Read Online Project Paper Doll: The Trials by Stacey Kade - Free Book Online

was
dressed like it. A sweatshirt that shouted GO LIONS in black and gold lettering, jeans that were too short at the ankles, and bright white Keds, their brilliance suggesting
they were fresh out of the box.
    But that outfit, like her appearance, was pure camouflage. Justine “You Don’t Need to Know My Last Name” was a hard-ass connected to DHS. Department of Homeland Security. She
had a badge and everything. Whether it was hers or legit, I had no idea. But motherly looks aside, she was about as comforting as a steel beam, and equally communicative.
    “And?” I prompted her. “Or…so?”
    She looked up from her phone, her mouth pursed at my willingness to question her. “
So
,” she said, emphasizing my word with clear displeasure, “if St. John isn’t
back yet, that means they’re hearing him out, at least. The argument is still going on.
And
that works to our advantage.”
    The Committee had cleared the conference room of all candidates after the GTX guards had hauled Ariane away. Dr. Jacobs had been shouting about my presence being a stunt and insisting that I
could
not
be considered a qualified competitor, all while Laughlin sat back and laughed.
    And now Adam and I were stuck waiting to hear the verdict. And not just us. Somewhere in this hotel, Ariane, Ford, and Carter waited too.
    Ariane had looked small and tired, like she hadn’t slept since I’d seen her last. She’d been trapped at GTX, forced to do God knows what.…
    Pushing that thought away, I stepped up my pacing.
    “Hey, if this is all too much for you, I’m ready,” Adam said with a shrug.
    I glared at him.
    “I’m just saying, any time you want to trade places, assuming you actually end up getting a place, that is…” He trailed off.
    “Gentlemen,” Justine said with mild annoyance, barely even looking up from her phone. Of course, she could afford to be calm about this. Regardless of which of us was sent in to the
trials, she still had a chance of getting what she wanted: Ariane.
    The funding and the contract behind Project Paper Doll came from the Department of Defense, but the good people at Homeland Security, a separate department entirely, had other plans.
    Justine had made promises about Ariane’s future, talked of using her as an expert resource rather than a test subject. She’d hinted that Ariane was needed to help them with some
equipment or documents recovered from the New Mexico desert.
    This was my chance to prove myself and make a difference. I wasn’t going to let it go without a fight.
    “I still say I can be pretty convincing when I need to be,” Adam said with a leer.
    He was trying to get under my skin, provoke a reaction. I knew that, and I still couldn’t stop myself. The buzz of power was like static electricity dancing over my skin. The room lights
flickered in response. That was me, losing control.
    But then blood gushed down from my nose to my mouth, and the gathering power dissipated.
    Damn it.
I fumbled in my pocket for a tissue. The process had been designed as a gradual one, intended to be administered over weeks instead of hours, as I’d experienced it. So my
head ached now, almost constantly, with frequent nosebleeds when I accessed new parts of my brain that the DNA embedded in the virus had opened pathways to. (I’d spent a decent chunk of each
week staring up at the inside of various diagnostic devices—CT scanners, MRI machines, and others I didn’t even recognize.)
    “You are so not ready for this,” Adam said in disgust.
    The lock disengaged on the door suddenly, loudly, in the relative quiet of the room. Even though we’d been expecting it, waiting for it, the sound froze us.
    Emerson came in, appearing more rumpled than usual, his hair standing up in tufts and his glasses pushed up on his forehead. His mouth was a thin grim line.
    Crap.
This could not be good news.
    Even Justine slipped her phone into her pocket to pay attention for once.
    But before Emerson could say