Borne (Borne, #1)

by Jeff VanderMeer

The drug was the first thing Wick offered me when I met him, and the first thing I refused, sensing a trap even when it seemed like an escape.

Wick’s hazel-green eyes had grown larger, more empathic in that shrunken face as he pondered the puzzle of what I had brought to him. Those eyes saw everything, except, perhaps, how I saw him.

but this was always the test of our relationship. Were we symbiotic or parasitic?

Remembering a creature he’d created, Wick had said, “He was born, but I had borne him.”

That was the moment I knew I’d decided to trade my safety for something else. That was the moment. And no matter what happened next, I had crossed over into another place, and the question wasn’t who I should trust but who should trust me.