Body Surfing

stupid .
    Yeah? Well, what is now the time to do?
    The bad guy is in the house, Jasper. Maybe we should get out of it .
    Jasper tiptoed to the nearest window, started to open it.
    Wait! Will it set off an alarm?
    Jasper jumped. Jesus! You don’t have to shout either . He looked at the window. I don’t see any sensors. Besides, Thomas opened the front door, and nothing happened. Q. must have turned off the system . He reached for the window again.
    Wait!
    What now?
    The book. You have to put it back. Otherwise, Thomas will know we know .
    Jesus , Jasper said again. He made his way back across the room.The book lay where he’d dropped it, still open to the photograph inside the back flap. The hundred-year-old picture stared up at him, the face unnaturally stiff, yet also possessing an eerily lifelike quality, as if it could open its mouth and speak. The photograph was captioned “Jordan David (1864–1919) at his Thousand Islands summer home,” but the parenthetical remark failed to take into account the fact that the 150-year-old author of The City of Frozen Souls was in the Qusays’ front hall.
    Jasper peered at the picture, desperate to convince himself he was wrong. But though the man in the photograph lacked Thomas’s spectacles, and the hair that protruded from his tophat was longer and curlier than what the doctor wore now, it was unmistakably him.
    I don’t get it , Michaela said. Does he want to get caught?
    Well, we don’t know that David was possessed when he wrote this book. It could have happened after .
    But it’s a reprint . Michaela tried to reach for the book, but she didn’t control her arms, and Jasper had to do it for her. Look: 1997. Thomas put this picture on himself .
    It’s “The Purloined Letter,” isn’t it? Hiding in plain sight? And besides, who would believe it? They’d just call it an uncanny resemblance .
    Whatever. We’ll figure it out later. Just put it away and let’s get the hell out of here .
    Jasper slipped the book on the shelf, went back to the window. The sash stuck, and he had to wiggle it. It squeaked slightly as it went up.
    Sshh!
    Not helping , Jasper said. He hoisted one leg over the window and dropped as quietly as he could to the grass outside. He looked up to see if he could close the window, but it was too high. He turned, wondering if he should head for road or river.
    “Going somewhere, Jasper?”
    Jasper whirled around. J.D. Thomas stood on the lawn before him. He wore the same clothes he’d had on in the accident, ripped and soiled with blood, and yet he still managed to look completely composed.
    Jasper! Michaela shrieked in his head. It’s him!
    Still not helping , Jasper said, trying not to wince.
    Thomas squinted.
    “Is Michaela there too? My goodness, only your third host and already you’re experimenting with peaceful coexistence. How enlightened of you.”
    Jasper remembered how Thomas’s scalp had been ripped open, the bone glinting through shredded tissue. Now there was only the faintest of seams along the doctor’s hairline, and his neck, which had been so hideously elongated, was as straight and solid as a tree trunk. He’d even retied his tie. Compared to what Leo had done to Larry or Michaela, this was Superman stuff.
    He began backing away. Thomas watched him, unconcerned.
    “It won’t work, you know.”
    “What?” Jasper said guardedly. “Running? Or peaceful coexistence?” He continued to back away, his eyes darting around for the best escape route or something to use as a weapon.
    “Your consciousness is simply too strong for hers. You’ll crush it whether you want to or not. It will start the first time you go to sleep. You’ll wake up, and Michaela will seem like a dream. She might be able to claw her way back, but after a few days she’ll be no different from Jarhead and Larry. Just another set of memories, a few urges toward this or that predilection. Soon enough the need to jump will become overwhelming, and then, well, she’ll be left to pick up the pieces.”
    I do not have predilections!
    Jasper smiled.
    “Michaela says to fuck off.”
    “Michaela should watch her mouth,” Thomas said in an even voice, “before I cut her tongue out. And just in case you’re wondering, Jasper, no, you can’t grow her another. Regeneration, sadly, is one power the Mogran do not possess.”
    Jasper! Why aren’t you running!
    But Jasper didn’t run. Not yet.
    “I don’t understand. If you’re Mogran, why would you