Stones: Experiment (Stones #3) Read Online Free
Author: Jacob Whaler
and well worth your time to consider.”
CHAPTER 4
J ust before he makes the jump, nausea surges in Matt’s belly.
I must be crazy.
Heart beating wildly, Matt peels back his eyelids as the white flash dies, Stone in hand, ready to lunge in any direction.
Ready for an onslaught of blue lightning. A burst from a pulse rifle. Someone trying to kill him.
But the room is dark, empty, deserted. He faces the great wooden desk.
It stands next to the window like the hulk of a wrecked battleship, with papers, books, an antique-looking statue, slates and more than one jax strewn on its surface. A red sofa hugs the wall to his right. Chinese calligraphy hangs above it. To the left is an old grandfather clock standing like a silent tombstone. Everything is just as he remembers it.
Ryzaard’s office.
It’s crazy to come here. If Jessica knew, Matt knows what she would say.
How can you be so reckless?
Blame it on the dreams. For the past week, he’s seen the same scene over and over, like a repeating loop on a holo ad in the Tokyo subway. One of the many dreams he hasn’t told Jessica about.
Moving as quietly as he can, he walks to the back of Ryzaard’s desk. The statue catches his eye, a little man standing erect, wearing armor, one hand on a hip, the other hand holding the remnants of a spear, staring back at the chair where Ryzaard sits. Without thinking, Matt reaches out to pick it up. It’s comfortable in his hand. As he brings it closer to his eye, he sees the well-worn surface of the abdomen and legs. But the eyes are still etched in high relief. The eyes of a king, an emperor. A god.
And then Matt realizes what he’s looking at.
Zeus.
It makes sense. Ryzaard fancies himself as a modern-day conqueror of the world. Strong enough to take down even the mighty Chinese.
Matt drops the statue with disgust. It thuds to the desk and rolls to the side.
Recalling images from his dreams, he remembers seeing Ryzaard move around the desk, searching for something. Matt opens the drawer in the middle, reaches into the far left corner and gropes for the key.
And finds it. Exactly as in the dream.
Retrieving the key, he moves to a drawer on the far right, inserts the key, and opens the lock. The drawer slides out easily, and another key lies in the middle. He replaces the first key back to its spot and bends below the desk, dropping his hands to the smooth wood floor, searching for a slight indentation.
His fingers drop half a centimeter, and he senses the cool surface of metal. Finding the tiny hole, he inserts the second key, twists and pulls. A lid moves up on squeaky hinges.
Matt reaches inside.
The sound of approaching feet comes from the hallway on the other side of the closed door.
Panic sweeps through his chest, freezing his movements.
Still gripping the Stone in his left hand, he thinks of jumping away.
No.
Ignoring the sound, he plunges his right hand into the hole and gropes for the object he saw in his dreams. A cube.
Fingertips brush against a smooth surface, cold to the touch, and pull back.
Footsteps, crisp and clean, are now just a few meters from the door.
Hand sliding along the cold surface, he wraps his fingers on the cube, pulls it out, flips the metal lid back down and turns the key. In an instant, the key is back in its spot in the drawer.
Everything is back to where it was. Ryzaard will have no idea Matt was in his office.
Matt stands up, gripping the cube. His eyes drop to the small green jewel floating inside.
The footsteps outside the door go silent. Matt knows he should jump away, but can’t. Overcome with curiosity and adrenaline, he waits for the door to open.
The locking mechanism turns.
Matt is as still as the statue on Ryzaard’s desk. His mind is screaming at him to jump away, but his body refuses to move. All he needs is a glimpse.
The door cracks open, slowly, carefully. Delicate fingers appear. Then a blonde head. A body clothed in black glove leather pants and top. A
CHAPTER 4
J ust before he makes the jump, nausea surges in Matt’s belly.
I must be crazy.
Heart beating wildly, Matt peels back his eyelids as the white flash dies, Stone in hand, ready to lunge in any direction.
Ready for an onslaught of blue lightning. A burst from a pulse rifle. Someone trying to kill him.
But the room is dark, empty, deserted. He faces the great wooden desk.
It stands next to the window like the hulk of a wrecked battleship, with papers, books, an antique-looking statue, slates and more than one jax strewn on its surface. A red sofa hugs the wall to his right. Chinese calligraphy hangs above it. To the left is an old grandfather clock standing like a silent tombstone. Everything is just as he remembers it.
Ryzaard’s office.
It’s crazy to come here. If Jessica knew, Matt knows what she would say.
How can you be so reckless?
Blame it on the dreams. For the past week, he’s seen the same scene over and over, like a repeating loop on a holo ad in the Tokyo subway. One of the many dreams he hasn’t told Jessica about.
Moving as quietly as he can, he walks to the back of Ryzaard’s desk. The statue catches his eye, a little man standing erect, wearing armor, one hand on a hip, the other hand holding the remnants of a spear, staring back at the chair where Ryzaard sits. Without thinking, Matt reaches out to pick it up. It’s comfortable in his hand. As he brings it closer to his eye, he sees the well-worn surface of the abdomen and legs. But the eyes are still etched in high relief. The eyes of a king, an emperor. A god.
And then Matt realizes what he’s looking at.
Zeus.
It makes sense. Ryzaard fancies himself as a modern-day conqueror of the world. Strong enough to take down even the mighty Chinese.
Matt drops the statue with disgust. It thuds to the desk and rolls to the side.
Recalling images from his dreams, he remembers seeing Ryzaard move around the desk, searching for something. Matt opens the drawer in the middle, reaches into the far left corner and gropes for the key.
And finds it. Exactly as in the dream.
Retrieving the key, he moves to a drawer on the far right, inserts the key, and opens the lock. The drawer slides out easily, and another key lies in the middle. He replaces the first key back to its spot and bends below the desk, dropping his hands to the smooth wood floor, searching for a slight indentation.
His fingers drop half a centimeter, and he senses the cool surface of metal. Finding the tiny hole, he inserts the second key, twists and pulls. A lid moves up on squeaky hinges.
Matt reaches inside.
The sound of approaching feet comes from the hallway on the other side of the closed door.
Panic sweeps through his chest, freezing his movements.
Still gripping the Stone in his left hand, he thinks of jumping away.
No.
Ignoring the sound, he plunges his right hand into the hole and gropes for the object he saw in his dreams. A cube.
Fingertips brush against a smooth surface, cold to the touch, and pull back.
Footsteps, crisp and clean, are now just a few meters from the door.
Hand sliding along the cold surface, he wraps his fingers on the cube, pulls it out, flips the metal lid back down and turns the key. In an instant, the key is back in its spot in the drawer.
Everything is back to where it was. Ryzaard will have no idea Matt was in his office.
Matt stands up, gripping the cube. His eyes drop to the small green jewel floating inside.
The footsteps outside the door go silent. Matt knows he should jump away, but can’t. Overcome with curiosity and adrenaline, he waits for the door to open.
The locking mechanism turns.
Matt is as still as the statue on Ryzaard’s desk. His mind is screaming at him to jump away, but his body refuses to move. All he needs is a glimpse.
The door cracks open, slowly, carefully. Delicate fingers appear. Then a blonde head. A body clothed in black glove leather pants and top. A
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