Home > The Host (The Host #1)(157)

The Host (The Host #1)(157)
Author: Stephenie Meyer

The shimmering circle seemed to widen, enveloping the entire late-night supper party, making them family, too. Everyone waited contentedly for Jeb to prepare the unexpected treats, in no hurry. Fear had been replaced by relief and happy news. Even Kyle, compressed into the small space on the other side of his brother, was not unwelcome in the circle.

Melanie sighed in contentment. She was vibrantly aware of the warmth of the boy in my lap and the touch of the man who still stroked his hand against my arm. She wasn’t even upset by Ian’s arm around my shoulders.

You’re feeling the No Pain, too, I teased her.

I don’t think it’s the No Pain. Not for either of us.

No, you’re right. This is more than I’ve ever had.

This is so much of what I lost.

What was it that made this human love so much more desirable to me than the love of my own kind? Was it because it was exclusive and capricious? The souls offered love and acceptance to all. Did I crave a greater challenge? This love was tricky; it had no hard-and-fast rules—it might be given for free, as with Jamie, or earned through time and hard work, as with Ian, or completely and heartbreakingly unattainable, as with Jared.

Or was it simply better somehow? Because these humans could hate with so much fury, was the other end of the spectrum that they could love with more heart and zeal and fire?

I didn’t know why I had yearned after it so desperately. All I knew was that, now that I had it, it was worth every ounce of risk and agony it had cost. It was better than I’d imagined.

It was everything.

By the time the food was prepared and consumed, the late—or rather early—hour had gotten to us all. People stumbled out of the crowded room toward their beds. As they left, there was more space.

Those remaining slouched down where we were as room became available. Gradually, we melted in place until we were horizontal. My head ended up pillowed on Jared’s stomach; his hand stroked my hair now and then. Jamie’s face was against my chest, and his arms were around my neck. One of my arms wrapped around his shoulders. Ian’s head was cushioned on my stomach, and he held my other hand to his face. I could feel Doc’s long leg stretched beside mine, his shoe by my hip. Doc was asleep—I could hear him snoring. I may have even been touching Kyle somewhere.

Jeb was sprawled on the bed. He belched, and Kyle chuckled.

“Nicer night than I was plannin’ for. I like it when pessimism goes unrewarded,” Jeb mused. “Thanks, Wanda.”

“Mmm,” I sighed, half asleep.

“Next time she raids…” Kyle said, somewhere on the other side of Jared’s body. A big yawn interrupted his sentence. “Next time she raids, I’m coming, too.”

“She’s not going out again,” Ian answered, his body tensing. I brushed my hand against his face, trying to soothe him.

“Of course not,” I murmured to him. “I don’t have to go anywhere unless I’m needed. I don’t mind staying in here.”

“I’m not talking about keeping you prisoner, Wanda,” Ian explained, irritated. “You can go anywhere you want as far as I’m concerned. Jogging on the highway, if you’d like that. But not a raid. I’m talking about keeping you safe.”

“We need her,” Jared said, his voice harder than I wanted to hear it.

“We got by fine without her before.”

“Fine? Jamie would have died without her. She can get things for us that no one else can.”

“She’s a person, Jared, not a tool.”

“I know that. I didn’t say that —”

“’S up to Wanda, I’d say.” Jeb interrupted the argument just as I was about to. My hand was holding Ian down now, and I could feel Jared’s body shifting under my head as he prepared to get up. Jeb’s words froze them in place.

“You can’t leave it up to her, Jeb,” Ian protested.

“Why not? Seems like she’s got her own mind. ’S it your job to make decisions for her?”

“I’ll tell you why not,” Ian grumbled. “Wanda?”

“Yes, Ian?”

“Do you want to go out on raids?”

“If I can help, of course I should go.”

“That’s not what I asked, Wanda.”

I was quiet for a moment, trying to remember his question to see how I’d gotten it wrong.

“See, Jeb? She never takes into account her own wants—her own happiness, her own health, even. She’d do anything we asked her to, even if it got her killed. It’s not fair to ask her things the way we’d ask each other. We stop to think about ourselves. She doesn’t.”

It was quiet. No one answered Ian. The silence dragged on until I felt compelled to speak for myself.

“That’s not true,” I said. “I think about myself all the time. And I… I want to help. Doesn’t that count? It made me so happy to help Jamie tonight. Can’t I find happiness the way I want to?”

Ian sighed. “See what I mean?”

“Well, I can’t tell her she can’t go if she wants to,” Jeb said. “She’s not a prisoner anymore.”

“But we don’t have to ask.”

Jared was very quiet through all this. Jamie was quiet, too, but I was pretty sure he was asleep. I knew Jared wasn’t; his hand was tracing random patterns on the side of my face. Glowing, burning patterns.

“You don’t need to ask,” I said. “I volunteer. It really wasn’t… frightening. Not at all. The other souls are very kind. I’m not afraid of them. It was almost too easy.”

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