The Host (The Host #1)(148)

Why had I left him?

Jamie’s face was red and sweaty. The right leg of his jeans had been cut away, and the bandage was peeled back from his wound. It wasn’t as big as I’d expected. Not as horrible as I would have imagined. Just a two-inch gash with smooth edges. But the edges were a frightening shade of red, and the skin around the cut was swollen and shiny.

“Wanda,” Jamie exhaled when he saw me. “Oh, you’re okay. Oh.” He took a deep breath.

I stumbled and fell to my knees beside him, dragging Ian down with me. I touched Jamie’s face and felt the skin burn under my hand. My elbow brushed Doc’s, but I barely noticed. He scooted away, but I didn’t look to see what emotion was on his face, whether it was aversion or guilt.

“Jamie, baby, how are you?”

“Stupid,” he said, grinning. “Just plain stupid. Can you believe this?” He gestured to his leg. “Of all the luck.”

I found a wet rag on his pillow and wiped it across his forehead.

“You’re going to be fine,” I promised. I was surprised at how fierce my voice sounded.

“Of course. It’s nothing. But Jared wouldn’t let me come talk to you.” His face was suddenly anxious. “I heard about… and Wanda, you know I —”

“Shh. Don’t even think of it. If I’d had any idea you were sick I would have been here sooner.”

“I’m not really sick. Just a stupid infection. I’m glad you’re here, though. I hated not knowing how you were.”

I couldn’t swallow down the lump in my throat. Monster? My Jamie? Never.

“So I heard you schooled Wes the day we got back,” Jamie said, changing the subject with a wide grin. “Man, I wish I could have seen that! I bet Melanie loved it.”

“Yes, she did.”

“She okay? Not too worried?”

“Of course she’s worried,” I murmured, watching the cloth travel across his forehead as if it were someone else’s hand moving it.

Melanie.

Where was she?

I searched through my head for her familiar voice. There was nothing but silence. Why wasn’t she here? Jamie’s skin was burning where my fingers brushed it. The feel of it—that unwholesome heat—should have had her in the same panic I was feeling.

“You okay?” Jamie asked. “Wanda?”

“I’m… tired. Jamie, I’m sorry. I’m just… out of it.”

He eyed me carefully. “You don’t look so good.”

What had I done?

“I haven’t cleaned up in a while.”

“I’m fine, you know. You should go eat or something. You’re pale.”

“Don’t worry about me.”

“I’ll get you some food,” Ian said. “You hungry, kid?”

“Ah… no, not really.”

My eyes flashed back to Jamie. Jamie was always hungry.

“Send someone else,” I told Ian, gripping his hand tighter.

“Sure.” His face was smooth, but I could sense both surprise and worry. “Wes, could you get some food? Something for Jamie, too. I’m sure he’ll find that appetite by the time you get back.”

I measured Jamie’s face. He was flushed, but his eyes were bright. He would be okay for a few minutes if I left him here.

“Jamie, do you mind if I go wash my face? I feel sort of… grimy.”

He frowned at the false note in my voice. “Course not.”

I pulled Ian up with me again as I rose. “I’ll be right back. I mean it this time.”

He smiled at my weak joke.

I felt someone’s eyes on me as I left the room. Jared’s or Doc’s, I didn’t know. I didn’t care.

Only Jeb still stood in the hallway now; the others had gone, reassured, perhaps, that Jamie was doing okay. Jeb’s head tilted to the side, curious, as he tried to figure out what I was doing. He was surprised to see me leave Jamie’s side so soon and so abruptly. He, too, had heard the sham in my excuse.

I hurried past his inquisitive gaze, towing Ian with me.

I dragged Ian back through the room where the tunnels to all the living quarters met in a big tangle of openings. Instead of keeping on toward the main plaza, I pulled him into one of the dark corridors, picking at random. It was deserted.

“Wanda, what —”

“I need you to help me, Ian.” My voice was strained, frantic.

“Whatever you need. You know that.”

I put my hands on either side of his face, staring into his eyes. I could barely see a glint of their blue in the darkness.

“I need you to kiss me, Ian. Now. Please.”

CHAPTER 42

Forced

Ian’s jaw fell slack. “You… what?”

“I’ll explain in a minute. This isn’t fair to you, but… please. Just kiss me.”

“It won’t upset you? Melanie won’t bother you?”

“Ian!” I complained. “Please!”

Still confused, he put his hands on my waist and pulled my body against his. His face was so worried, I wondered if this would even work. I hardly needed the romance, but maybe he did.

He closed his eyes as he leaned toward me, an automatic thing. His lips pressed lightly against mine once, and then he pulled back to look at me with the same worried expression.