The Host (The Host #1)(12)

“Of course. Do you think I walked out here?”

I think of the six hours it took me to walk here, and my forehead furrows.

“We’ll be back to your brother in no time,” he promises. “Don’t move from this spot, okay?”

I nod.

“And eat something, please. I don’t want your stomach to give us away.” He grins, and his eyes crinkle up, fanning lines out of the corners. My heart gives one hard thump, and I know I will wait here if it takes him all night.

He is still holding my hand. He lets go slowly, his eyes not leaving mine. He takes a step backward, then pauses.

“Please don’t kick me,” he pleads, leaning forward and grabbing my chin. He kisses me again, and this time I feel it. His lips are softer than his hands, and hot, even in the warm desert night. A flock of butterflies riots in my stomach and steals my breath. My hands reach for him instinctively. I touch the warm skin of his cheek, the rough hair on his neck. My fingers skim over a line of puckered skin, a raised ridge right beneath the hairline.

I scream.

I woke up covered in sweat. Even before I was all the way awake, my fingers were on the back of my neck, tracing the short line left from the insertion. I could barely detect the faint pink blemish with my fingertips. The medicines the Healer had used had done their job.

Jared’s poorly healed scar had never been much of a disguise.

I flicked on the light beside my bed, waiting for my breathing to slow, veins full of adrenaline from the realistic dream.

A new dream, but in essence so much the same as the many others that had plagued me in the past months.

No, not a dream. Surely a memory.

I could still feel the heat of Jared’s lips on mine. My hands reached out without my permission, searching across the rumpled sheet, looking for something they did not find. My heart ached when they gave up, falling to the bed limp and empty.

I blinked away the unwelcome moisture in my eyes. I didn’t know how much more of this I could stand. How did anyone survive this world, with these bodies whose memories wouldn’t stay in the past where they should? With these emotions that were so strong I couldn’t tell what I felt anymore?

I was going to be exhausted tomorrow, but I felt so far from sleep that I knew it would be hours before I could relax. I might as well do my duty and get it over with. Maybe it would help me take my mind off things I’d rather not think about.

I rolled off the bed and stumbled to the computer on the otherwise empty desk. It took a few seconds for the screen to glow to life, and another few seconds to open my mail program. It wasn’t hard to find the Seeker’s address; I only had four contacts: the Seeker, the Healer, my new employer, and his wife, my Comforter.

There was another human with my host, Melanie Stryder.

I typed, not bothering with a greeting.

His name is Jamie Stryder; he is her brother.

For a panicked moment, I wondered at her control. All this time, and I’d never even guessed at the boy’s existence—not because he didn’t matter to her, but because she protected him more fiercely than other secrets I’d unraveled. Did she have more secrets this big, this important? So sacred that she kept them even from my dreams? Was she that strong? My fingers trembled as I keyed the rest of the information.

I think he’s a young adolescent now. Perhaps thirteen. They were living in a temporary camp, and I believe it was north of the town of Cave Creek, in Arizona. That was several years ago, though. Still, you could compare a map to the lines I remembered before. As always, I’ll tell you if I get anything more.

I sent it off. As soon as it was gone, terror washed through me.

Not Jamie!

Her voice in my head was as clear as my own spoken aloud. I shuddered in horror.

Even as I struggled with the fear of what was happening, I was gripped with the insane desire to e-mail the Seeker again and apologize for sending her my crazy dreams. To tell her I was half asleep and to pay no attention to the silly message I’d sent.

The desire was not my own.

I shut off the computer.

I hate you, the voice snarled in my head.

“Then maybe you should leave,” I snapped. The sound of my voice, answering her aloud, made me shudder again.

She hadn’t spoken to me since the first moments I’d been here. There was no doubt that she was getting stronger. Just like the dreams.

And there was no question about it; I was going to have to visit my Comforter tomorrow. Tears of disappointment and humiliation welled in my eyes at the thought.

I went back to bed, put a pillow over my face, and tried to think of nothing at all.

CHAPTER 5

Uncomforted

Hello there, Wanderer! Won’t you take a seat and make yourself at home?”

I hesitated on the threshold of the Comforter’s office, one foot in and one foot out.

She smiled, just a tiny movement at the corners of her mouth. It was much easier to read facial expressions now; the little muscle twitches and shifts had become familiar through months of exposure. I could see that the Comforter found my reluctance a bit amusing. At the same time, I could sense her frustration that I was still uneasy coming to her.

With a quiet sigh of resignation, I walked into the small brightly colored room and took my usual seat—the puffy red one, the one farthest from where she sat.

Her lips pursed.

To avoid her gaze, I stared through the open windows at the clouds scuttling past the sun. The faint tang of ocean brine blew softly through the room.