Genesis (The Evolutioneers Book 1) Read online

  GENESIS

  Book 1 of The Evolutioneers Series

  Anna Alexander

  AnnaAlexander.net

  Newsletter

  http://eepurl.com/Q0tsz

  People suck, at least according to reclusive inventor Max Madden—except for his friend and mentor, Anthony. But now Anthony is dead after uncovering evidence that an avaricious financier caused the current economic crisis and is out for world domination, a man Max knows has the money, resources, and charm to succeed—his own father. Now Max is out for vengeance and he doesn’t need a distraction like Crystal Evans tagging along.

  The provocative psychic may have soft lips, curves like a Ferrari, and a scent like vanilla sugar, but she also has a thirst for redemption that will never be quenched. Max can’t help but admire her tenacity, and when she leads him to others who also have superhuman powers, he agrees to lead this team of crime-fighting supers if they all agree that he will be the one to take his father down.

  But fate and circumstance has a way of bitch-slapping a man to awareness, and emotional hungers Max once detested have become what he now craves. When Crystal becomes the key to Madden Sr.’s downfall, Max must choose: Can he send the woman he’s come to love on the mission, a mission during which she has seen her death in a vision, or have his revenge?

  Dedication

  Para mi familia. Siempre.

  And to all of the girls who poured over their weekly comics, cried when Gwen died, sat by Diana’s side in her invisible jet, and swooned over the love Remi had for Rogue.

  This one is for you.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  About the Book

  Dedication

  Find Anna Online

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Epilogue

  Also by Anna Alexander

  About Anna Alexander

  Copyright Page

  Find Anna Online

  Website

  annaalexander.net

  Facebook

  facebook.com/pages/Anna-Alexander/282170065189471

  Twitter

  twitter.com/AnnaWriter

  Newsletter

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  CHAPTER ONE

  “I really need to see you, Max. Now.”

  The fear in Anthony’s voice shot right into Max’s ear and sent a shiver down his spine.

  Max squinted at the speaker that Anthony’s voice was coming through over the phone line. “What’s going on?”

  “I—I have to talk to you and I can’t do it over the phone. Please.”

  Max held his breath, his brow furrowing while he considered Anthony’s words. Urgency filled the pause and seemed to pulsate like an electric current against his cheek as he puzzled out why Anthony DeMateo, the most self-sufficient, even-keeled man Max had ever known, sounded as if the snap of a twig would send him into hysterics.

  He rubbed his hand against his jean-clad thigh and eyed the security monitors that displayed the storm raging outside. There was little that would draw Max out of his mountain home even on a good day. Anthony was one of those exceptions.

  A wave of guilt for not keeping in better contact with his mentor dried out his throat. Whenever Max was in need, Anthony had been there. Well, except for that one occasion. But even then he had stayed by his side until Max was ready to stand on his own. Besides, it wasn’t as if making the effort for a friend would kill him.

  “Yeah. Okay. I’m leaving now.”

  “Thanks, Max,” Anthony replied with a palpable sigh of relief. “See you soon.”

  Max turned back to his virtual reality game and grinned when he saw the number of open dialogue boxes flashing on the jumbo LED television that served as his monitor.

  “Yo man, where are you, M3?”

  “Where are you?”

  “We’re waiting on you.”

  “Sorry, guys,” Max said after he engaged his headset. “Reality is calling. Have fun storming the castle without me.”

  “Man, that’s lame. We need you to get past those Arasai.”

  “You’ll be fine. We’ll do it again another day.”

  As he held his fingers over the keys to terminate the game, he paused, suddenly reluctant to disconnect from the one place he felt at home. On more than one occasion, Anthony had voiced his concern about Max’s life of complete solitude, even though he was never entirely cut off from society. When he wasn’t dealing with his software buyers, he was in contact with hundreds of people a day playing online video games.

  Yeah, yeah. Max was not blind to the irony of his choice of escapism. And just as in real life, gamers sought out his avatar for his power and abilities. The only difference was in the gaming world they were upfront with what they wanted from him, instead of playing coy games of false flattery while they plotted how to exploit his intelligence.

  What would the people in both of his worlds demand if they had any idea of what he was really capable of? A general distaste for the world at large warred with his amusement over that mental image. His blood, his life, his soul?

  Didn’t matter anyway. Never again would he allow another to take what was his. Never.

  In the quiet of his home built deep in the side of a mountain, he closed his eyes and the silence began to weigh on him as if he were lying on an inflatable raft that kept expanding around him, bulging in giant bubbles until it hugged him in a suffocating grip. No one would even know Max Madden was no more as he withered away in his man-made cocoon.

  He sucked in a sharp breath and tried to shake the oppressive loneliness from his mind. His life was shaped by his choices, the way he wanted, and it suited him just fine. These occasional…misgivings were probably signs of cabin fever. A change of scenery would take care of the cobwebs right quick. Yeah, all he needed was some fresh air.

  He logged out of the game and raised both hands in the air. The familiar sizzling sensation gathered in his chest and radiated down his arms to his fingers. Waving his hands as if he were conducting an orchestra, he gestured at the keyboard and watched it levitate. As it traveled across the room and slid gently onto the shelf, the television turned off and the cabinet doors closed with a flick of his fingers.

  With a small smile of satisfaction, he got to his feet and rubbed his hands together before searching for his coat and keys. It had taken him years of moving objects to and fro before the use of his telekinetic powers stopped leaving him fatigued and battered. Carving out his mountain home had almost killed him. But just like with any set of muscles, the more he used his powers, the stronger he became. If only he had more use for them than tidying up his place.

  On his way out the door, he set the elaborate security system that monitored his pro
perty. Although his lair had yet to be found, it wasn’t for lack of people trying. When your net worth was in the billions of dollars, everyone wanted a piece of you.

  Max slid behind the wheel of his black Ferrari 488 GTB—affectionately nicknamed the Beast—and squinted into the dark rainy night as the two-inch-thick galvanized garage door disappeared into the rock face.

  The scents of exhaust and wet earth filled the tight, posh interior of his car as he pressed down on the accelerator. The thick tires caught on the cement with a squeal, leaving hot rubber on its surface before the car took off in a plume of smoke.

  The Beast was a phantom in the night, hugging the slick curves of the mountain highway like spandex on a stripper. The growl of the monster V8 echoed in the downpour, clearing its way of both animal and machine. Vibrations shot through his body, making him giddy with the rush of handling such a powerful machine. It was almost as good as sex. Almost.

  God, he loved this car.

  In less time than was legally allowed, Max arrived at the gate surrounding five acres of forest and lawn that sat at the base of Cougar Mountain. Before he touched the button on the call box, the gate swung open, allowing him entrance. He pulled the Beast to a stop in the circular driveway, then cut the engine.

  The rain continued to hammer down as if Mother Nature was seriously pissed off at the world and decided to engage in a cleanse. Max grimaced at the deluge. He’d be soaked in seconds in his leather coat. The duster wasn’t practical for this type of weather, but it suited him. Fortunately, it wasn’t as if he needed to impress anyone with his appearance.

  He stepped out of the car in quick movements to minimize the amount of water splashing into the Ferrari’s black leather interior, then jogged up the front steps of the log cabin–style house. As with the gate, the door opened before he lifted his hand to knock.

  Anthony stood at the door with a highball glass full of ice in his hand. Behind him, the house was dark. “Come in, come in.” He gestured with his free hand and scanned the front yard with fear in his eyes before shutting the door behind them. “Thanks for coming, Max.”

  “How did you know I was at the gate?” Max asked, pushing the wet fall of his hair out of his eyes.

  Anthony shot him an ‘are you kidding’ expression and gestured at the door. “The entire county can hear that monster of an engine. Were you followed?”

  “No,” Max drew out slowly. He blinked rapidly as his vision struggled to focus in the dark entryway. Unease coiled in his gut as he took a good look at his friend in what little light streamed in from the windows.

  Even in his late forties, Anthony had retained that youthful, healthy appearance that came with being an avid outdoorsman. But tonight he looked exhausted. His blond hair stuck out as if he had been repeatedly running his hands through the strands. The top button of his shirt was open, his tie loose around his neck, the cotton rumpled. Anthony was always immaculately dressed, even if he were out on the soccer field or in the woods on a hike. Never anything less than tidy. Something was wrong.

  “You got here fast. I thought you were home in that mysterious cave of yours.” Anthony’s dry chuckle cracked. He led the way past the large, open living room and down the hall. “Can I get you a drink?”

  “No, thanks.” Max followed him into his study and frowned as he took in the odd setup in the office. A linen handkerchief covered the Tiffany lap on the desk, muting the light, and the blinds and curtains on the massive window were drawn shut, the sides held together with binder clips. “Anthony, what’s up?”

  Anthony swallowed hard and took a seat behind his desk. He traced a distracted line on the smooth mahogany surface with the tip of his well-manicured finger. “I don’t know, Max. I don’t know.” He made another pass through his hair with his shaking hands. “Have you spoken to your father lately?”

  Max stilled as he fought the surge of violence that roared through his blood at the mention of that rat bastard.

  Matthew Maxwell Madden II. A man whose name was as big as his ego and ambition. Max’s father and Anthony’s boss.

  Max preferred to forget that the man who had supplied DNA to him even existed, but Anthony always held out hope that they would reconcile. Family is forever and all that sentimental shit. Pigs would write code before that ever happened.

  “You know we haven’t,” he replied in a low tone.

  Anthony nodded, his eyes downcast. “I was hoping that one day you two would be able to put the past behind you. Maybe if…” He turned the open laptop on the desk around to face Max. “I guess it won’t matter now anyway. I was hoping I was wrong, but I don’t think so. You know how the economy is still tanking? Government bailouts aren’t helping. Domestic markets are as unstable as ever. Hell, the world is on the brink of nuclear war.” He shook his head. “Madden Financial stands to lose big.”

  Anthony sat on the board of Madden Financial, a conglomerate of financial institutions owned by Max’s father. When it came to business, Anthony stood by Madden 100 percent. But the way Madden had treated Max and his mother, as though they were his personal property as opposed to human beings, had caused more than one heated argument between the two men.

  It had been ten years since Max had broken ties with his father. If Anthony was worried enough to get him involved in Madden business, it had to be bad.

  Frowning, Max crossed his arms. “How much damage are we talking?”

  His mentor’s Adam’s apple bobbed twice. “A billion. Give or take a hundred grand.”

  “Ha-ha. Funny.”

  “Ha-ha. Not funny.” Anthony’s blue-eyed stare was as impenetrable as stone. “I’m serious, Max.”

  “Th-that’s impossible,” Max exclaimed as his knees buckled and he fell hard onto a chair. “A company isn’t set to lose that much money without there being talk somewhere on the internet.”

  “That’s just it. There hasn’t been talk because we’re doing better than we should be.” He swallowed again. “Much, much better. Look at this.” He clicked open several files on the desktop and arranged the spreadsheets side by side for comparison. “I’ve been monitoring the situation, and for some reason, money that Madden Financial should have lost isn’t gone, so I dug deeper and found this. Something seemed off with these ten investors here.” Anthony pointed to the middle spreadsheet.

  “Off how?”

  “On the surface there is no connection. This company makes handguns, this one here is a pharmaceutical company, and this one here develops automobile engines. They’re not publicly traded, nor are they sole proprietorships. They are owned by conglomerations, yet I can’t find a board member or contact information anywhere in our files or online. It’s almost as if they’re run by ghosts. I asked your father, but he said that he’s working with the owners and their investors personally. Look, when hundreds of millions of dollars are on the line I need more than a ‘Trust me,’ so I—” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I broke into your father’s office.”

  “How the hell did you manage that?”

  Distaste tightened Anthony’s lips. “I used that hidden entrance to his office from the hallway that leads into the parking garage. I waited until he was…occupied elsewhere in the building to go through his things. His computer was still logged on.”

  Max didn’t need an explanation of what had kept Madden “occupied.” Anthony’s expression said it all. It was a well-known fact that the only thing Madden loved more than money was women. His political power and wealth made him the ultimate babe magnet. A pretty young thing in a tight skirt and a down-to-there sweater was like waving the green flag at Daytona. Madden made no excuses for the behavior he claimed was compelled by his colossal sex drive, and his exploits had become the stuff of legend in his social circle.

  “Anyway,” Anthony continued, well aware of the damage Madden’s sex life had had on Max’s mother. “It took me a few attempts, but I found emails, and those emails led to documents I found hidden in his office. Matthew is the sole owner of all
these companies. Not Madden Financial, but Matthew personally.”

  “So you’re saying that my father is using Madden Financial as his own personal piggy bank to develop other companies?”

  “Not just that, he’s using those companies to hedge his investments against each other. So when one defaults, the others collect on the original investment, plus the base points, all at the expense of the bank’s shareholders. And there’s more.”

  Max dropped his head in his hands and rubbed his eyes. Of course there was.

  “Funds from these companies are being deposited into off-shore accounts tied directly to Matthew. I found statements that show there’s more sitting in those accounts than what he’s earning as the head of Madden Financial and these companies combined. Lots more.”

  “How much?”

  Anthony swallowed again and looked away. “Billions.”

  Max couldn’t have heard that correctly. “Billions? As in plural?”

  “Almost one hundred billion total.”

  “That’s impossible. Someone would have had to notice at some point. You can’t have that much money changing hands without the FDIC, SEC, and IRS catching wind of it.”

  “I know. That’s why he stole it.”

  “What?” His father was cold, calculating, and manipulative, but master bank thief? No way. “How?”

  “Come on, Max.” Anthony barked and jumped to his feet. “You know how. With computers. You broke into every US satellite system with nothing but a PC and dial-up when you were thirteen.”

  “Hey.” Max held up his hand. “They asked me to check their firewall. It was perfectly legal.”

  Anthony grunted. “He’s been doing this for years, and the other financial institutions have been covering it up. Did you honestly believe that many mortgage lenders and banks had practically every loan they issued default at the same time? If you were Fannie Mae or Merrill Lynch, what would you say? That you had thousands of homeowners default on their loans or you had ninety billion dollars stolen from you? It was all stolen, but they covered up. Think of the worldwide hysteria that would cause. There would be a run on every bank in the world.”