The Host (The Host #1)(79)

It won’t be any easier for him if he’s unprepared.

“They won’t believe that, Jamie,” I whispered. “They’ll think I’m lying to trick you. They’ll just want to kill me more if you tell them that. Only Seekers lie.”

The word made him shudder.

“But you’re not lying. I know it,” he said after a moment.

I shrugged.

“I won’t let them kill her.”

His voice, though quiet as a breath, was fierce with determination. I was paralyzed at the thought of him becoming more involved with this situation, with me. I thought of the barbarians he lived with. Would his age protect him from them if he tried to protect me? I doubted it. My thoughts scrambled, searching for some way to dissuade him without triggering his stubbornness.

Jamie spoke before I could say anything; he was suddenly calm, as if the answer was plain in front of him. “Jared will think of something. He always does.”

“Jared won’t believe you, either. He’ll be the angriest of them all.”

“Even if he doesn’t believe it, he’ll protect her. Just in case.”

“We’ll see,” I muttered. I’d find the perfect words later—the argument that would not sound like an argument.

Jamie was quiet, thinking. Eventually, his breathing got slower, and his mouth fell open. I waited until I was sure he was deeply under, and then I crawled over him and very carefully shifted him from the floor to the bed. He was heavier than before, but I managed. He didn’t wake.

I put Jared’s pillow back where it belonged, and then stretched out on the mat.

Well, I thought, I just hurled myself out of the frying pan. But I was too tired to care what this would mean tomorrow. Within seconds, I was unconscious.

When I woke, the crevices in the ceiling were bright with echoed sunlight, and someone was whistling.

The whistling stopped.

“Finally,” Jeb muttered when my eyes fluttered.

I rolled onto my side so that I could look at him; as I moved, Jamie’s hand slid from my arm. Sometime in the night he must have reached out to me—well, not to me, to his sister.

Jeb was leaning against the natural rock door frame, his arms folded across his chest. “Morning,” he said. “Get enough sleep?”

I stretched, decided that I felt acceptably rested, and then nodded.

“Oh, don’t give me the silent treatment again,” he complained, scowling.

“Sorry,” I murmured. “I slept well, thank you.”

Jamie stirred at the sound of my voice.

“Wanda?” he asked.

I was ridiculously touched that it was my silly nickname that he spoke on the edge of sleep.

“Yes?”

Jamie blinked and pulled his tangled hair out of his eyes. “Oh, hey, Uncle Jeb.”

“My room not good enough for you, kid?”

“You snore real loud,” Jamie said, and then yawned.

“Haven’t I taught you anything?” Jeb asked him. “Since when do you let a guest and a lady sleep on the floor?”

Jamie sat up suddenly, staring around, disoriented. He frowned.

“Don’t upset him,” I told Jeb. “He insisted on taking the mat. I moved him when he was asleep.”

Jamie snorted. “Mel always used to do that, too.”

I widened my eyes slightly at him, trying to convey a warning.

Jeb chuckled. I looked up at him, and he had that same pouncing-cat expression he’d had yesterday. The solved-puzzle expression. He walked over and kicked the edge of the mattress.

“You’ve already missed your morning class. Sharon’s bound to be testy about that, so get a move on.”

“Sharon is always testy,” Jamie complained, but he got to his feet quickly.

“On your way, boy.”

Jamie looked at me again, then he turned and disappeared into the hall.

“Now,” Jeb said as soon as we were alone. “I think all this baby-sitting nonsense has gone on long enough. I’m a busy man. Everyone is busy here—too busy to sit around playin’ guard. So today you’re going to have to come along with me while I get my chores done.”

I felt my mouth pop open.

He stared at me, no smile.

“Don’t look so terrified,” he grumbled. “You’ll be fine.” He patted his gun. “My house is no place for babies.”

I couldn’t argue with that. I took three quick, deep breaths, trying to steady my nerves. Blood pulsed so loudly in my ears that his voice seemed quiet in comparison when he spoke again.

“C’mon, Wanda. Day’s wasting.”

He turned and stomped out of the room.

I was frozen for a moment, and then I lurched out after him. He wasn’t bluffing—he was already invisible around the first corner. I raced after him, horrified by the thought that I might run into someone else in this obviously inhabited wing. I caught up to him before he reached the big intersection of the tunnels. He didn’t even look at me as I slowed beside him to match his pace.

“’Bout time that northeast field was planted. We’ll have to work the soil first. Hope you don’t mind getting your hands dirty. After we’re done, I’ll see that you get a chance to clean yourself up. You need it.” He sniffed pointedly, then laughed.