Riley sagged a little with relief. He took a deep breath, then another one. All right. He needed to calm down. This was going to escalate real quick if he kept yelling and the thing in him kept getting defensive. He was reasonably sure this wasn’t a nightmare of the scarily realistic kind, which meant there really was something in him. Something that could hurt him badly. Riley had no idea how to force it out, and it didn’t seem all that smart to antagonize something that was snuggled up to his vitals, especially since it claimed it couldn’t survive without him. So he closed his eyes, let his head fall forward, and tried to center himself despite the panic that was still tearing at him. He emptied his mind like his daddy had taught him to do when he needed to get clearheaded fast, but this time, there was someone right there with him and that someone apparently got nervous when Riley stopped thinking.

Riley? the thing—parasite, armor system, whatever—asked, almost timidly. What are you doing?

The hooks were back, giving Riley the mental image of a cat digging its claws into his leg to avoid getting unseated.

“I’m trying to calm down,” Riley told it. “Stop it with the clinging.”

The slight burning stopped immediately. Is it working? came the hopeful inquiry. ’Cause you promised you wouldn’t get upset.

“Well, I didn’t know there really was something in me.” Riley sighed and lifted his head again to study his eyes once more, but he didn’t see anything in them that didn’t belong. “I was bluffing. You scared the shit outta me.”

Yeah, right back atcha, the squatter muttered. It still sounded as though there was someone speaking in Riley’s ear, which was disconcerting to say the least. And stop calling me a squatter.

“You’re squatting. In my body. I’ll call you whatever the hell I want.”

Riley rubbed a hand over his face, trying to hang on to his hard-won composure. “Okay. Let’s talk about this.”

Not in front of the mirror, though; the empty space behind him was giving Riley the creeps. He went out into the main room, opened the curtains to let the afternoon sunlight flood in, and looked out over the mostly empty parking lot. The air was hazy with dust, the scrawny bushes outside bowing deep in the wind, but Riley barely noticed. He was staring down at his truck, parked in a corner near the emergency exit.

“You sabotaged my truck,” Riley gasped, a glimpse of memory raising his hackles. “You were all over the engine and then you jumped in my face, you fucker.”

I was about to start to disintegrate, his unwelcome houseguest defended itself. I needed a host. It was do or die.

“You couldn’t have asked?”

How? I need to be connected to communicate, and I didn’t speak your language yet. Riley opened his mouth to demand clarification, but the thing kept right on talking. You know, this hasn’t been fun for me, either, it said grouchily. I didn’t plan to hitch a ride in an alien.