The Host_ A Novel - Stephenie Meyer [57]
I wasn’t able to stop her fast enough.
She lurched forward, raising my arms to reach out for him. I screamed a warning at her in my head, but she wasn’t listening to me. She was barely aware that I was even there.
No one tried to stop her as she staggered toward him. No one but me. She was within inches of touching him, and still she didn’t see what I saw. She didn’t see how his face had changed in the long months of separation, how it had hardened, how the lines pulled in different directions now. She didn’t see that the unconscious smile she remembered would not physically fit on this new face. Only once had she seen his face turn dark and dangerous, and that expression was nothing to the one he wore now. She didn’t see, or maybe she didn’t care.
His reach was longer than mine.
Before Melanie could make my fingers touch him, his arm shot out and the back of his hand smashed into the side of my face. The blow was so hard that my feet left the ground before my head slammed into the rock floor. I heard the rest of my body hit the floor with dull thumps, but I didn’t feel it. My eyes rolled back in my head, and a ringing sound shimmered in my ears. I fought the dizziness that threatened to spin me unconscious.
Stupid, stupid, I whimpered at her. I told you not to do that!
Jared’s here, Jared’s alive, Jared’s here. She was incoherent, chanting the words like they were lyrics to a song.
I tried to focus my eyes, but the strange ceiling was blinding. I twisted my head away from the light and then swallowed a sob as the motion sent daggers of agony through the side of my face.
I could barely handle the pain of this one spontaneous blow. What hope did I have of enduring an intensive, calculated onslaught?
There was a shuffle of feet beside me; my eyes moved instinctively to find the threat, and I saw Uncle Jeb standing over me. He had one hand half stretched out toward me, but he hesitated, looking away. I raised my head an inch, stifling another moan, to see what he saw.
Jared was walking toward us, and his face was the same as those of the barbarians in the desert-only it was beautiful rather than frightening in its fury. My heart faltered and then beat unevenly, and I wanted to laugh at myself. Did it matter that he was beautiful, that I loved him, when he was going to kill me?
I stared at the murder in his expression and tried to hope that rage would win out over expediency, but a true death wish evaded me.
Jeb and Jared locked eyes for a long moment. Jared’s jaw clenched and unclenched, but Jeb’s face was calm. The silent confrontation ended when Jared suddenly exhaled in an angry gust and took a step back.
Jeb reached down for my hand and put his other arm around my back to pull me up. My head whirled and ached; my stomach heaved. If it hadn’t been empty for days, I might have thrown up. It was like my feet weren’t touching the ground. I wobbled and pitched forward. Jeb steadied me and then gripped my elbow to keep me standing.
Jared watched all this with a teeth-baring grimace. Like an idiot, Melanie struggled to move toward him again. But I was over the shock of seeing him here and less stupid than she was now. She wouldn’t break through again. I locked her away behind every bar I could create in my head.
Just be quiet. Can’t you see how he loathes me? Anything you say will make it worse. We’re dead.
But Jared’s alive, Jared’s here, she crooned.
The quiet in the cavern dissolved; whispers came from every side, all at the same time, as if I’d missed some cue. I couldn’t make out any meanings in the hissing murmurs.
My eyes darted around the mob of humans-every one of them an adult, no smaller, younger figure among them. My heart ached at the absence, and Melanie fought to voice the question. I hushed her firmly. There wasn’t anything to see here, nothing but anger and hatred on strangers’ faces, or the anger and hatred on Jared’s face.
Until another man pushed his way through the whispering throng. He was built slim and tall, his skeletal structure more obvious under his