Genesis (The Evolutioneers Book 1), page 29
He must have run into Ripley, she thought with a smirk. Was it a good or bad thing she still found humor in the midst of her fear? Perhaps she was closer to losing her ever-loving mind than she thought. Of course, crazy could also work in her favor.
Madden’s chest rose with a deep breath, and he straightened. Even dressed in his shredded suit, he exuded power and authority. “Well, isn’t this fortuitous.”
Crystal gathered the length of chain and let it swing from her hand. The clink of metal on metal sent a warning. “Excuse me. I would like to pass.”
He smiled at her. “Such backbone, such courage. It’s exquisite. My son couldn’t have picked a finer woman.”
“I’m so glad I have parental approval. Now get out of my way,” she snarled.
He hedged closer and reached for her. “I can’t do that. I seem to be without protection, and you’re my ticket out of here.”
“Guess again.”
She swung the metal chain like a whip, striking him in the arm. Madden grunted and backed away, then approached her from the right. She countered and swung again. This time he wrapped the chain around his arm and pulled. Instead of resisting, she allowed him to tug and used her momentum to plow into him.
Her forehead connected with his nose with a loud crack that made them both stagger back with a moan as stars swam in her vision. One Madden turned into two images before her. With all the hits to the head she was taking, if she wasn’t careful, she was going to suffer permanent brain damage.
“All right. I’m done playing.” Madden pulled a gun from what was left of his suit and leveled it right at her.
She stopped short as familiarity triggered her memory. Suddenly, she realized exactly where she stood. The foliage, the fountain, the gun. This was her vision. This was where she died.
All the fight went out of her in one deflated gasp of air. Fear crept into her mind in a dank mist bleeding her of hope.
Was this really her end? Would she never see Max again, hold him, love him?
Madden had played a part in the death of Max’s mother. That grief triggered his superpowers. What would Max do if his father killed her too? Would his powers grow to the level where he could destroy the planet with a single thought?
In her heart, she knew he would never let her death go unavenged. Dittmar had touched her and Max had been ready to fight to the death. Madden might as well turn the gun on himself afterward, because that would be a much less painful ending than what Max would inflict.
But what about afterward? Would he return to that dark, solitary existence where he trusted no one? Would he allow the others to fight without him? The thought of Max alone and bitter weakened her knees.
Tears filled her eyes, and she angrily blinked them away. No. No. No! If she expected Max to choose to live without her, then she had to fight to live now.
Ethan said that Max was right behind her. She couldn’t give up yet.
She lifted her chin and held out her arms to show her acquiescence. The chain clanked softly between her spread hands. “So what’s your plan?”
Madden blinked at her as if he was surprised by her change of compliance. “We walk out of here. There is a break in the fence through the woods. Once we’re on the road, we can go our separate ways.”
She snorted at that. “Yeah, right. Like you’ll just let me go. My team will be on us before we get ten feet.” She hoped.
“Which is why you are going to guarantee my protection.”
“Of course,” she replied with a touch of sarcasm. Her smile turned sickly sweet. “And who will protect you from the threat within your own organization?”
A curl of satisfaction warmed her insides as she saw his confidence falter. His stance wavered a little as his brow furrowed. “What are you talking about? I’m in complete control of my people.”
Her deep throaty laugh echoed in the night. “That’s a crock. How do you think Max knew about your plans? He was at Anthony’s the night he supposedly died. Max was the one who killed most of the men there. Anthony told him all of your secrets with the hope that Max would take you down. Apparently your love of sex has made you an unfit leader in Anthony’s eyes.” She smirked.
The muscles of his jaw flexed and his nostrils flared. His furious gaze moved to a point over her shoulder. “Is that true?”
“Yes,” a voice behind her answered.
Her heart sank further. Well, shit, just who she wanted to see.
Anthony appeared to her right with his own gun drawn and aimed at Madden. The tip of Madden’s gun wavered back and forth between the two of them. Hmm. Perhaps she could turn him into a temporary ally.
She slid a sideways glance at Anthony. “So, how’s your nut sack?”
He glared at her with murderous intent. How unexpected. Not. “Don’t. Start.”
She laughed and winked at Madden. “Well, you’ll have one less man to compete for the ladies with. His equipment won’t be functioning properly for a while.”
“He hasn’t felt pain yet,” Madden sneered. “You think you can overthrow me? How dare you. I made you.”
“Yes, you did. So it should be no surprise that it took very little effort to undermine you. Everyone knows I am the one makes things happen. You’re just the poster boy. The pretty bait to lure in the public. But you’ve dropped the ball there, Mattie. You lose focus too easily. That’s why you’ll have to go.”
The nose of Madden’s gun rose higher. “I’ll see you in hell first.”
Anthony grabbed her arm and dragged her in front of him. “That’s the point.”
Madden’s laugh made her stomach twist. “You think hiding behind a woman will save you? Think again.”
The blast of the gun echoed into the night.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Max ran toward the beacon of light in the dark hallway with his heart in his throat. Considering what his father had exposed him to as a teenager, Max grew more fearful over what Crystal might be forced to endure. Why didn’t he know about this part of the house? Was it a recent addition, or had his father engaged in more illicit dealings than Max had been aware of while growing up in the mansion?
He burst through the open door with hands raised in defense. Harsh disappointment slammed into him when he found the room empty.
Terror twisted his gut as he took in the padded tables and S&M equipment decorating the space. This was a room designed for pleasures of the flesh. And Crystal had been held here. Good God, what did they do to her?
As he took a step forward, he stumbled on an object, drawing his attention to the floor. A black stiletto. Its mate lay near an overturned table. An empty snifter rested on its side in a wet puddle.
Hope sprung in his chest. Whatever happened, she didn’t go down without a fight.
“Max,” one of the twins called to him. “Crystal escaped. She’s on the run.”
I’m in the room now. Which way did she go?
“To the right. Hurry. She thinks—” The sudden pause made Max’s heart skip.
What? She thinks what?
“She had a vision. She believes she’s going to die.”
What! When? How? He ran for the hall.
“I don’t know. I was only able to catch a fleeting image.”
“Stop right there,” a male voice ordered.
Max ducked back into the room, narrowly missing a barrage of bullets.
Motherfucker. A couple of bullets he could deflect, but a hailstorm of lead was something he didn’t want to test his powers on, especially with his energy waning.
He pulled his .45 from his belt and slid home his magazine. With a kiss on the barrel for extra luck, he took aim around the doorframe and pulled the trigger.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he muttered with each pull of the trigger until the gun emptied.
In a last-ditch effort, he held out his palms. The broken chair and table sailed through the air as piss-poor excuses for missiles.
“Come on. Come on,” he muttered, trying to peer around the doorjamb into the hall. If he could just focus for a few seconds on one of the shooters’ guns, he might have a chance to snatch it for himself.
But the constant barrage of bullets prevented him from leaving himself exposed for more than a heartbeat.
A weapon. Where the hell was he going to find a weapon?
A wicked smile twisted his mouth as he snatched a whip from a shelf.
“Thank you, Dad,” he said aloud.
Heavy footsteps approached the door. Quickly, he took a stance to the side and held his breath in anticipation.
The end of a rifle appeared first. The tip of the whip cracked as Max looped it around the barrel, jerking it free and tossing it toward the bed, where it landed with a gentle thump.
Not so gentle was the technique Max used to break the soldier’s arm and slam his forehead into soft cartilage. As the man crumbled to his knees, a second guard opened fire, spraying the room haphazardly. A bullet grazed Max in the arm, cutting a swath through the leather and taking a chunk of skin with it.
Max’s bicep burned as he slung the whip out to encircle the gunman’s neck. The solider dropped the rifle to grasp the strip of hide. His eyes started to bulge behind his visor when Max yanked back and snapped his neck.
In through the mouth, out through the mouth. He tried to ignore the coppery scent of the blood seeping into his jacket. This was not the time to get sick.
After ensuring the hall was clear, Max raced in the direction Crystal had taken. A door at the end stood ajar. He eased it open and peered out.
“Which way, which way,” he murmured.
The vast expanse of lawn stretched out before him. Dew was already forming and clung to each blade of grass, except for where a darker trail snaked off to the left. The courtyard.
“Whoever’s available, come to the courtyard,” Max directed to his earpiece. “It’s the hedged-off area near the ballroom. Crystal’s there and she’s in trouble.”
“On it,” Doc answered.
His breath puffed out in swirling clouds as he raced toward the courtyard. During the spring, his mother had loved to sit under the cherry blossoms and read to him when he was a child. Within the confines of the hedges, he had been allowed to play, to imagine, to be a little boy when his father had wanted him to be a man. The courtyard was a haven.
If Crystal made it there, then one of the others could catch up with her. She’d be safe.
In the distance, he spotted the break in the hedge. A man stood at the opening. The back of his white shirt appeared to glow in the moonlight. Anthony.
Max’s legs pumped harder as anger surged through him, coating the back of his throat with the bitter taste of vengeance.
As he approached the entrance, his view of the interior widened and he saw his father standing to his right, a gun drawn. The faint light glinted on the weapons both men held pointed at each other with Crystal caught in between.
Suddenly, Anthony hauled Crystal in front of him as if she were a shield. Madden’s laughter reached Max’s ears a second before he squeezed the trigger.
“No!” Max reached out into the air, throwing his energy in an effort to deflect the trajectory of the bullet. Blades of grass bowed out in a ripple, and the leaves swirled as the surge of energy rolled in a wave toward Crystal.
No, no, no. He was too far away. He wouldn’t make it.
Crystal jerked and slumped in Anthony’s hold as he fired back twice in quick succession.
Madden stumbled backward. The bullets added more holes and splotches of blood to his shredded shirt. Shock slackened his face before he fell back into the fountain with a heavy splash.
Anthony set Crystal’s limp form on the stone pavers and straightened a second before Max tackled him from behind. Over and over they tumbled across the hard surface. DeMateo rolled on top of Max and blocked the right hook aimed at his face. He answered back with a punch that connected with Max’s jaw, snapping his head to the side and dislodging his sunglasses.
Murderous rage took over Max’s mind, numbing him to everything else. Stiff armed, he grappled with DeMateo, who had his hands wrapped around Max’s neck, while digging his knee into his gut.
“I’m sorry, Max,” DeMateo panted. “I’m sorry your father hurt your girl.” His fingers tightened. “We can make this right. Work with me. Together we can save the world.”
“Crystal is my world, you son of a bitch,” Max rasped.
He narrowed his eyes, concentrating on DeMateo’s beating heart. Molecule by molecule, Max manipulated the blood racing through Anthony’s veins.
Anthony gasped and keeled over, writhing and clutching at his chest. The whites of his eyes turned pink with breaking blood vessels.
Max staggered to his feet and stared down at the man he once loved like a brother. There wasn’t enough pain he could inflict to ever make up for what the bastard had done.
“Please.” DeMateo reached out. His breath rattled in his faltering lungs.
“Payback’s a bitch, huh?”
With one last wheezing breath, Anthony’s head lolled to the side. His empty gaze stared in the direction of Madden’s loafers that hung over the side of the fountain. Neither man was getting up again.
He rushed to Crystal’s side. Blood seeped from a hole above her heart and trickled down onto the stone beneath her. In the shadows, her pale skin glowed ghostly white, the dark crescent of her lashes laid like half-moons on her cheeks.
“Crystal,” his voice cracked. He ripped a section of her flimsy skirt off and pressed it to the wound. For once, it was his utter helplessness that weakened his stomach and not the stench of blood. “Sweetheart, baby, please open your eyes.”
Her lids fluttered ever so gently. “Max,” she mouthed.
“Doc’s coming, sweetie. Doc!” he shouted. “Just stay with me.”
Her mouth trembled in a weak smile. Her face was pinched tight in pain. “Love you.” The barely whispered words speared through him.
“I love you, too. Stay with me, baby. Stay with me,” he ordered, then begged. Her eyes drifted closed and her body wilted. “Stay! Stay!”
Under his palm her pulse slowed, then stopped altogether.
“Crystal. Crystal!”
“Max, I’m here. Move.” Doc shoved against his hunched form. “Dammit, Max, move!”
When he didn’t budge she jumped to the other side and shoved his blood-covered hands out of her way. She placed her bare palms over the hole in Crystal’s chest and closed her eyes.
Max gritted his teeth, every muscle in his body tensed as if to feed her his strength. He took Crystal’s icy hand between both of his and bent to whisper encouragements in her ear. Failure burned like acid in his gut when he saw her face. Bruises marred her cheeks, the entire left side swollen and red. Heat scorched down his cheek as his first tear fell.
Losing her now was not an option. Without her, his world was as dark and empty as his mountain had been before he met her. She was his light, his warmth, his reason for believing in the good of man.
Please, baby, please, please, please.
Continuing his prayers, he lifted his gaze to the clear night sky, then over to where Anthony’s body lay. A bolt of fury shot from Max’s core and raised the body in the air and slammed it back to the ground. Over and over he bashed the corpse against the earth until the last of his energy gave out and Anthony was nothing more than a bloody pulp. He sagged with exhaustion, yet the rage still roiled inside him.
“Holy shit.”
Max whipped his head around to see Sheriff Lancaster and Deputy Davis running into the courtyard with weapons drawn.
“Sheriff?” Max blinked in confusion.
“Gunfire was reported to be coming from Madden’s mansion. We sent in the SWAT team and found your friends.” His sharp gaze took in the scene. “Holy shit,” he repeated and reached for his radio. “Send me a medic around back. Now. We’re near the cherry blossoms.”
“No,” Doc gasped. “Don’t.”
“Your medics can’t help,” Max added. “Please.”
Lancaster’s mouth pinched as if he wanted to argue, but he nodded and placed a hand on Davis’s shoulder. “Get blankets, first-aid kit, whatever. Keep the EMTs on standby.” He dropped to his knees next to Doc. “What do we have?”
“Gunshot. She—” Max broke off, unable to say anymore.
“Shock,” Doc panted. Her arms shook from trying to keep her weight off Crystal. Deep lines bracketed her mouth and sweat beaded on her brow.
Lancaster placed his arm around Doc’s shoulders to keep her upright. Uncertainty creased his forehead, but he held his tongue. Collectively, they focused their energy as if by will alone they could somehow help revive Crystal’s heart.
This could not be happening. He had superpowers, for fuck’s sake. He could manipulate molecules. There had to be something he could do.
Wait. He could manipulate molecules.
“Doc, hold on. I’m going in.”
Her eyes widened with alarm and the line of her lips tightened, but she didn’t say a word, continuing to concentrate.
Max placed his palm on Crystal’s chest, careful not to block Doc’s efforts. He imagined Crystal’s heart, struggling, broken, and used his power to keep the muscle beating as Doc worked her magic on repairing the damage.
Long seconds dragged, with only Doc’s labored breathing and his own breaking the silence. With his free hand, Max lifted Crystal’s limp hand and pressed his lips to her cold fingers and resumed his prayers while more tears fell from his tightly shut lids.
He meant what he said to DeMateo. Crystal was his world, and the thought of not having her in it was beyond torture.
An icy touch brushed his cheek, tickling his evening stubble. He pulled back and stared at Crystal’s fingers. They were twitching.
They were twitching.
Crystal hitched a short breath, then a longer one. Her eyelids fluttered open just as Doc collapsed against Lancaster.
“Doc,” the sheriff gasped.
“I’ll be okay.” She smiled and sank deeper into Lancaster’s hold. “Tired. That was close.”
“Max?” Crystal whispered.
