She shook her head. “It’s not. Trust me, I can tell the difference. If it were my call, I think we should evacuate.”

Henry looked around the crowded hall. “I’ll check it out. We vetted this place pretty thoroughly.”

Five minutes later, the fire broke out.

It started as a charred spot on the eastern wall, spreading rapidly and bursting into open flame that quickly began to devour antique wallpaper and hanging draperies. At the first scream of “Fire!” a stampede ensued, turning swiftly to a deadly, crushing pandemonium as guests unwittingly blocked the doors.

“Shit!” Loup plowed her way against the tide of people. She passed the fleeing Diarmuid McDermott and grabbed a terrified Rose, dragging her in the opposite direction. The girl kicked and screamed. “You can’t go that way! People are getting trampled!”

“I don’t want to die in the fire!”

“You won’t!” She jerked her chin at Pilar, half-frozen behind her bar station, trying to summon her while hauling Rose to the farthest western corner and yanking open a window. “Stick your head out the window, okay? Breathe the fresh air.”

“Loup!” Henry’s voice came over her earpiece, tight and strained, barely audible over the screaming. “Do you have the target in a safe place?”

“Yeah!” she shouted back.

“Do not attempt to exit right now. Hold your position until my word. Do you copy?”

“Copy. Don’t worry. I can get her out safe.”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” a man’s voice said, calm and menacing.

Loup squinted through the thickening smoke to see a figure holding a gun emerge—an actor in a striped sailor’s shirt. She shifted instinctively to block Rose, who let out a terrified squeak and hid behind her.

“Move away from the girl.” The sailor gestured with his gun. “This isn’t your fight.”

“Fuck you.” She stared at the round black bore and felt the distant, empty feeling inside her where fear should be, coupled with rising anger. The sailor stopped at a wary distance, but well within shooting range. Loup calculated and realized that even with her speed, she couldn’t get to him before he got off a shot—at least not without exposing her client. She made a quick move for the holster concealed under her vest.

Fast as she was, she wasn’t faster than a speeding bullet.

The sailor fired over her head, then aimed at her chest. The gunshot set off more screaming in the background. Henry was shouting in her earpiece. The sailor raised his voice. “Step away from the girl!”

Loup sighed, the empty feeling growing. She really, really didn’t want to get shot and killed trying to protect a thirteen-year-old spoiled brat, but she couldn’t abandon her, either. She hoped Pilar would understand and forgive her one day. “I can’t.”

The sailor’s finger began to tighten on the trigger.

“Drop your fucking gun!” Pilar stepped out of the coiling smoke and took a shooter’s stance beside Loup. Her voice was shaking, but the gun was steady.

The sailor’s gun didn’t budge, either. “Drop yours or I shoot her.”

She hesitated.

“Rose,” Loup murmured, sidling closer. “Get behind Pilar. Pilar, get ready to shoot the fucker.”

“Baby, don’t—”

“Just do it!”

The instant Rose obeyed and took cover behind Pilar, Loup darted off at an angle with inhuman speed. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the gun in the sailor’s hand move instinctively to track her, and launched into a diving roll.

There were two gunshots. Neither one hit her. She came up in a spinning crouch, unharmed, pistol drawn.

The sailor blinked at her, wavering on his feet. There was a bloodstain spreading on his upper right arm and he couldn’t get his hand to raise the gun.

“I’m sorry!” Pilar said behind her, tears in her voice. “I choked. I couldn’t shoot to kill.”

“You did great.” Loup rose and holstered her pistol. “Perfect, even. If he lives through this, they’re gonna want to question him.” She plucked the gun from his nerveless hand, ejected the cartridge, and checked the chamber, then tossed both out the window.

“You—” he began.

“Shut up.” For the first time in her life, she hit an ordinary human being with all her strength, throwing a right hook that shattered bones in his jaw and took him down like a sack of potatoes. “Okay.” The smoke was getting thick enough to sear her throat. “He’s going out the window, and so are we.”

“It’s too high!” Rose wailed.

Loup hoisted the limp sailor and dangled him out the window. “For him, maybe.” She let the body fall with a sickening thud. “But better broken bones than burning to death. Now you, you’re going to be safe as can be, because I’m going to catch you. I’m going to catch both of you.”

Pilar looked at the two-story drop, then at her, worried. “Loup, it’s awfully far.”

“I can do it. Can you lower Rose like I did the killer sailor?”

“Yeah, I think so.” She nodded, eyes bright with tears. “Muy macha, sí?”

“Sí.” Loup kissed her cheek, then climbed over the windowsill, mindful of the limp figure below. She hung from her hands, then let herself drop.

It was a long drop.

The manicured lawn rushed up to meet her. She landed in a perfect four-point stance, absorbing and dispersing the impact. Even so, it jarred her entire body. It took her a few seconds to collect herself; then she rose on numb feet, shaking out her numb hands. She dragged the unconscious sailor’s body out of the way.

“Okay!” she shouted.

Rose panicked when Pilar lowered her by her wrists, flailing in the air.

“I’m losing my grip!” Pilar struggled, leaning too far out the window. “Fuck! She’s gonna pull me over!”

“Rose!” The word came out half shout, half growl. “Cut it out! Remember the apple? I will fucking catch you!”

The girl stopped flailing.

“Now!”

Pilar let her go.

Loup caught her deftly and set her feet gently on the ground.

“You… you hurt my sides.” Rose sniffled, more bewildered and terrified than hurt.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I tried to be as careful as I could.” Loup turned back to the window. “Ready?”

Pilar, white-faced, didn’t answer, only climbed out the window and let herself hang from the sill, arms trembling.

“Okay!” Loup called.

She let go.

Loup caught her around the waist, staggering a little under the greater impact, then setting her down. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Pilar turned breathlessly in her arms. “Thanks, baby.” She pulled herself together and knelt in front of Rose. “How about you, honey? Are you all right?”

“Bruised ribs, maybe,” Loup said. “I did my best.”

“Does this hurt?” Pilar pressed lightly. “Here?”

“No.” The girl’s eyes were wide, pupils dilated. “It doesn’t… it doesn’t hurt, really. I was just frightened.” She burst into tears. “Where’s… where’s my papa? Is he in there?”

Loup glanced up at the window, seeing flames. She reached for the transmit button on her earpiece and realized she’d lost it along with her cap when she dove to avoid the killer’s bullet. “Pilar, is your radio working?”

“I’ll check.” She held the sobbing Rose with one arm, pressing her earpiece with her free hand. “Henry? Anyone? What’s the status? We’ve got Rose out here, she’s safe.”

They couldn’t hear anything but shouting and noise. Pilar’s gaze met Loup’s.

“I’ll go,” Loup said. “Let’s get to a safe distance.” She took the unconscious man under the arms and dragged him some twenty yards across the lawn. Pilar followed, carrying the thirteen-year-old Rose with some effort. The crying girl clung to her, disdainful young lady turned scared child. They could hear sirens as fire engines and medical vehicles began to arrive. “Okay, good. Get Rose over to the ambulances and have her checked out. You too. And tell them about this guy.” She nodded at the sailor. One of his legs was bent at an unnatural angle, and his gunshot arm was bleeding. “He’s not going anywhere.”

“Okay. Be careful, Loup!”

“I will.”

She raced around to the front of the château. A handful of guests had escaped unharmed and were milling on the front terrace in confusion. Loup cut through them and plunged back into the château.

The scene on the great marble staircase that led to the second story was a nightmare. The fire and the worst of the smoke were upstairs, but the second and third waves of people attempting to escape had overtaken the first, trampling them. The staircase was clogged with partygoers, those on top trying to clamber desperately over those on the bottom. The sound of the cries from those trapped below was pitiful.

“Fuck!” Loup grabbed the nearest body and hoisted, putting him down and whipping around to prevent someone else from taking his place. “Calm the fuck down, people!” she shouted, helping a battered woman to her feet.

They didn’t.

Swearing and hoisting, she worked to clear the stairs. Within minutes, firefighters arrived and began to assist. One caught Loup’s arm and said something in German, pointing toward the door.

Another shook his head and said something else in an awestruck tone.

She kept working.

“Lupe!” Hugh Danielson, freed by a firefighter, staggered over to her. He was limping and had a welt rising on one cheek. He looked at her with the expression of a man not daring to hope. “Rose?”

“She’s fine, sir.” Loup glanced at the staircase. The firefighters were beginning to restore order and clear a path. “Come with me.”