Wicked Sexy (Wicked Games #2)

It’s Miranda, coming to stand near, her pacing abandoned. Though she’s still perfectly coiffed and there’s not a wrinkle on her expensive clothing, her face is pale and strained. It looks like her rest break didn’t take.

Tabby says, “You’re not. But he definitely is. And the only thing that can distract S?ren from his game is another game. So I’m going to give him one.” She looks at Harry, and her voice loses some of its edge. “With your permission.”

In silence, he assesses her face. After an uncomfortably long pause, he says, “Go on.”

Tabby nods. “Okay. So in addition to having a malware blocker, the program I’ve uploaded to the network backbone automatically responds to any new attempted breaches with a counterstrike—”

“It automatically returns fire against a threat, without human direction?” interrupts Rodriguez incredulously. “Like the NSA’s MonsterMind program, which isn’t even supposed to be in existence yet?”

“Yes. Exactly like that.”

Under the weight of her simple admission, the room falls into stunned silence. Harry shoots me a stony glance, and I know with chilling certainty what he’s thinking.

Tabby hacked the National Security Administration and stole their software.

If that’s true, she’ll spend the next few decades in prison.

All the blood drains from my face.

Tabby rolls her eyes and sighs. “You guys, relax. It’s my program, okay? I can prove I developed it. And I’d never go near the NSA servers, anyway—even I’m not that crazy.”

After a moment, Harry asks, “And what does this program of yours do in terms of counterstrike? Specifically.”

A smile works its way over Tabby’s face. “Well, without getting overly technical, once the program detects an attempted breach, it follows it back to the source and launches malicious code in the originating system.”

Harry looks dubious. “Which then does what?”

She shrugs. “Anything from wiping out data, to gathering data, to making a little white cat dance on every network monitor that can never be bypassed, thereby rendering the system useless. That’s why S?ren’s so mad right now. He’s getting a taste of his own medicine, and it tastes like shit.”

Rodriguez frowns. “A dancing white cat…” His gaze falls on Tabby’s Hello Kitty watch. His eyes widen. He sucks in a breath.

Harry asks irritably, “What now, Rodriguez?”

Rodriguez breathes, “She’s…Polaroid! She broke into NASA’s mainframe, Citibank’s, the Church of Scientology’s, the Department of Defense…you name it, Polaroid’s done it, and always left behind a dancing white cat, just like that one!” He points accusingly at her watch.

The sound of fifteen FBI agents gasping in unison is one I’ll never forget.

Undaunted, Tabby says calmly, “Oh keep your panties on, Rodriguez. I’ve never heard of this Polaroid, but I’m sure only a guy would be smart enough to do all that, right? Besides, lots of girls like Hello Kitty.” She smiles sweetly at Harry. “Including your daughter, as I recall.”

When Harry cuts his gaze to me, my blood freezes inside my veins.

This is highly dangerous. I have a millisecond to decide which side of the law I’m on, because if the FBI thinks Tabby is a threat to national security and I defend her, then I’m a threat too.

But as fast as I have the thought, I just as fast realize I don’t care. Somehow over the course of the past few days, protecting her has become my number one priority.

I’ll think about what that means later.

I’m standing in front of Tabby in full-on bristling battle mode before anyone can even blink an eye, my legs spread apart, my nostrils flared, every muscle in my body tensed to steel.

I snarl, “Anybody wants to try to get to her, they have to go through me!”





Seventeen





Connor




No one moves.

After a long, silent moment, Ryan says drily, “Brother, you’ve got a lot to catch me up on.”

Harry sighs and looks at the ceiling. He mutters, “Lord, give me patience.” Then he looks at me. “No one’s trying to get to anyone, all right? Now stand down, we’ve got a job to do.”

Rodriguez protests, “But sir! She—”

“Shut the fuck up, Rodriguez!” thunders Harry, red-faced. “If I wanted your opinion I’d give it to you! Make yourself useful and go get me a cup of coffee!”

A livid Rodriguez glares at Tabby, and then spins on his heel and stalks out.

Harry irritably instructs the rest of the gathered agents, “Everyone else take a meal or rest break. Have your asses back here in an hour. Chan, you stay.”

Slowly the agents disperse, whispering among themselves, shooting Tabby curious glances over their shoulders as they leave the room. When the last of them are gone, Harry turns to Tabby.

“I think we need to have another talk, Miss West. But for right now, let’s get on with it. What were you saying about a game?”

With a hand on my shoulder, Ryan gently pulls me a few feet away so I’m no longer blocking Tabby.

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