“He?” The Seeker pounced on the pronoun. “Who?”
The black wall slammed down with more force than she’d used before. She was the tiniest fraction of a second too late.
Again, the face filled my mind. The beautiful face with the golden tan skin and the light-flecked eyes. The face that stirred a strange, deep pleasure within me while I viewed it so clearly in my mind.
Though the wall slapped into place with an accompanying sensation of vicious resentment, it was not fast enough.
“Jared,” I answered. As quickly as if it had come from me, the thought that was not mine followed the name through my lips. “Jared is safe.”
CHAPTER 4
Dreamed
It is too dark to be so hot, or maybe too hot to be so dark. One of the two is out of place.
I crouch in the darkness behind the weak protection of a scrubby creosote bush, sweating out all the water left in my body. It’s been fifteen minutes since the car left the garage. No lights have come on. The arcadia door is open two inches, letting the swamp cooler do its job. I can imagine the feel of the moist, cool air blowing through the screen. I wish it could reach me here.
My stomach gurgles, and I clench my abdominal muscles to stifle the sound. It is quiet enough that the murmur carries.
I am so hungry.
There is another need that is stronger—another hungry stomach hidden safely far away in the darkness, waiting alone in the rough cave that is our temporary home. A cramped place, jagged with volcanic rock. What will he do if I don’t come back? All the pressure of motherhood with none of the knowledge or experience. I feel so hideously helpless. Jamie is hungry.
There are no other houses close to this one. I’ve been watching since the sun was still white hot in the sky, and I don’t think there is a dog, either.
I ease up from my crouch, my calves screaming in protest, but keep hunched at the waist, trying to be smaller than the bush. The way up the wash is smooth sand, a pale pathway in the light of the stars. There are no sounds of cars on the road.
I know what they will realize when they return, the monsters who look like a nice couple in their early fifties. They will know exactly what I am, and the search will begin at once. I need to be far away. I really hope they are going out for a night on the town. I think it’s Friday. They keep our habits so perfectly, it’s hard to see any difference. Which is how they won in the first place.
The fence around the yard is only waist high. I get over easily, noiselessly. The yard is gravel, though, and I have to walk carefully to keep my weight from shifting it. I make it to the patio slab.
The blinds are open. The starlight is enough to see that the rooms are empty of movement. This couple goes for a spartan look, and I’m grateful. It makes it harder for someone to hide. Of course, that leaves no place for me to hide, either, but if it comes to hiding for me, it’s too late anyway.
I ease the screen door open first, and then the glass door. Both glide silently. I place my feet carefully on the tile, but this is just out of habit. No one is waiting for me here.
The cool air feels like heaven.
The kitchen is to my left. I can see the gleam of granite counters.
I pull the canvas bag from my shoulder and start with the refrigerator. There is a moment of anxiety as the light comes on when the door opens, but I find the button and hold it down with my toe. My eyes are blind. I don’t have time to let them adjust. I go by feel.
Milk, cheese slices, leftovers in a plastic bowl. I hope it’s the chicken-and-rice thing I watched him cooking for dinner. We’ll eat this tonight.
Juice, a bag of apples. Baby carrots. These will stay good till morning.
I hurry to the pantry. I need things that will keep longer.
I can see better as I gather as much as I can carry. Mmm, chocolate chip cookies. I’m dying to open the bag right now, but I grit my teeth and ignore the twist of my empty stomach.
The bag gets heavy too quickly. This will last us only a week, even if we’re careful with it. And I don’t feel like being careful; I feel like gorging. I shove granola bars into my pockets.
One more thing. I hurry to the sink and refill my canteen. Then I put my head under the flow and gulp straight from the stream. The water makes odd noises when it hits my hollow stomach.
I start to feel panicked now that my job is done. I want to be out of here. Civilization is deadly.
I watch the floor on my way out, worried about tripping with my heavy bag, which is why I don’t see the silhouetted black figure on the patio until my hand is on the door.
I hear his mumbled oath at the same time that a stupid squeak of fear escapes my mouth. I spin to sprint for the front door, hoping the locks are not latched, or at least not difficult.
I don’t even get two steps before rough, hard hands grab my shoulders and wrench me back against his body. Too big, too strong to be a woman. The bass voice proves me right.
“One sound and you die,” he threatens gruffly. I am shocked to feel a thin, sharp edge pushing into the skin under my jaw.
I don’t understand. I shouldn’t be given a choice. Who is this monster? I’ve never heard of one who would break rules. I answer the only way I can.
“Do it,” I spit through my teeth. “Just do it. I don’t want to be a filthy parasite!”
I wait for the knife, and my heart is aching. Each beat has a name. Jamie, Jamie, Jamie. What will happen to you now?
“Clever,” the man mutters, and it doesn’t sound like he’s speaking to me. “Must be a Seeker. And that means a trap. How did they know?” The steel disappears from my throat, only to be replaced by a hand as hard as iron.