The Host (The Host #1)(91)

Melanie’s love flowed through me like a lake bursting through a dam, distracting me even more from the enraged barbarian closing the distance quickly.

Ian slid into my view, moving to place himself in front of me. I strained my neck to the side to keep my view of Jared clear.

“Things changed while you were gone, brother.”

Kyle halted, face slack with disbelief. “Did the Seekers come, then, Ian?”

“She’s not a danger to us.”

Kyle ground his teeth together, and from the corner of my eye, I saw him reach for something in his pocket.

This captured my attention at last. I cringed, expecting a weapon. The words stumbled off my tongue in a choked whisper. “Don’t get in his way, Ian.”

Ian didn’t respond to my plea. I was surprised at the amount of anxiety this caused me, at how much I didn’t want him hurt. It wasn’t the instinctive protection, the bone-deep need to protect, that I felt for Jamie or even Jared. I just knew that Ian should not be harmed trying to protect me.

Kyle’s hand came back up, and a light shone out of it. He pointed it at Ian’s face, held it there for a moment. Ian didn’t flinch from the light.

“So, what, then?” Kyle demanded, putting the flashlight back in his pocket. “You’re not a parasite. How did it get to you?”

“Calm down, and we’ll tell you all about it.”

“No.”

The contradiction did not come from Kyle but from behind him. I watched Jared walk slowly toward us through the silent spectators. As he got closer, Jamie still clinging to his hand with a bewildered expression, I could read his face better under the mask of dirt. Even Melanie, all but delirious with happiness at his safe return, could not misunderstand the expression of loathing there.

Jeb had wasted his efforts on the wrong people. It didn’t matter that Trudy or Lily was speaking to me, that Ian would put himself between his brother and me, that Sharon and Maggie made no hostile move toward me. The only one who had to be convinced had now, finally, decided.

“I don’t think anyone needs to calm down,” Jared said through his teeth. “Jeb,” he continued, not looking to see if the old man had followed him forward, “give me the gun.”

The silence that followed his words was so tense I could feel the pressure inside my ears.

From the instant I could clearly see his face, I’d known it was over. I knew what I had to do now; Melanie was in agreement. As quietly as I could, I took a step to the side and slightly back, so that I would be clear of Ian. Then I closed my eyes.

“Don’t happen to have it on me,” Jeb drawled.

I peeked through narrowed eyes as Jared whirled to assess the truth of Jeb’s claim.

Jared’s breath whistled angrily through his nostrils. “Fine,” he muttered. He took another step toward me. “It will be slower this way, though. It would be more humane if you were to find that gun fast.”

“Please, Jared, let’s talk,” Ian said, planting his feet firmly as he spoke, already knowing the answer.

“I think there’s been too much talk,” Jared growled. “Jeb left this up to me, and I’ve made my decision.”

Jeb cleared his throat noisily. Jared spun halfway around to look at him again.

“What?” he demanded. “You made the rule, Jeb.”

“Well, now, that’s true.”

Jared turned back toward me. “Ian, get out of my way.”

“Well, well, hold on a sec,” Jeb went on. “If you recall, the rule was that whoever the body belonged to got to make the decision.”

A vein in Jared’s forehead pulsed visibly. “And?”

“Seems to me like there’s someone here with a claim just as strong as yours. Mebbe stronger.”

Jared stared straight ahead, processing this. After a slow moment, understanding furrowed his brow. He looked down at the boy still hanging on his arm.

All the joy had drained from Jamie’s face, leaving it pale and horrorstruck.

“You can’t, Jared,” he choked. “You wouldn’t. Wanda’s good. She’s my friend! And Mel! What about Mel? You can’t kill Mel! Please! You have to —” He broke off, his expression agonized.

I closed my eyes again, trying to block the picture of the suffering boy from my mind. It was already almost impossible not to go to him. I locked my muscles in place, promising myself that it wouldn’t help him if I moved now.

“So,” Jeb said, his tone far too conversational for the moment, “you can see that Jamie’s not in agreement. I figure he’s got as much say as you do.”

There was no answer for so long that I had to open my eyes again.

Jared was staring at Jamie’s anguished, fearful face with his own kind of horror.

“How could you let this happen, Jeb?” he whispered.

“There is a need for some talk,” Jeb answered. “Why don’t you take a breather first, though? Maybe you’ll feel more up to conversation after a bath.”

Jared glared balefully at the old man, his eyes full of the shock and pain of the betrayed. I had only human comparisons for such a look. Caesar and Brutus, Jesus and Judas.

The unbearable tension lasted through another long minute, and then Jared shook Jamie’s fingers off his arm.