. “A visitation, as it were. It seems Santa Olivia and her basket of plenitude has turned into an ass-kicking masked avenger.” His gaze went around the table, settling on Loup. “I don’t suppose any of you know anything about it?”

“No,” they chorused.

He heaved a sigh. “God have mercy on me, I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.”

“Both,” Sister Martha said wryly. “Fortunately, the story is so very unlikely that we were able to convince the colonel that the young man is obviously covering for comrades who played a prank on him, and one that he well deserved. Since he is in fact guilty as hell and his friends know it, it seems the likeliest truth.”

Katya gave a tight smile.

“Which is not the same as being the truth,” Father Ramon added. His gaze bored into Loup’s. “I sincerely hope Santa Olivia doesn’t plan on taking up a career of administering vigilante justice.”

“What’s a vigilante?” Loup asked.

The Father pointed at her. “You, I suspect. Are we clear?”

The Santitos exchanged glances.

“Clear, sir,” Mack muttered.

“Good.” Father Ramon pulled out his chair and sat. Diego and C.C. went to the kitchen to bring out dinner. When it was served, the Father folded his hands. “Let us give thanks,” he said. “Thanks for the food we are about to eat, and thanks that none of you got caught. Because messing with the U.S. Army is a whole different can of worms than brawling with the Salamanders, children.”

“A-fucking-men,” Sister Martha added with heartfelt fervor.

Still, the rumors persisted and spread.

It was a pair of MPs that had found PFC Ken Braddock under the bleachers in the early-dawn hours, trussed and furious and raving. But the garbage collectors of Outpost were already out and about, hauling their carts, and they heard and witnessed the encounter.

“Was it you?” Tommy asked his sister in a low voice. “Tell me the truth, Loup. You wouldn’t do anything that stupid, would you?”

She looked at him and lied. “Nah. The guy made it up.”

“Thanks.” Tommy hugged her, smelling of clean sweat. “You doing okay, sweetheart?”

Loup shrugged. “I guess.”

“What’s wrong?”

She eyed him sidelong. “I feel weird. I mean, other people say it. For kissing and stuff. I feel weird to them.” She shrugged. “No big deal. It kind of sucks, that’s all.”

Tommy turned several shades of red. “Who says?”

“T.Y.,” Loup said. “C.C. Crazy Jane.”

“Jane?” he repeated.

Loup shrugged again. “She taught T.Y. how to kiss, so I asked her to show me. I thought maybe he was doing it wrong, but I guess it’s me.”

“Shit.” Tommy walked away. Loup sat on the edge of the inner sparring ring, legs dangling. When Tommy came back, his face was still red. “Okay,” he muttered. “Mommy… before she died, she told me a couple of things that I might need to tell you someday. But I felt weird about it, you know?”

“Okay,” Loup agreed. “So?”

He cleared his throat. “Well, one was kind of about sex.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Tommy’s flush deepened. “I guess for your father it was kind of like you’re saying with everyone but Mom. She was different. Most girls kind of freaked out. Our mom was the first girl who didn’t. So maybe there aren’t a whole lot of people in the world for you. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah,” Loup said softly. “Do you think I feel weird?”

He shot her a horrified look. “I’m not kissing you!”

She laughed. “No, just… you know. Like when you hug me?”

Tommy thought about it. “I guess. I don’t know, Loup. You’re just you, you know?”

“What if I wasn’t your sister?”

He looked away. “God, I don’t know! There are some things you can’t ask guys to think about, okay?”

“Okay,” Loup said mildly.

“So there’s no one?” Tommy looked back at her. “No one who doesn’t feel that way?”

“Pilar, maybe.” She shrugged. “But she has a crush on you.”

Tommy smiled a little. “Yeah, well, she’s too young. Even if she is a walking sex bomb.” His smile faded, his expression turning uncomfortable. “Do you, um, like girls? Is that part of it?”

“I like Pilar,” Loup said honestly. “Does it matter?”