The Host (The Host #1)(200)

“We need to talk about this, Wanda. It’s not a done deal. It can’t be.”

“It is.”

He shook his head, clenching his teeth. “How long? How long have you been planning this?”

“Since the Seeker,” I whispered.

He nodded, seeming to expect this answer. “And you thought that you had to give up your secret to save her. I can understand that. But that doesn’t mean you have to go anywhere. Just because Doc knows now… that doesn’t mean anything. If I’d thought for one minute that it did, that one action equaled the other, I wouldn’t have stood there and let you show him. No one is going to force you to lie down on his blasted gurney! I’ll break his hands if he tries to touch you!”

“Ian, please.”

“They can’t make you, Wanda! Do you hear me?” He was shouting again.

“No one is making me. I didn’t show Doc how to do the separation so that I could save the Seeker,” I whispered. “The Seeker’s being here just made me have to decide… faster. I did it to save Mel, Ian.”

His nostrils flared, and he said nothing.

“She’s trapped in here, Ian. It’s like a prison—worse than that; I can’t even describe it. She’s like a ghost. And I can free her. I can give her herself back.”

“You deserve a life, too, Wanda. You deserve to stay.”

“But I love her, Ian.”

He closed his eyes, and his pale lips went dead white.

“But I love you,” he whispered. “Doesn’t that matter?”

“Of course it matters. So much. Can’t you see? That only makes it more… necessary.”

His eyes flashed open. “Is it so unbearable to have me love you? Is that it? I can keep my mouth shut, Wanda. I won’t say it again. You can be with Jared, if that’s what you want. Just stay.”

“No, Ian!” I took his face between my hands—his skin felt hard, strained tight over the bones. “No. I—I love you, too. Me, the little silver worm in the back of her head. But my body doesn’t love you. It can’t love you. I can never love you in this body, Ian. It pulls me in two. It’s unbearable.”

I could have borne it. But watching him suffer because of my body’s limitations? Not that.

He closed his eyes again. His thick black lashes were wet with tears. I could see them glisten.

Oh, go ahead, Mel sighed. Do whatever you need to. I’ll… step into the other room, she added dryly.

Thanks.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled myself closer to him until my lips touched his.

He curled his arms around me, pulling me tighter against his chest. Our lips moved together, fusing as if they would never divide, as if separation was not the inevitable thing it was, and I could taste the salt of our tears. His and mine.

Something began to change.

When Melanie’s body touched Jared’s body, it was like a wildfire—a fast burn that raced across the surface of the desert and consumed everything in its path.

With Ian it was different, so very different, because Melanie didn’t love him the way I did. So when he touched me, it was deeper and slower than the wildfire, like the flow of molten rock far beneath the surface of the earth. Too deep to feel the heat of it, but it moved inexorably, changing the very foundations of the world with its advance.

My unwilling body was a fog between us—a thick curtain, but gauzy enough that I could see through it, could see what was happening.

It changed me, not her. It was almost a metallurgical process deep inside the core of who I was, something that had already begun, was already nearly forged. But this long, unbroken kiss finished it, searing and sharp edged—it shoved this new creation, all hissing, into the cold water that made it hard and final. Unbreakable.

And I started to cry again, realizing that it must be changing him, too, this man who was kind enough to be a soul but strong as only a human could be.

He moved his lips to my eyes, but it was too late. It was done. “Don’t cry, Wanda. Don’t cry. You’re staying with me.”

“Eight full lives,” I whispered against his jaw, my voice breaking. “Eight full lives and I never found anyone I would stay on a planet for, anyone I would follow when they left. I never found a partner. Why now? Why you? You’re not of my species. How can you be my partner?”

“It’s a strange universe,” he murmured.

“It’s not fair,” I complained, echoing Sunny’s words. It wasn’t fair. How could I find this, find love—now, in this eleventh hour—and have to leave it? Was it fair that my soul and body couldn’t reconcile? Was it fair that I had to love Melanie, too?

Was it fair that Ian would suffer? He deserved happiness if anyone did. It wasn’t fair or right or even… sane. How could I do this to him?

“I love you,” I whispered.

“Don’t say that like you’re saying goodbye.”

But I had to. “I, the soul called Wanderer, love you, human Ian. And that will never change, no matter what I might become.” I worded it carefully, so that there would be no lie in my voice. “If I were a Dolphin or a Bear or a Flower, it wouldn’t matter. I would always love you, always remember you. You will be my only partner.”

His arms stiffened, then constricted tighter around me, and I could feel the anger in them again. It was hard to breathe.