The Host (The Host, #1)

by Stephenie Meyer

control? Is it aware of you? Are you trapped there, screaming inside?” I sat very still, trying to keep my face smooth. “Plainly, your memories and behaviors, all that is left behind. But your consciousness… Seems like some people wouldn’t go down without a fight. Hell, I know I would try to stay—never been one to take no for an answer, anyone will tell you that. I’m a fighter. All of us who are left are fighters. And, you know, I woulda pegged Mel for a fighter, too.” He didn’t move his eyes from the ceiling, but I looked at the floor—stared at it, memorizing the patterns in the purple gray dust. “Yeah, I’ve wondered about that a lot.” I could feel his eyes on me now, though my head was still down. I didn’t move, except to breathe slowly in and out. It took a great deal of effort to keep that slow rhythm smooth. I had to swallow; the blood was still flowing in my mouth. Why did we ever think he was crazy? Mel wondered. He sees everything. He’s a genius. He’s both. Well, maybe this means we don’t have to keep quiet anymore. He knows. She was hopeful. She’d been very quiet lately, absent almost half the time. It wasn’t as easy for her to concentrate when she was relatively happy. She’d won her big fight. She’d gotten us here. Her secrets were no longer in jeopardy; Jared and Jamie could never be betrayed by her memories. With the fight taken out