CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Max took his place at the front of the great room and looked on with pride as his team settled in for the meeting.
His team. He couldn’t have asked them to perform any better than they had the night before. Everything had gone as planned—except for the getting shot at part—and Ripley ripping the throat out of one of the bank robbers. But for their first official time officially out, it wasn’t half bad.
The amazing high of being one of the baddest asses out there continued to vibrate along his skin. The fear and awe that had flashed in the eyes of the enemy had been like a drug feeding his power. He had felt invincible. There wasn’t anything he couldn’t accomplish. The only experience that had been more euphoric had been afterward with Crystal in the workout room.
Crystal. Damn. The complex yet simple puzzle that was Crystal Evans.
God, the way she had clung to him, her taste. The way her cries echoed in the room as he sank inside her had been a symphony for the senses. The memory alone sent a wave of heat from his belly down to his groin.
As if she could hear his thoughts, Crystal turned away from her conversation with Alisia and met his heavy-lidded gaze. A smile brought out the dimple in her cheek before she returned to her discussion.
Was she even aware how well he knew her? The hours of observation he put in studying everything there was about her?
Despite her bright smile he saw brittleness edging her lips and the glint of worry in her now-green eyes. She was afraid. Last night’s reality had hit her over the head with the subtlety of a baseball bat, and by her reactions he could tell she was still reeling.
On that, he could totally relate. When it came to Crystal, he was scared shitless.
No doubt about it. She was his weakness, his kryptonite. The absolute terror that had fired through his body when the bullet shot out of that gun toward her had almost crippled him. If he hadn’t reacted when he did, the bullet would have hit her right between the eyes.
Funny how one minute he’d felt stronger than Hercules and the next, a helpless plaything to the gods of fate. No way in hell was he ever going to allow her to be that close to danger again. He was cocky, not stupid. Defeat bad guys—no problem. He could do it in his sleep. Protect his woman—he’d do anything and everything. Cautious didn’t even begin to describe the care he’d take. Crystal’s safety was his priority and he trusted no one or their powers. Not even his own.
When his mother had killed herself, the grief that consumed him had been a combination of immense sadness and the profound loss of what could have been. She could have done so much with her life, but instead had allowed insecurity, jealousy, and deceit to destroy her.
Crystal had such spark, such fire—to see her light extinguished would destroy him. Life without her was unthinkable.
He loved her.
Or at least he thought he did. Never had a woman left him twisted in so many knots. She inspired him with a smile, soothed him with a touch. Inflamed him with a well-placed barb from that wicked tongue, and frightened him with her courage. Surely, that must be love.
And because of that, he had to keep her safe. Of course, he was smart enough to realize that Crystal’s independence and determination would make pulling rank and keeping her out of the fray go over as well as a pacifist at an NRA convention.
Sure, she’d scream at him, but it was for her own good. She had her talents, which he would use when needed, but when it came to physical combat, her place was back on the mountain. To have her anywhere near conflict would drive him insane and weaken his focus if he had to be constantly on alert. In time, she’d understand.
“I’m here. I’m here.” Ripley strode into the room with a gallon-size jug of sports drink in his hand. “We can begin now.”
“Thanks,” Max said with a snort. He nodded at the bottle. “Thirsty?”
Disgust scrunched the shapeshifter’s features. “I still have the taste of bad guy in my mouth. My animal likes it, but it turns my stomach.”
“Did ingesting that blood make you sick?”
“No, just nauseous. Doc did a scan. I’m fine.” He turned to take a seat then stopped. He sniffed once, then again in a long deep breath. His gaze flicked back and forth between Max and Crystal as a shit-eating grin split his face. “How you doin’?”
Max stilled. “I’m fine.”
The grin stretched wider. “I just bet you are.”
Max narrowed his eyes and the bottle in Ripley’s hand began to tremble and expand, the pressure inside building.
“Hey, knock that off,” Ripley demanded, holding the bottle away from him.
“Take your seat,” Max said softly. “Please.”
“Sure, sure. Must not have been that good,” Ripley mumbled as he walked away.
The top of the bottle popped off like a bottle rocket and red sticky liquid bubbled over his hand. He glared at Max over his shoulder. “Man, not cool.”
Max chuckled and clapped his hands together. “Let’s begin.”
The lights dimmed as Addison downloaded several photos onto the screen behind him.
“We prevented Madden from getting his hands on millions of identities, so now the question becomes why he needed them in the first place,” he said.
“Invasion?” Ripley suggested, only half in jest.
“Correct.” Max nodded. “I believe he’s preparing to bring an army into the country and needed those identities. My theory is that by using his own clients, he’ll able to hide any suspicious activity that might arise. If an anomaly in someone’s credit does come up, then he could claim the error was fallout from the bank robbery.”
“What about the Bank of America clients?” Chase asked.
“He needs to spread the suspicion. It wouldn’t look good if Madden clients were the only ones with their identities stolen.”
Doc raised her hand. “So now what? Any idea what he’s going to do now that his plan was foiled?”
“He’s going to make another attempt,” Addison answered. “Just not as elaborate as last night.” A photo of a handsome man in a tailored three-piece suit appeared on the screen. “James Dittmar, regional manager of Madden Financial. About thirty minutes ago, his computer at work launched a program that is harvesting client information and downloading it onto a flash drive. It’s a riskier plan, since it will be easier for law enforcement to track the leak if any of Madden’s scheme becomes known, so they must be in desperate need of the information now.”
Max stroked his chin with his forefinger. “Was the program loaded remotely?”
“No, he launched it at the terminal. The program is still running.”
“So why can’t you stop it?” Ripley asked.
“I could, but the Madden Financial network has a genius firewall.” The hacker glared pointedly at Max. “It will send a virus to any out-of-network computer and fry it, which I would like to avoid. I can monitor that activity, but that’s all. The best and less damaging solution would be to intercept the flash drive.”
“How?”
“Take it from him before tonight.”
“Why tonight?”
She typed a few more keys. “Madden is throwing a party for his investors. Big affair with CEOs from about every technology company there is, including foreign dignitaries from South America and the Middle East, and suspected members of the Italian and Irish mafia. My guess? This is when he’s passing along those identities.”
Max’s pulse quickened. This party was the perfect opportunity to take out not only Madden, but many of the other players in his organization at the same time.
“Addison, access the blueprints for Madden’s house from my files. I have a plan on where we can enter.”
“Not so fast,” she warned and pulled up an image of the morning newspaper. “Apparently you haven’t seen today’s news. You wanted attention, you’ve got it.”
“Superheroes Walk Among Us” read the headline, right above a photo of Maestro decked out in his sunglasses and leather coat. If his father paid even the slightest bit of attention to the news, he’d recognize the Madden chin for certain.
Ripley read aloud. “‘Are these people friend or foe? Authorities are now scrambling to ascertain not only who these people are, but if they plan to stay altruistic. The fear is these people will demand payment for their “services,” and the price will be more than humanity can afford.’ What kind of bullshit is that?” he sputtered.
“Expected,” Crystal replied and gazed up at Max. “We knew it was a possibility we’d be recognized if we went public.”
“You can see the problem,” Addison said. “I bet Madden is working on a plan to counter anything you may do right now.”
“Okay.” Max held up his hand. “If Madden knows about me and my powers, fine, let him come after me. But that’s a big if. First things first, get that flash drive. The rest we’ll plan after we have the drive. Any ideas?”
A collective silence fell upon them.
Crystal burst out with a sharp laugh and doubled over in her chair. While everyone exchanged glances, wondering what the joke was, she wiped the tears from her eyes and leveled a look at Ripley that made Max grateful not to be the recipient.
She caught her breath and sighed. “I have an idea.”