The Host (The Host #1)

Ian’s fingers pressed against my lips. “Shh, shh. Okay. Let’s think about this. When was the last time you heard her?”


“Oh, Ian! It was right after I saw… in the hospital. And she tried to defend them… and I screamed at her… and I—I made her go away! And I haven’t heard her since. I can’t find her!”

“Shh,” he said again. “Calmly. Okay. Now, what do you really want? I know you don’t want to upset Jamie, but he’s going to be fine regardless. So, consider—would it be better, just for you, if —”

“No! I can’t erase Melanie! I can’t. That would be wrong! That would make me a monster, too!”

“Okay, okay! Okay. Shh. So we have to find her?”

I nodded urgently.

He took another deep breath. “Then you need to… really be overwhelmed, don’t you?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

I was afraid I did, though.

Kissing Ian was one thing—even a pleasant thing, maybe, if I wasn’t so racked with worry—but anything more… elaborate… Could I? Mel would be furious if I used her body that way. Was that what I had to do to find her? But what about Ian? It was so grossly unfair to him.

“I’ll be right back,” Ian promised. “Stay here.”

He pressed me against the wall for emphasis and then ducked back out into the hallway.

It was hard to obey. I wanted to follow him, to see what he was doing and where he was going. We had to talk about this; I had to think it through. But I had no time. Jamie was waiting for me, with questions that I couldn’t answer with lies. No, he wasn’t waiting for me; he was waiting for Melanie. How could I have done this? What if she was really gone?

Mel, Mel, Mel, come back! Melanie, Jamie needs you. Not me—he needs you. He’s sick, Mel. Mel, can you hear that? Jamie is sick!

I was talking to myself. No one heard.

My hands were trembling with fear and stress. I wouldn’t be able to wait here much longer. I felt like the anxiety was going to make me swell until I popped.

Finally, I heard footsteps. And voices. Ian wasn’t alone. Confusion swept through me.

“Just think of it as… an experiment,” Ian was saying.

“Are you crazy?” Jared answered. “Is this some sick joke?”

My stomach dropped through the floor.

Overwhelmed. That’s what he’d meant.

Blood burned in my face, hot as Jamie’s fever. What was Ian doing to me? I wanted to run, to hide somewhere better than my last hiding place, somewhere I could never, ever be found, no matter how many flashlights they used. But my legs were shaking, and I couldn’t move.

Ian and Jared came into view in the room where the tunnels met. Ian’s face was expressionless; he had one hand on Jared’s shoulder and was guiding him, almost pushing him forward. Jared was staring at Ian with anger and doubt.

“Through here,” Ian encouraged, forcing Jared toward me. I flattened my back against the rock.

Jared saw me, saw my mortified expression, and stopped.

“Wanda, what’s this about?”

I threw Ian one blazing glance of reproach and then tried to meet Jared’s eyes.

I couldn’t do it. I looked at his feet instead.

“I lost Melanie,” I whispered.

“You lost her!”

I nodded miserably.

His voice was hard and angry. “How?”

“I’m not sure. I made her be quiet… but she always comes back… always before… I can’t hear her now… and Jamie…”

“She’s gone?” Muted agony in his voice.

“I don’t know. I can’t find her.”

Deep breath. “Why does Ian think I have to kiss you?”

“Not kiss me,” I said, my voice so faint I could barely hear it myself. “Kiss her. Nothing upset her more than when you kissed us… before. Nothing pulled her to the surface like that. Maybe… No. You don’t have to. I’ll try to find her myself.”

I still had my eyes on his feet, so I saw him step toward me.

“You think, if I kiss her… ?”

I couldn’t even nod. I tried to swallow.

Familiar hands brushed my neck, tracing down either side to my shoulders. My heart thudded loud enough that I wondered if he could hear it.

I was so embarrassed, forcing him to touch me this way. What if he thought it was a trick—my idea, not Ian’s?

I wondered if Ian was still there, watching. How much would this hurt him?

One hand continued, as I knew it would, down my arm to my wrist, leaving a trail of fire behind it. The other cupped beneath my jaw, as I knew it must, and pulled my face up.

His cheek pressed against mine, the skin burning where we were connected, and he whispered in my ear.

“Melanie. I know you’re there. Come back to me.”

His cheek slowly slid back, and his chin tilted to the side so that his mouth covered mine.

He tried to kiss me softly. I could tell that he tried. But his intentions went up in smoke, just like before.