Home > The Host (The Host #1)(142)

The Host (The Host #1)(142)
Author: Stephenie Meyer

“I haven’t cleaned up in a while.”

“I’m fine, you know. You should go eat or something. You’re pale.”

“Don’t worry about me.”

“I’ll get you some food,” Ian said. “You hungry, kid?”

“Ah… no, not really.”

My eyes flashed back to Jamie. Jamie was always hungry.

“Send someone else,” I told Ian, gripping his hand tighter.

“Sure.” His face was smooth, but I could sense both surprise and worry. “Wes, could you get some food? Something for Jamie, too. I’m sure he’ll find that appetite by the time you get back.”

I measured Jamie’s face. He was flushed, but his eyes were bright. He would be okay for a few minutes if I left him here.

“Jamie, do you mind if I go wash my face? I feel sort of… grimy.”

He frowned at the false note in my voice. “Course not.”

I pulled Ian up with me again as I rose. “I’ll be right back. I mean it this time.”

He smiled at my weak joke.

I felt someone’s eyes on me as I left the room. Jared’s or Doc’s, I didn’t know. I didn’t care.

Only Jeb still stood in the hallway now; the others had gone, reassured, perhaps, that Jamie was doing okay. Jeb’s head tilted to the side, curious, as he tried to figure out what I was doing. He was surprised to see me leave Jamie’s side so soon and so abruptly. He, too, had heard the sham in my excuse.

I hurried past his inquisitive gaze, towing Ian with me.

I dragged Ian back through the room where the tunnels to all the living quarters met in a big tangle of openings. Instead of keeping on toward the main plaza, I pulled him into one of the dark corridors, picking at random. It was deserted.

“Wanda, what —”

“I need you to help me, Ian.” My voice was strained, frantic.

“Whatever you need. You know that.”

I put my hands on either side of his face, staring into his eyes. I could barely see a glint of their blue in the darkness.

“I need you to kiss me, Ian. Now. Please.”

CHAPTER 42

Forced

Ian’s jaw fell slack. “You… what?”

“I’ll explain in a minute. This isn’t fair to you, but… please. Just kiss me.”

“It won’t upset you? Melanie won’t bother you?”

“Ian!” I complained. “Please!”

Still confused, he put his hands on my waist and pulled my body against his. His face was so worried, I wondered if this would even work. I hardly needed the romance, but maybe he did.

He closed his eyes as he leaned toward me, an automatic thing. His lips pressed lightly against mine once, and then he pulled back to look at me with the same worried expression.

Nothing.

“No, Ian. Really kiss me. Like… like you’re trying to get slapped. Do you understand?”

“No. What’s wrong? Tell me first.”

I put my arms around his neck. It felt strange; I wasn’t at all sure how to do this right. I pushed up on my toes and pulled his head down at the same time until I could reach his lips with mine.

This wouldn’t have worked with another species. Another mind wouldn’t have been so easily overwhelmed by its body. Other species had their priorities in better order. But Ian was human, and his body responded.

I shoved my mouth against his, gripping his neck tighter with my arms when his first reaction was to hold me away. Remembering how his mouth had moved with mine before, I tried to mimic that movement now. His lips opened with mine, and I felt an odd thrill of triumph at my success. I caught his lower lip between my teeth and heard a low, wild sound break from his throat in surprise.

And then I didn’t have to try anymore. One of Ian’s hands trapped my face, while the other clamped around the small of my back, holding me so close that it was hard to pull a breath into my constricted chest. I was gasping, but so was he. His breath mingled with mine. I felt the stone wall touch my back, press against it. He used it to bind me even closer. There was no part of me that wasn’t fused to part of him.

It was just the two of us, so close that we hardly counted as two.

Just us.

No one else.

Alone.

Ian felt it when I gave up. He must have been waiting for this—not as entirely ruled by his body as I’d imagined. He eased back as soon as my arms went limp, but kept his face next to mine, the tip of his nose touching the tip of mine.

I dropped my arms, and he took a deep breath. Slowly, he loosened both his hands and then placed them lightly on my shoulders.

“Explain,” he said.

“She’s not here,” I whispered, still breathing in gasps. “I can’t find her. Not even now.”

“Melanie?”

“I can’t hear her! Ian, how can I go back in to Jamie? He’ll know that I’m lying! How can I tell him that I’ve lost his sister now? Ian, he’s sick! I can’t tell him that! I’ll upset him, make it harder for him to get well. I —”

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 —”

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