The Host (The Host #1)(178)

I stretched my arms out as far as they would go, tugging against the tendons until some of my joints cracked. My arms felt strong. They could pull me up a mountainside, they could carry a heavy load, they could plow a field. But they were also soft. They could hold a child, they could comfort a friend, they could love… but that was not for me.

I took a deep breath, and tears welled out of the corners of my eyes and rolled down my temples into my hair.

I tensed the muscles in my legs, felt their ready strength and speed. I wanted to run, to have an open field that I could race across just to see how fast I could go. I wanted to do this barefoot, so I could feel the earth beneath my feet. I wanted to feel the wind fly through my hair. I wanted it to rain, so that I could smell it in the air as I ran.

My feet flexed and pointed slowly, to the rhythm of my breathing. In and out. Flex and point. It felt nice.

I traced my face with my fingertips. They were warm on my skin, skin that was smooth and pretty. I was glad I was giving Melanie her face back the way it had been. I closed my eyes and stroked my eyelids.

I’d lived in so many bodies, but never one I loved like this. Never one that I craved in this way. Of course, this would be the one I’d have to give up.

The irony made me laugh, and I concentrated on the feel of the air that popped in little bubbles from my chest and up through my throat. Laughter was like a fresh breeze—it cleaned its way through the body, making everything feel good. Did other species have such a simple healer? I couldn’t remember one.

I touched my lips and remembered how it felt to kiss Jared, and how it felt to kiss Ian. Not everyone got to kiss so many other beautiful bodies. I’d had more than some, even in this short time.

It was just so short! Maybe a year now, I wasn’t completely sure. Just one quick revolution of a blue green planet around an unexceptional yellow star. The shortest life of any I’d ever lived.

The shortest, the most important, the most heartbreaking of lives. The life that would forever define me. The life that had finally tied me to one star, to one planet, to one small family of strangers.

A little more time… would that be so wrong?

No, Mel whispered. Just take a little more time.

You never know how much time you’ll have, I whispered back.

But I did. I knew exactly how much time I had. I couldn’t take any more time. My time was up.

I was going anyway. I had to do the right thing, be my true self, with what time I had left.

With a sigh that seemed to come all the way from the soles of my feet and the palms of my hands, I got up.

Aaron and Brandt wouldn’t wait forever. And now I had a few more questions that I needed answered. This time, the questions were for Doc.

The caves were full of sad, cast-down eyes. It was easy enough to slip unobtrusively past them all. No one cared what I was doing right now, except maybe Jeb, Brandt, and Aaron, and they weren’t here.

I didn’t have an open, rainy field, but at least I had the long south tunnel. It was too dark to run flat out the way I wanted, but I kept up a steady jog. It felt good as my muscles warmed.

I expected I would find Doc already there, but I’d wait if I had to. He would be alone. Poor Doc, that was usually the case now.

Doc had been sleeping alone in his hospital since the night we’d saved Jamie’s life. Sharon had taken her things from their room and moved them to her mother’s, and Doc wouldn’t sleep in the empty room.

Such a great hatred. Sharon would rather kill her own happiness, and Doc’s, too, than forgive him for helping me heal Jamie.

Sharon and Maggie were barely a presence in the caves anymore. They looked past everyone now, the way they used to look past only me. I wondered if that would change when I was gone, or if they were both so rigid in their grudge that it would be too late for them to change.

What an extraordinarily stupid way to waste time.

For the first time ever, the south tunnel felt short. Before I thought I’d gone halfway, I could see Doc’s light glowing dimly from the rough arch ahead. He was home.

I slowed myself to a walk before I interrupted him. I didn’t want to scare him, to make him think there was an emergency.

He was still startled when I appeared, a little breathless, in the stone doorway.

He jumped up from behind his desk. The book he was reading fell out of his hands.

“Wanda? Is something wrong?”

“No, Doc,” I reassured him. “Everything’s fine.”

“Does someone need me?”

“Just me.” I gave him a weak smile.

He walked around his desk to meet me, his eyes wide with curiosity. He paused half a step away and raised one eyebrow.

His long face was gentle, the opposite of alarming. It was hard to remember how he’d looked like a monster to me before.

“You are a man of your word,” I began.

He nodded and opened his mouth to speak, but I held one hand up.

“No one will ever test that more than I will test it now,” I warned him.

He waited, eyes confused and wary.

I took a deep breath, felt it expand my lungs.

“I know how to do what you’ve been ending so many lives to discover. I know how to take the souls from your bodies without harm to either. Of course I know that. We all have to, in case of an emergency. I even performed the emergency procedure once, when I was a Bear.”