The Host (The Host #1)

“Where did your kind begin?” Doc asked. “Do you remember? I mean, as a species, do you know how you evolved?”


“The Origin,” I answered, nodding. “We still live there. It’s where I was… born.”

“That’s kind of special,” Jamie added. “It’s rare to meet someone from the Origin, isn’t it? Most souls try to stay there, right, Wanda?” He didn’t wait for my response. I was beginning to regret answering his questions so thoroughly each night. “So when someone moves on, it makes them almost… like a celebrity? Or like a member of a royal family.”

I could feel my cheeks getting warm.

“It’s a cool place,” Jamie went on. “Lots of clouds, with a bunch of different-colored layers. It’s the only planet where the souls can live outside of a host for very long. The hosts on the Origin planet are really pretty, too, with sort of wings and lots of tentacles and big silver eyes.”

Doc was leaning forward with his face in his hands. “Do they remember how the host-parasite relationship was formed? How did the colonization begin?”

Jamie looked at me, shrugging.

“We were always that way,” I answered slowly, still unwilling. “As far back as we were intelligent enough to know ourselves, at least. We were discovered by another species—the Vultures, we call them here, though more for their personalities than for their looks. They were… not kind. Then we discovered that we could bond with them just as we had with our original hosts. Once we controlled them, we made use of their technology. We took their planet first, and then followed them to the Dragon Planet and the Summer World—lovely places where the Vultures had also not been kind. We started colonizing; our hosts reproduced so much slower than we did, and their life spans were short. We began exploring farther into the universe.…”

I trailed off, conscious of the many eyes on my face. Only Sharon continued to look away.

“You speak of it almost as if you were there,” Ian noted quietly. “How long ago did this happen?”

“After dinosaurs lived here but before you did. I was not there, but I remember some of what my mother’s mother’s mother remembered of it.”

“How old are you?” Ian asked, leaning toward me, his brilliant blue eyes penetrating.

“I don’t know in Earth years.”

“An estimate?” he pressed.

“Thousands of years, maybe.” I shrugged. “I lose track of the years spent in hibernation.”

Ian leaned back, stunned.

“Wow, that’s old,” Jamie breathed.

“But in a very real sense, I’m younger than you,” I murmured to him. “Not even a year old. I feel like a child all the time.”

Jamie’s lips pulled up slightly at the corners. He liked the idea of being more mature than I was.

“What’s the aging process for your kind?” Doc asked. “The natural life span?”

“We don’t have one,” I told him. “As long as we have a healthy host, we can live forever.”

A low murmur—angry? frightened? disgusted? I couldn’t tell—swirled around the edges of the cave. I saw that my answer had been unwise; I understood what these words would mean to them.

“Beautiful.” The low, furious word came from Sharon’s direction, but she hadn’t turned.

Jamie squeezed my hand, seeing again in my eyes the desire to bolt. This time I gently pulled my hand free.

“I’m not hungry anymore,” I whispered, though my bread sat barely touched on the counter beside me. I hopped down and, hugging the wall, made my escape.

Jamie followed right behind me. He caught up to me in the big garden plaza and handed me the remains of my bread.

“It was real interesting, honest,” he told me. “I don’t think anyone’s too upset.”

“Jeb put Doc up to this, didn’t he?”

“You tell good stories. Once everyone knows that, they’ll want to hear them. Just like me and Jeb.”

“What if I don’t want to tell them?”

Jamie frowned. “Well, I guess then… you shouldn’t. But it seems like you don’t mind telling me stories.”

“That’s different. You like me.” I could have said, You don’t want to kill me, but the implications would have upset him.

“Once people get to know you, they’ll all like you. Ian and Doc do.”

“Ian and Doc do not like me, Jamie. They’re just morbidly curious.”

“Do so.”

“Ugh,” I groaned. We were to our room by now. I shoved the screen aside and threw myself onto the mattress. Jamie sat down less forcefully beside me and looped his arms around his knees.

“Don’t be mad,” he pleaded. “Jeb means well.”

I groaned again.

“It won’t be so bad.”

“Doc’s going to do this every time I go in the kitchen, isn’t he?”

Jamie nodded sheepishly. “Or Ian. Or Jeb.”

“Or you.”

“We all want to know.”

I sighed and rolled onto my stomach. “Does Jeb have to get his way every single time?”

Jamie thought for a moment, then nodded. “Pretty much, yeah.”