Home > The Host (The Host #1)(48)

The Host (The Host #1)(48)
Author: Stephenie Meyer

“Jeb,” Ian moaned above me, his voice muffled by the hand held to his mouth. “Jeb. This is insane.”

“What’s your plan?” Kyle demanded. His face was smeared with blood, a violent, macabre sight. But there was no evidence of pain in his voice, only controlled and simmering anger. “We have a right to know. We have to decide whether this place is safe or if it’s time to move on. So… how long will you keep this thing as your pet? What will you do with it when you’re finished playing God? All of us deserve to know the answers to these questions.”

Kyle’s extraordinary words echoed behind the pulse thudding in my head. Keep me as a pet? Jeb had called me his guest.… Was that another word for prisoner? Was it possible that two humans existed that did not demand either my death or my torture-wrung confession? If so, it was nothing less than a miracle.

“Don’t have your answers, Kyle,” Jeb said. “It’s not up to me.”

I doubted any other response Jeb could have given would have confused them more. All four men, Kyle, Ian, the one I didn’t know, and even Jared, stared at him with shock. I still crouched gasping at Ian’s feet, wishing there was some way I could climb back into my hole unnoticed.

“Not up to you?” Kyle finally echoed, still disbelieving. “Who, then? If you’re thinking of putting it to a vote, that’s already been done. Ian, Brandt, and I are the duly designated appointees of the result.”

Jeb shook his head—a tight movement that never took his eyes off the man in front of him. “It’s not up for a vote. This is still my house.”

“Who, then?” Kyle shouted.

Jeb’s eyes finally flickered—to another face and then back to Kyle. “It’s Jared’s decision.”

Everyone, me included, shifted their eyes to stare at Jared.

He gaped at Jeb, just as astonished as the rest, and then his teeth ground together with an audible sound. He threw a glare of pure hate in my direction.

“Jared?” Kyle asked, facing Jeb again. “That makes no sense!” He was not in control of himself now, almost spluttering in rage. “He’s more biased than anyone else! Why? How can he be rational about this?”

“Jeb, I don’t…” Jared muttered.

“She’s your responsibility, Jared,” Jeb said in a firm voice. “I’ll help you out, of course, if there’s any more trouble like this, and with keeping track of her and all that. But when it comes to making decisions, that’s all yours.” He raised one hand when Kyle tried to protest again. “Look at it this way, Kyle. If somebody found your Jodi on a raid and brought her back here, would you want me or Doc or a vote deciding what we did with her?”

“Jodi is dead,” Kyle hissed, blood spraying off his lips. He glared at me with much the same expression Jared had just used.

“Well, if her body wandered in here, it would still be up to you. Would you want it any other way?”

“The majority —”

“My house, my rules,” Jeb interrupted harshly. “No more discussion on this. No more votes. No more execution attempts. You three spread the word—this is how it works from now on. New rule.”

“Another one?” Ian muttered under his breath.

Jeb ignored him. “If, unlikely as it may be, somehow this ever happens again, whoever the body belongs to makes the call.” Jeb poked the barrel of the gun toward Kyle, then jerked it a few inches toward the hall behind him. “Get out of here. I don’t want to see you anywhere around this place again. You let everyone know that this corridor is off-limits. No one’s got any reason for being here except Jared, and if I catch someone skulking around, I’m asking questions second. You got that? Move. Now.” He jabbed the gun at Kyle again.

I was amazed that the three assassins immediately stalked back up the hallway, not even pausing to give me or Jeb a parting grimace.

I deeply wanted to believe that the gun in Jeb’s hands was a bluff.

From the first time I’d seen him, Jeb had shown every outward appearance of kindness. He had not touched me once in violence; he had not even looked at me with recognizable hostility. Now it seemed that he was one of only two people here who meant me no harm. Jared might have fought to keep me alive, but it was plain that he was intensely conflicted about that decision. I sensed that he could change his mind at any time. From his expression, it was clear that part of him wanted this over with—especially now that Jeb had put the decision on his shoulders. While I made this analysis, Jared glowered at me with disgust in every line of his expression.

However, as much as I wanted to believe that Jeb was bluffing, while I watched the three men disappear into the darkness away from me, it was obvious there was no way he could be. Under the front he presented, Jeb must have been just as deadly and cruel as the rest of them. If he hadn’t used that gun in the past—used it to kill, not just to threaten—no one would have obeyed him this way.

Desperate times, Melanie whispered. We can’t afford to be kind in the world you’ve created. We’re fugitives, an endangered species. Every choice is life-or-death.

Shh. I don’t have time for a debate. I need to focus.

Jared was facing Jeb now, one hand held out in front of him, palm up, fingers curled limply. Now that the others were gone, their bodies slumped into a looser stance. Jeb was even grinning under his thick beard, as though he’d enjoyed the standoff at gunpoint. Strange human.

“Please don’t put this on me, Jeb,” Jared said. “Kyle is right about one thing—I can’t make a rational decision.”

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