Read Online The Manolo Matrix by Julie Kenner - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Julie Kenner
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I’d thought about being a tiny bit safe. I
needed to hurry or, in the immortal words of Meatloaf, I might be dead.
My stomach wrenched and I clapped my hand over my mouth as I raced for my bathroom. The porcelain of the toilet felt cool against my arms as I literally hugged the toilet, emptying my stomach of the coffee I’d had for lunch.
Weakly, I stood, then walked on shaky legs to the sink. I turned on the faucet, bent over, and sucked down two handfuls of water. Then I splashed water on my face and held myself upright as I inspected my reflection in the mirror.
The girl who looked back at me appeared calmer than I felt. And why not? That girl now had a plan.
Back in the living room, I rummaged on the coffee table until I found the card Mel had given me. I’d had no luck with either Agent Brady or Mel.
Page 30
Now I was pinning my hopes on Andrew Garrison.
I dialed carefully, then held my breath as the phone rang twice, then three times.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
On the third ring, I heard someone pick up, followed by an impatient “Hello?”
I almost fainted with relief. “Mr. Garrison? Andy? My name is Jennifer Crane. I’m a friend of Melanie
Prescott. And—oh, God—I really need your help.”
Chapter
12
BIRDIE
>>http://www.playsurvivewin.com<<
PLAY.SURVIVE.WIN
>>>WELCOME TO REPORTING CENTER<<<
PLAYER REPORT:
REPORT NO. A-0002
Filed By: Birdie
Subject: Status update.
Report:
Secondary subject located and encounter successfully orchestrated.
Time-release toxin delivered.
Initial message to primary subject in transit.
Warning and incentive message to secondary subject in transit.
Game currently proceeding on schedule.
>>>End Report<<
Send Report to Opponent? >>Yes<< >>No<< Block Sender Identity? >>Yes <<>>No<< I shut my newly-acquired laptop, then get up from the Chippendale writing desk. Almost distractedly, I
pace naked in my hotel suite at the Waldorf-Astoria, my head filled with so many thoughts that I can hardly sort through the noise.
I let my fingers trail over the fine silk upholstery of the love seat, then linger on the lilies and roses that are the centerpiece of the ornate flower arrangement that sits atop the coffee table.
The suite is stunning, resplendent in genuine antiques and fine textiles, and I take it all in, enjoying these amenities as if I were a starved person.
And I have been starved. But I have the game to thank for letting me recover my soul in a bit of luxury.
My reward will be even more satisfying when I complete the game, terminating the target and claiming my victory. But the initial payment is sufficient. Certainly enough to allow me to acquire supplies and enjoy a few of the finer things.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
Almost without thinking, I pluck a rose from the arrangement, holding it delicately between two of my fingers. Then I slide the stem down, allowing the hook of the thorn to draw a thin line of Page 31
blood up from my palm.
Once the soft petals rest inside my hand, I make a fist, thinking about my ultimate victory in this game as
I claim this small bit of beauty as my own.
Silly, I know, but I shiver, experiencing a delight so physically intense that it is almost sexual in nature.
Then again, perhaps that isn’t silly. After all, what is sex but the coupling of two individuals designed to create a rush of hormones and stimulate a physical response of ecstasy? That I can create my own ecstasy is both amazing and thrilling, and only underscores my own superiority over those that I hunt.
And it is through the hunt that I will experience the most exquisite ecstasy. Physical, mental, spiritual.
And, most important, I can exact my revenge.
That pleasure, however, must wait. The game has certain rules. Having set the clock in motion by poisoning the girl, now all I can do is stand back and wait, hoping that the lovely Jenn and the
needed to hurry or, in the immortal words of Meatloaf, I might be dead.
My stomach wrenched and I clapped my hand over my mouth as I raced for my bathroom. The porcelain of the toilet felt cool against my arms as I literally hugged the toilet, emptying my stomach of the coffee I’d had for lunch.
Weakly, I stood, then walked on shaky legs to the sink. I turned on the faucet, bent over, and sucked down two handfuls of water. Then I splashed water on my face and held myself upright as I inspected my reflection in the mirror.
The girl who looked back at me appeared calmer than I felt. And why not? That girl now had a plan.
Back in the living room, I rummaged on the coffee table until I found the card Mel had given me. I’d had no luck with either Agent Brady or Mel.
Page 30
Now I was pinning my hopes on Andrew Garrison.
I dialed carefully, then held my breath as the phone rang twice, then three times.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
On the third ring, I heard someone pick up, followed by an impatient “Hello?”
I almost fainted with relief. “Mr. Garrison? Andy? My name is Jennifer Crane. I’m a friend of Melanie
Prescott. And—oh, God—I really need your help.”
Chapter
12
BIRDIE
>>http://www.playsurvivewin.com<<
PLAY.SURVIVE.WIN
>>>WELCOME TO REPORTING CENTER<<<
PLAYER REPORT:
REPORT NO. A-0002
Filed By: Birdie
Subject: Status update.
Report:
Secondary subject located and encounter successfully orchestrated.
Time-release toxin delivered.
Initial message to primary subject in transit.
Warning and incentive message to secondary subject in transit.
Game currently proceeding on schedule.
>>>End Report<<
Send Report to Opponent? >>Yes<< >>No<< Block Sender Identity? >>Yes <<>>No<< I shut my newly-acquired laptop, then get up from the Chippendale writing desk. Almost distractedly, I
pace naked in my hotel suite at the Waldorf-Astoria, my head filled with so many thoughts that I can hardly sort through the noise.
I let my fingers trail over the fine silk upholstery of the love seat, then linger on the lilies and roses that are the centerpiece of the ornate flower arrangement that sits atop the coffee table.
The suite is stunning, resplendent in genuine antiques and fine textiles, and I take it all in, enjoying these amenities as if I were a starved person.
And I have been starved. But I have the game to thank for letting me recover my soul in a bit of luxury.
My reward will be even more satisfying when I complete the game, terminating the target and claiming my victory. But the initial payment is sufficient. Certainly enough to allow me to acquire supplies and enjoy a few of the finer things.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
Almost without thinking, I pluck a rose from the arrangement, holding it delicately between two of my fingers. Then I slide the stem down, allowing the hook of the thorn to draw a thin line of Page 31
blood up from my palm.
Once the soft petals rest inside my hand, I make a fist, thinking about my ultimate victory in this game as
I claim this small bit of beauty as my own.
Silly, I know, but I shiver, experiencing a delight so physically intense that it is almost sexual in nature.
Then again, perhaps that isn’t silly. After all, what is sex but the coupling of two individuals designed to create a rush of hormones and stimulate a physical response of ecstasy? That I can create my own ecstasy is both amazing and thrilling, and only underscores my own superiority over those that I hunt.
And it is through the hunt that I will experience the most exquisite ecstasy. Physical, mental, spiritual.
And, most important, I can exact my revenge.
That pleasure, however, must wait. The game has certain rules. Having set the clock in motion by poisoning the girl, now all I can do is stand back and wait, hoping that the lovely Jenn and the
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