Genesis (The Evolutioneers Book 1), page 26
Dittmar slipped his hand around her waist and escorted her up the walkway. A mantra began in her head in time with the click of her heels on the cobblestones.
You are Mata Hari. You are James Bond. You will succeed. Madden is about. To go. Down.
Just as Dittmar reached for the doorbell a sound like a lion’s roar, followed by a cutoff scream, broke the silence of the night.
He looked around. “What was that?”
Well, Ripley wasn’t wasting time. “What was what?” She batted her lashes.
“Didn’t you hear that? It sounded like a wild animal.”
She tittered and playfully slapped at his chest. “Seriously, I can’t hear anything over the pounding of my heart. I’m so nervous.”
“Don’t be. They’ll love you.”
The door opened, revealing a brick wall of a man wearing a suit and a headset. He nodded at Dittmar before accepting their coats and passing them along to the girl in a French maid’s costume standing by his side.
So, the guard was familiar enough with Dittmar that he allowed them in without asking for their names. Apparently, Dittmar was a bigger player then they thought. Interesting.
The inside of the mansion was just as opulent as the outside with marble flooring covering the entire lower level. The black and silver veined rock sucked up all natural light and heat, making it feel as welcoming as the inside of an icebox. Mahogany Chippendale furniture matched the dual curved staircases that dominated the foyer and led up to the second floor.
As Dittmar guided her through the oversized rooms, she noted that while beautiful, the house was as impersonal as a furniture store. Not one photo was displayed. Nothing gave a hint of any character trait of the owner other than wealthy. She might as well have been walking through a design catalog of the rich and famous.
Even Madden’s guests reminded her of department store mannequins as they lounged artfully against the leather furniture with their Botoxed faces and artificial tans.
The ballroom ceiling soared so high, she had to crane her neck to look up at the fresco design. Couches and tables formed conversational areas, and the muted lighting resembled nightclubs like the ones in Las Vegas.
Dittmar pressed a kiss to her shoulder and caressed her backside. “I’ll get us some drinks. What would you like?”
Fifth of whiskey. “Syrah, if they have it.”
He smiled and trailed his finger along her arm before disappearing into the crowd.
Crystal scanned the gatherers, sorting out those who appeared to be bodyguards from guests. She smirked as she noticed that while the men were dressed in styles ranging from jeans and cowboy boots to three-piece suits, the women were attired in barely there skirts with plunging necklines. They were nothing but eye candy as they stood around, fidgeting with their wine glasses and looking bored to tears while their men ignored them but for the occasional pat on the ass.
No, it did not escape her notice that she too was dressed more for sin than conversation, and it became clear that Dittmar had only brought her to be an accessory for the night and not the potential investor he told her she would be.
“What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?”
Enveloped in the lame opening spoken in a sexy rasp was a hint of sarcastic humor.
She glanced over her shoulder to make a smartass comeback of her own and froze, her jaw dropping in shock.
Oh. My. God.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
There were two of them. They were gorgeous.
And they glowed.
Identical in appearance, the men had the dark, swarthy, good looks of Mediterranean playboys. Their black sport coats were tailored perfectly to fit their lean bodies, and the bright white of their shirts deepened the tan of their skin. One wore a tie, his espresso brown hair swept neatly off his face, highlighting the strength in the square cut of his jaw. His twin wore his shirt open at the collar, his hair mussed as if someone else repeatedly ran their fingers through the thick waves. One by himself was heart-stoppingly handsome. The two together were devastating.
And they glowed.
Her brain finally registered that she had yet to respond. She snapped her teeth together and hoped she didn’t look like a teenage girl getting her first look at a naked man.
Remembering her undercover hayseed persona, she hoped to God that they weren’t like Ripley and could smell her powers, or something similar. She bit her bottom lip and flashed a sheepish grin. “Is it that obvious that I don’t belong?”
The tousled one on the right nodded and flashed her a bone-melting smile. “If you mean by not belonging because you appear to have a brain to go with the beauty, then yes.”
Was that a pickup line, or was he alluding to knowing her secret?
“Please ignore my brother,” the more straightlaced one said. “He believes he’s God’s gift to women. I remind him repeatedly that he’s not. I’d love for you to back me up on this.”
“I do my best to reserve judgment until I get to know a person better.” She smiled. What could their powers be?
The brothers exchanged a curious glance before Mr. Straightlaced held out his hand. “I’m Ethan Daniels. This cad is Ronan.”
Daniels. Daniels Software. She recognized the name from Max, who had done quite a bit of work for their father in the past. Were they involved with Madden too?
“Crystal Winters.” She clasped Ethan’s offered hand.
Once their palms touched, both gasped in shock and tightened their grip.
Holy shit, they were telepathic. A power both brothers shared, along with the ability to control other people’s emotions. The latter she experienced first-hand as her panic escalated, bringing heat to her cheeks even as her heartbeat kept a steady rhythm from the wave of calm Ethan projected at her.
She broke away with a jerk. Shit, shit, shit. If they could read her mind, then they knew what she was doing there, what her mission was. They could ruin everything.
“No,” Ronan started to speak out loud but instead lifted his glass to his lips. “Your secret is safe. Just like we know that you will keep ours.”
Oh, now she could hear his voice in her head. A sensation that was both weird and awesome.
Ethan continued to stare at her in awe. “There are others? We read the story in the paper. About the bank. But wasn’t sure if it was true.”
“Ah—” What could she say? How much could she trust them?
Dittmar appeared at her side and handed her a glass. “There you are, darling. I should have known you would attract the attention of the Daniels twins.”
Ronan laughed. “Well, I am infamous for my exquisite taste in women. And Crystal here is very special indeed.”
Dittmar curled her into against his chest and pressed his lips to her ear. “Did you know that they share their women?”
The sip of wine she drank stuck in her throat. Tears sprang in her eyes as her nose burned. “That’s not really a topic of conversation that immediately comes up after you say hello,” she wheezed.
Dittmar continued on a whisper, “Can you imagine, all of those hands on you? The tongues. Multiple cocks pumping inside of you.”
Part of her was horrified that he would speak so crudely to her in front of complete strangers, but as she risked a glance at the bronze gods, the unbidden thought of being the filling in that man sandwich didn’t seem as if it would be a hardship at all.
Oh crap, she flushed. They probably just heard that.
Ethan had the grace to look the other direction even as the corners of his mouth fought back his grin. Ronan smiled at her from behind his glass and tossed her a saucy wink.
If Max could read her mind right then, he would so kill her.
“Max? As in Madden Jr.?”
Get out of my head! She aimed her shout at both, since she wasn’t sure which had spoken.
“I can’t help it. I’m curious about you.”
Well, you’re going to be less curious when I shove my heel up your ass.
Ronan sputtered and coughed on his drink with laughter, drawing Dittmar’s curious stare.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” a woman’s voice announced over a microphone as the lights dimmed. “Your host, Matthew Maxwell Madden II.”
Enthusiastic applause broke out as a spotlight turned to the stage at the end of the ballroom. Crystal stood up on tiptoe, curious for her first in-the-flesh glimpse of the man who had fathered Max.
The man who walked across the stage appeared to be much younger than his fifty-plus years of age. Not a streak of gray touched the raven black hair that was swept away from his unlined face. He was a handsome devil indeed, and shared the same pale blue eyes as Max. But in the gaze he swept around the room, she saw avarice and calculation, as if he was judging every person on their value, both monetary and political.
He raised his hands and the applause died down. “Welcome, my friends. Well, isn’t this an impressive group of people I stand before. Did you know that the net value of every person in this room combined exceeds the gross national product of most of the countries in the world?” He held up a finger. “Including the good ole U.S. of A. Yes, how the mighty have fallen. That is the beauty of capitalism. Even when your government falls, the strong shall endure. Or do they? Any idiot with an idea believes they have the intelligence and wherewithal to make millions, and when they fail, we all pay the price.”
As Madden continued to speak, a screen lowered from the ceiling to hang behind him. “These are unusual times. The rules of old no longer work, and no one has stepped forward to establish a course for the future. Until now.”
“Are you running for President then, Madden?” a voice called out. Several people whistled in approval.
His predatory smile widened. “No, no. That would take four long years and require that I work with the less than intelligent on Capitol Hill to even begin to make progress. No, I have something more immediate in mind. Yes, immediate and direct. Behold, my vision.”
On the screen appeared a wide sweeping shot of rolling green hills that led to a valley of cornfields. Beyond the fields, a city sprawled in its cement and glass splendor. Men and women smiled as they walked into office buildings and factories, ready to work. Children in neatly pressed uniforms sat in schoolrooms with brand-new books on the desks. There was no litter in the streets, no graffiti on the buildings, every house freshly painted. It was a modern utopia.
“Several years ago, I began an experiment on an island off the coast of Asia. I opened businesses, built schools. Everyone who worked was paid an equal wage. But those who showed aptitude and dedication were granted bonuses in housing, education, and money. The people take pride and ownership in what they accomplish. I now own six thriving island nations in the Pacific. Crime does not exist there. There is no such thing as drug addiction. Any who dare disrupt the harmony of island life are dealt with swiftly and efficiently.”
A group of demonstrators appeared on the screen, all of them dressed in blue or green scrub-like outfits. Crystal didn’t recognize the language on their banners, but the fists raised in anger and resentment on their faces as they shouted told her that they were not happy with their totalitarian lifestyle. A dozen men in black body armor and carrying rifles swarmed them like scarab beetles. Those who struggled were beaten, cuffed, then tossed into the back of a truck where they were taken to God only knew where.
“Right now in Washington sits an impotent government. I know, I’m related to some of them,” Madden said, chuckling. “They’re either so afraid of insulting their constituents, or unwilling to see beyond their own backyard to work in harmony, that the government is at a standstill. That lack of action is hurting the very people who voted them into office in the first place. The time to act is now.” He smacked his fist into the palm of his hand. “I plan to take this country back and turn it into a land that I can be proud of. We can be proud of.”
He stood center stage again, his arms out in supplication. “I asked you here because you are the best at what you do. No one understands hard work and sacrifice more than you. Join me in an investment in all our futures. I know, I know.” He chuckled. “It is the God-given right of every American to live in squalor if they choose. Well, that’s not the America I choose to live in. And if that’s your opinion, then get the fuck out of my country. You, my friends, are standing at the threshold of a new era. Just think. Your products, your businesses can be a part of the infrastructure of the country of the future. Join me in building a new America, a stronger America. A country that stands tall and spits in the eye of all who oppose her. To life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness!”
The room got to its feet in thunderous applause as shouts of “Madden! Madden!” shook the walls. Above Crystal’s head the chandeliers swayed with the tremors.
“Oh my God, they drank the Kool-Aid,” Crystal murmured in shock.
Behind her she could hear Ronan ask Ethan, “Can you hear them?”
“Yep. This isn’t going to be good,” he replied in a grim tone.
The lights came up, and terror made Crystal’s skin pebble. All around the perimeter of the room stood men dressed in the black armor similar to the soldiers in the movie. Helmets with dark visors covered their heads and faces. Each one carried an assault rifle at their side and looked prepared to use it. They hadn’t made a sound when they entered, but she guessed that the twins heard their thoughts as they took their places.
“That’s our software in their helmets,” one of the twins murmured.
“Yep.”
“And he knows where we live.”
“Yep.”
“Shit.”
“Yep.”
Dittmar turned to her with a beaming smile. “Wasn’t that fantastic? You are going to be part of a new revolution.” He frowned at her when she continued to stare in fear at the soldiers. “Aren’t you excited?”
She swallowed and forced her lips into a semblance of a smile. “I guess I’m just a little confused about what’s going on. Is he talking about taking over the American government? Isn’t that considered treason, or something?”
“I would like to see them try to take him down. The man is invincible.”
That was what she was afraid of.
“Don’t panic,” she heard Ethan’s voice in her head as Ronan sent another comforting blanket of emotion around her. “Keep smiling and having a good time. Madden has instructed his men to note any person who might not be enthralled with his plan so he can…persuade them later.”
She took a sip of wine. We knew he was planning something. We just didn’t know how far along in his plan he was.
“Well, now you do. Might I suggest a change in tactics? I don’t think Dittmar is going to let you waltz out of here on your own. Find a way to ditch him, and we’ll help you get past these guards.”
That’s probably for the best. Give me a minute to relay information.
“Get going, then.”
She placed a hand on Dittmar’s forearm. “I’ll be back. I need to use the little girls’ room.”
“Don’t be long.”
She placed a brief kiss on his cheek before heading for the door. “Restroom?” she asked one of the soldiers. He gestured down a long hallway. “Thank you.”
Her legs urged her to run for the now-guarded front door, but she forced her stride to remain smooth and easy. Once in the bathroom, she braced her hands on the counter and took long, deep breaths. A wicker basket filled with rolled-up cotton hand towels sat in the corner. Wetting one with cold water, she ran the cool cloth over the heated skin of her neck. She had to remain calm.
“I hope you saw all of that,” she whispered toward the microphone in her earring. “The Daniels brothers are supers, telepathic. I think I can trust them. They told me that the soldiers in there were ordered to watch for anyone who might not comply with Madden and to deal with them later. I think it’s best for me to get out of here now, and we form a new plan. The brothers said they would help me escape. Look for me to be with them. And please, someone, find Ripley.”
She dried her hands and smoothed down the skirt of her dress. Pasting her most breezy smile on her face, she opened the door and jumped back with a startled yelp.
“James.” She placed a hand over her racing heart. “What are you doing?”
He reached for her wrist and pulled her into the hall. He wrapped his arms around her and swooped in for a kiss.
She wrenched her mouth away and panted, “If I’d known you were going to miss me so much, I would have stayed away longer.”
The lust and hunger in his eyes made her take a step back. He didn’t say a word as he tugged her farther down the darkened hallway. The noise from the ballroom faded with each step, an eerie metronome marking the time until she’d be alone with a horny Dittmar.
Ethan! Ronan! Dittmar is taking me somewhere. I can’t get away, she mentally shouted in the hopes that the twins could find a way for her to break free.
She pulled against his hold, but his grip didn’t loosen. “James, where are you taking me? We can’t just go traipsing around the house like this. Those guards look mean, and I don’t want to get in trouble.” When he still didn’t respond, she began to struggle in earnest. “James.”
They entered a room that appeared to be an office. A large desk with two overstuffed chairs placed before it dominated the space. Heavy velvet drapery covered the windows. The only light came from a small desk lamp that glowed in welcome. It wasn’t working. She felt far from welcomed.
The door closed behind her with a decisive click. Dittmar pressed her against the cold wood and devoured her mouth. His hands cupped her buttocks under her skirt and lifted her so her legs went around his waist.
This was it. Her heart pounded a painful rhythm against her ribs as tears filled her eyes. He was going to take her against the door and if she wanted to live, she’d have to play along. Please forgive me, Max.
She let a moan well in her throat and ran her fingers through his hair. She rubbed his temples with the pads of her thumbs with the hope to slow his pace. Maybe if she could bide her time, one of the twins would find her.
