The Host (The Host 1)

His eyes, clear liquid sienna in the illumination, shine with no more than human reflection. He bounces the light between left and right.

"See? See? I'm just like you. "

"Let me see your neck. " Suspicion is thick in my voice. I don't let myself believe that this is more than a trick. I don't understand the point of the charade, but I'm sure there is one. There is no hope anymore.

His lips twist. "Well. . . That won't exactly help anything. Aren't the eyes enough? You know I'm not one of them. "

"Why won't you show me your neck?"

"Because I have a scar there," he admits.

I try to squirm out from under him again, and his hand pins my shoulder.

"It's self-inflicted," he explains. "I think I did a pretty good job, though it hurt like hell. I don't have all that pretty hair to cover my neck. The scar helps me blend in. "

"Get off me. "

He hesitates, then gets to his feet in one easy move, not needing to use his hands. He holds one out, palm up, to me.

"Please don't run away. And, um, I'd rather you didn't kick me again, either. "

I don't move. I know he can catch me if I try to run.

"Who are you?" I whisper.

He smiles wide. "My name is Jared Howe. I haven't spoken to another human being in more than two years, so I'm sure I must seem. . . a little crazy to you. Please, forgive that and tell me your name, anyway. "

"Melanie," I whisper.

"Melanie," he repeats. "I can't tell you how delighted I am to meet you. "

I grip my bag tightly, keeping my eyes on him. He reaches his hand down toward me slowly.

And I take it.

It isn't until I see my hand curl voluntarily around his that I realize I believe him.

He helps me to my feet and doesn't release my hand when I'm up.

"What now?" I ask guardedly.

"Well, we can't stay here for long. Will you come back with me to the house? I left my bag. You beat me to the fridge. "

I shake my head.

He seems to realize how brittle I am, how close to breaking.

"Will you wait for me here, then?" he asks in a gentle voice. "I'll be very quick. Let me get us some more food. "

"Us?"

"Do you really think I'm going to let you disappear? I'll follow you even if you tell me not to. "

I don't want to disappear from him.

"I. . . " How can I not trust another human completely? We're family-both part of the brotherhood of extinction. "I don't have time. I have so far to go and. . . Jamie is waiting. "

"You're not alone," he realizes. His expression shows uncertainty for the first time.

"My brother. He's just nine, and he's so frightened when I'm away. It will take me half the night to get back to him. He won't know if I've been caught. He's so hungry. " As if to make my point, my stomach growls loudly.

Jared's smile is back, brighter than before. "Will it help if I give you a ride?"

"A ride?" I echo.

"I'll make you a deal. You wait here while I gather more food, and I'll take you anywhere you want to go in my jeep. It's faster than running-even faster than you running. "

"You have a car?"

"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.