The Host (The Host #1)(153)

He met my gaze for one long moment. Then he looked around the room, at every other face. Jeb, Doc, Kyle, Ian, Trudy. Out the door at the silent audience whose expressions mirrored Kyle’s: Sharon, Violetta, Lucina, Reid, Geoffrey, Heath, Heidi, Andy, Aaron, Wes, Lily, Carol. My friends mixed in with my enemies, all of them wearing Kyle’s face. He stared at the next row, which I couldn’t see. Then he looked down at Jamie. There was no sound of breathing in the whole room.

“No, Wanda,” he said quietly. “No.”

A sigh of relief from the rest.

My knees buckled. I fell forward and yanked free of Ian’s hands when he tried to pull me back up. I crawled to Jamie and pushed Trudy aside with my elbow. The silent room watched. I took the compress from his head and refilled the melted ice. I didn’t meet the stares I could feel on my skin. I couldn’t see anyway. The tears swam in front of my eyes.

“Jamie, Jamie, Jamie,” I crooned. “Jamie, Jamie, Jamie.”

I couldn’t seem to do anything but sob out his name and touch the packets of ice over and over, waiting for the moment they would need changing.

I heard them leave, a few at a time. I heard their voices, mostly angry, fade away down the halls. I couldn’t make sense of the words, though.

Jamie, Jamie, Jamie…

“Jamie, Jamie, Jamie…”

Ian knelt beside me when the room was almost empty.

“I know you wouldn’t… but Wanda, they’ll kill you if you try,” he whispered. “After what happened… in the hospital. They’re afraid you have good reason to destroy us.… Anyway, he’ll be all right. You have to trust that.”

I turned my face from him, and he went away.

“Sorry, kid,” Jeb mumbled when he left.

Jared left. I didn’t hear him go, but I knew when he was gone. That seemed right to me. He didn’t love Jamie the way we did. He had proved that. He should go.

Doc stayed, watching helplessly. I didn’t look at him.

The daylight faded slowly, turned orange and then gray. The ice melted and was gone. Jamie started to burn alive under my hands.

“Jamie, Jamie, Jamie…” My voice was cracked and hoarse now, but I couldn’t stop. “Jamie, Jamie, Jamie…”

The room turned black. I couldn’t see Jamie’s face. Would he leave in the night? Had I already seen his face, his living face, for the last time?

His name was just a whisper on my lips now, low enough that I could hear Doc’s quiet snoring.

I wiped the tepid cloth across his body without ceasing. As the water dried, it cooled him a little. The burn lessened. I began to believe that he wouldn’t die tonight. But I wouldn’t be able to hold him here forever. He would slip away from me. Tomorrow. The next day. And then I would die, too. I would not live without Jamie.

Jamie, Jamie, Jamie… Melanie groaned.

Jared didn’t believe us. The lament was both of ours. We thought it at the same time.

It was still silent. I didn’t hear anything. Nothing alerted me.

Then, suddenly, Doc cried out. The sound was oddly muffled, like he was shouting into a pillow.

My eyes couldn’t make sense of the shapes in the darkness at first. Doc was jerking strangely. And he seemed too big—like he had too many arms. It was terrifying. I leaned over Jamie’s inert form, to protect him from whatever was happening. I could not flee while he lay helpless. My heart pounded against my ribs.

Then the flailing arms were still. Doc’s snore started up again, louder and thicker than before. He slumped to the ground, and the shape separated. A second figure pulled itself away from his and stood in the darkness.

“Let’s go,” Jared whispered. “We don’t have time to waste.”

My heart nearly exploded.

He believes.

I jumped to my feet, forcing my stiff knees to unbend. “What did you do to Doc?”

“Chloroform. It won’t last long.”

I turned quickly and poured the warm water over Jamie, soaking his clothes and the mattress. He didn’t stir. Perhaps that would keep him cool until Doc woke up.

“Follow me.”

I was on his heels. We moved silently, almost touching, almost running but not quite. Jared hugged the walls, and I did the same.

He stopped when we reached the light of the moon-bright garden room. It was deserted and still.

I could see Jared clearly for the first time. He had the gun slung behind his back and a knife sheathed at his waist. He held out his hands, and there was a length of dark fabric in them. I understood at once.

The whispered words raced out of my mouth. “Yes, blindfold me.”

He nodded, and I closed my eyes while he tied the cloth over them. I would keep them closed anyway.

The knot was quick and tight. When he was done, I spun myself in a fast circle—once, twice…

His hands stopped me. “That’s okay,” he said. And then he gripped me harder and lifted me off the ground. I gasped in surprise as he threw me against his shoulder. I folded there, my head and chest hanging over his back, beside the gun. His arms held my legs against his chest, and he was already moving. I bounced as he jogged, my face brushing against his shirt with each stride.

I had no sense of which way we were going; I didn’t try to guess or think or feel. I concentrated only on the bouncing of his gait, counting steps. Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three…