Possession (23 page)

Almost.

“Jag, I—”

“It’s fine, babe. We’re only kissing. It’s fine.”

And everything was fine. Kissing him was more than fine. Life was absolutely fine. Everything would always be blissfully fine . . .

The knowledge that he’d used his voice slammed into me like a heavy weight. I tried to sit up and pull my T-shirt down
at the same time. “You’re controlling me. It’s not fine.”

“Violet,” he said, his eyes locked on mine now. “Vi, baby.” His voice was soft, but not controlling. “I did promise, sorry.”

“I don’t want, well—” I clamped my mouth shut before I said anything too embarrassing.

He stood up and retrieved a new T-shirt. “Here. That shirt should be burned,” he said, glancing pointedly at the one I had on. “I’ll wait for you in the canyon.”

I nodded, unable to speak. I checked to make sure he was really gone and then I changed. The cool air felt good on my arms, but nothing compared to how Jag’s mouth had felt on my neck or my ear or my lips—

Jag laughed from wherever he waited.
Stupid mind-reading hormone-driven boy.
I hoped he heard that. I didn’t care what he said—he could read a lot more than feelings.

He wore a clean shirt when I reached him. He chuckled again and slid his arm around my waist. “You ready? We have like, two weeks of walking ahead of us.”

“I hate that you can feel what I feel,” I complained. “Really, really hate it.”

“I can stop. If you want.”

“Yes, please.” But I could tell he didn’t want to.

His face fell and he started to remove his arm.

“No. No, it’s okay,” I said, taking his hand and replacing it on my hip. “It’s fine, babe. Fine.”

“You almost sounded like me right then!” He laughed, a clear sound that carried through the twilight.

I punched him and his laughter ended in an “Oof!”

“Don’t control me again.”

A little while later, Jag stopped walking and studied the starry sky. “We’re adults now. Officially.”

“Great,” I said. Like it really mattered. So now I could get a job. Big deal.

“There are stricter punishments for adults,” Jag said.

That brought a hollow feeling to my stomach. He took my hand and pulled me forward again. The silence rained down while I imagined what the Association might do to me now that I was of age.

I stopped walking. “Jag, what’s going to happen when we get to Seaside?”

The moonlight emphasized the tension in his mouth. “Well, there’s some protection with Gavin. But I don’t know what Thane, uh, your dad, will do. The Association has pull everywhere, even if it’s less in the oceanic region. And they want us.” He moved forward again, but I stayed put.

“Do you know Gavin?”

“Course, she’s Pace’s girlfriend.”

“What can she offer me?”

“I don’t know.”

“Liar. You never tell me anything.”

“No, seriously. Every case is different.” Jag threaded his fingers through mine. “Besides, you never told me why you went to see Pace or how you took out ten Greenies by yourself. You have secrets of your own.”

“They’re not secrets,” I argued, striding forward. “You never asked. You’re too busy being pissed off—or kissing me.”

“Which would you like right now? ’Cause I could go either way.” Danger lurked in his voice.

I stopped suddenly and grabbed his arm. I kissed him in the hormonal-Vi style. When he pulled away, I said, “I’ll tell you if you promise not to get so pissy about things.”

“That’s a two-way street, Vi.”

I kissed him again, tracing my fingers along his neck and into his hair. “Is it?”

“No,” he breathed. “No, it’s not.” We kissed some more, his hands tightening along my waist.

“So you’ll be nicer?” I whispered.

“Yes, absolutely.”

“Good.” I pulled away and strung my fingers through his. We walked for a few minutes before he spoke.

“You’re really not fair,” he said, his voice wounded. “If I
can’t control you, you shouldn’t be able to control me.”

I giggled. Yes, giggled. “I didn’t use my mind power on you. Just my body.”

“That’s twice as deadly.”

As we walked, I told Jag about the message from Zenn’s kiss, and he got all mad, like I’d known he would.

“You already promised.”

“Kiss me again so I can remember.”

“Nice try.”

“Fine. Then I’m still mad.”

“Listen, Jag. It’s not like I cheated on you or anything. I don’t understand why you’re so jealous of him.”

He looked at me, his gaze heavier than the darkness. “Vi, I can still feel your feelings for him. You’ve loved him for a long time. That doesn’t disappear overnight. Even though he gave you that sticker, you’d go back right now and save him if you could.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but he cut me off. “Don’t. I can
feel
it. He’s being controlled in the worst way and you want to help him. Because he’s exactly like you. He stopped listening to the transmissions a long time ago too. He shielded you from some of the hardest things and comforted you during the worst times of your life. Those memories will
never
go
away. You’ve loved him for five years, but you’ve only known me for like, a week.”

I couldn’t argue. Zenn had been my whole life. In many ways, he still was.

“More than a week,” I said, just to be difficult.

Jag’s grip on my hand tightened. “Fine. Two weeks.”

I told him about sneaking into the lab after the e-comm from Baldie. Then I told him about dodging through the trees and as much of the Greenie’s conversation as I could remember. I ended with how I controlled the five men so they would tase the women.

“Wow,” he said.

“Yeah, men are pretty easy to control.”

He slugged me in the shoulder. Like with his fist and everything. I hit him right back. Somehow we ended up holding hands afterward. Go figure.

“So Pace was beaming in to see you, huh?” I asked, with a heavy dose of
you-better-spill-your-secrets-too
thrown in.

“A couple of times. He had clearance.”

“From who?”

Jag shrugged with one shoulder. “That bald guy, I think.”

“That guy helped me get into the lab too. He said he was on my side. Do you think—well, how could he be helping
us?” I watched Jag’s face, but he kept his gaze on the horizon.

“Everyone has spies, babe.”

“What does that mean?”

“Sometimes those who appear good are just pretending. I mean, look at you.”

I thought about what he said. “My dad wasn’t pretending.”

“No, he was not.” Jag spoke so softly, I barely heard him. After that, we walked in silence, the midnight sky surrounding us in cool air. My sunburned arms convinced me that traveling at night really was best.

We walked so much that when I slept during the day, I dreamt about walking. At least the tech-cube kept producing whatever we wanted to eat, and besides what came from what we carried, the air in the demilitarized zone didn’t hold an ounce of techtricity.

Night after night, we trudged along, Jag regarding the stars while I wrestled with myself over who my dad was, with who I was.

With what my duty was.

Who I should follow.

If I should follow anyone at all. Maybe my brand of control would benefit people more than my dad’s. Powers like mine could be used for good. Curing diseases. Purifying water.

I didn’t want to take away the little things, the traits that made people unique, in order to provide that kind of life.

I’d seen Zenn at the facility. He wasn’t himself. And that wasn’t fair at all. I wondered that maybe if I joined Dad, he’d relax a little bit. Together, we could still work for the common good, but we wouldn’t have to erase personalities to do it.

I’d almost have myself convinced of this golden future with my dad when I’d remember the loathing in his eyes.

Then I’d have to start all over again. I never found any answers, no matter how many different ways I looked at the situation. No matter how many stars I wished on.

“How much further?” I complained again the tenth night.

“Soon, Vi.” Jag laughed and pulled me close. “Patience.”

Yeah, I don’t have much of that.

When the sun came up, my heart rose with it. The ocean loomed in front of me. I’d never seen so much water at once. It called to me, encouraged me to come closer. To touch it as it lapped at the earth. To taste the saltiness of it in my mouth.

A great city at least the size of the Southern Rim sat along the blue expanse.

Suddenly my throat tightened, my heart constricted. A presence—an incredibly strong and all-too-familiar presence—invaded my mind.

Somehow “Dad” escaped my throat.

“Dammit.” Jag pulled me down an embankment to a ditch. “Now what?”

I dropped to the ground next to him, as if I could hide my mind from my dad that way. “He’s here . . . somewhere.” I closed my eyes, trying to find Dad without inserting myself into his head. “Let’s sneak around to the north.”

Using the demilitarized zone was clever, V. Where are you going now?
The way he called me V made my heart twist. How I’d longed to hear that. Now it only sickened me. I quickly forced him from my mind.

Jag gripped my hand, and together we stood. “Let’s go.”

As we ran I struggled to push the fear to the back of my
mind, the same way I kept pushing the sweat off my forehead. It mingled with the dirt, creating mud that stung the corners of my eyes.

Then I couldn’t see at all. “Jag! Tech!” I dropped to my knees, hoping to find cover from the unknown danger in the low bushes.

“Get your phone,” Jag whispered from beside me. His beeped as he activated it, but I fumbled for my pocket, my vision still cloudy.

“Holy overload.” My eyes streamed. My stomach boiled.

“Viii,” he said, drawing out my name dangerously. “Who are they?”

I gave up the search for my phone and focused. “There’re two people. Both men. Rangers. They can sense our tech.”

“Rangers?”

Their minds . . . their minds were clear. Sharp. Uncontrolled. And focused on harnessing the power of the earth. “Definitely rangers.”

Jag didn’t move, didn’t breathe. Then his fingers fumbled over mine and he pulled me to my feet.

“Jag?” The man who spoke had a deep voice. I couldn’t physically see him, but his name floated through my mind:
Mark Kellogg.

Surprise flitted across Mark’s subconscious. He shifted
nervously while the other guy—his younger brother Jake—came up beside him. They both radiated advanced tech energy, and they wanted ours.

“We need to see Gavin.” Jag’s voice sounded odd, too breathy or something. He was afraid, and that terrified me.

“Everything’s gone to hell,” Mark said. “Some heavies arrived from the Association. Gavin is in a special session, and no outsiders are permitted to enter the city.”

His words pierced the balloon of hope I’d been cultivating. “No outsiders?” I whispered.

Jag squeezed my hand, and I stifled a whimper of pain. Thankfully, my vision began to clear as I acclimated to the tech, but damn, that tag ached under Jag’s viselike grip.

“We need to see her,” Jag said, the fear gone. “Take us to her.” His voice could command armies. Mark’s mind turned to mush.

“Sure, she’ll be done by lunch. Let’s go.” He’d have done anything Jag said. Hell, I would’ve taken Jag to Gavin.

The brothers moved toward the scrub forest. Jag bent down to retrieve his bag, and we exchanged a glance. I didn’t like what I saw on his face: worry.

We caught up to the rangers and Jag made small talk with them. I moved in silence, a ball of anxiety growing in my stomach.

As we walked, the sun peeked over the horizon, and the first rays nipped at my healing-but-still-burnt face. The scrub forest gave way to towering trees. They were huge, and I mean like they-stretch-so-far-I-can’t-see-the-tops-of-them huge.

Legends about tall trees had been passed around the Goodgrounds, especially in the City of Water, where the only forests grew. Old land and ancient trees supposedly harbored power beyond our tech. I felt a sense of peace and awe walking through the old trees, almost like they understood me.

“. . . yeah, that’s a good one!” Jag’s laughter floated through my thoughts, causing some of the worry to unknot.

When we cleared the last of the forest, the rangers headed toward a small dock where a barge waited.

The tallest guy, Mark, pulled something out of his bag and checked it. I analyzed the brothers for the first time. They had bright blue eyes and luxurious waves of copper hair hanging to their shoulders. Jag looked like a complete freak with his black dye job and mess of spikes.

“So, we haven’t seen much of Gavin lately,” Jake said. “Even before the Thinkers showed up.”

“Oh yeah?” Jag asked. “Why’s that?” His voice sounded forced.

“Well, she likes to hang with her own crowd, if you know what I mean.”

Jag cast a quick glance at me. “I’m not sure I do.”

And if he didn’t, I was completely clueless. Jake was trying to say something, something important.

“You know rangers,” Mark said. “They like to stick to their own kind.”

“Yeah, you mind rangers are especially clique-ish,” Jake said, smirking at Jag and then me.

I stalled on the words “mind rangers.” Jag was a ranger? And if he was, did that mean I was too?

“We are not clique-ish,” Jag said, admitting his mind-ranger status. A few seconds passed as reality sank in, took root.

I am a mind ranger.

No wonder my dad wanted me so badly.

“Are you okay?” Mark asked, looking at me. I realized a choking noise was coming from my throat.

I nodded, even though I still couldn’t get a proper breath. If I couldn’t enter Seaside and find asylum, well, I couldn’t even think about what might happen to me.

Jag said something that didn’t penetrate my ears. I wanted to spew everything out so I wouldn’t get tangled up in the panic, but I couldn’t order the words properly.

When I looked up, Jag and I stood alone on the dock. Jake and Mark busied themselves on the barge. Not knowing if Jag could hear my words in his mind or just feelings through, well, however he feels stuff. Maybe through his heart? Anyway, I tried to tell him the reason for my fear.