Free Possession by Elana Johnson Page A

loaded my stolen goods into it.
    My head ached, and I had to wipe a trickle of blood away every so often. I leaned on Jag more than I wanted to, but he seemed to be relying on me just as much.
    I thought about the night Zenn and I spent in the Abandoned Area last summer, and the way we kept each other awake by making up stories about what life would be like if we were in charge. How I missed him, but at least thinking of him helped me to keep going.
    Finally I stood on the edge of a wheat field. If I took a single step, I’d be on cement. In front of us, small huts dotted the landscape, made completely of stone. No grass, no vegetation. Besides the blazing heat needed to manufacture tech, the Fire Region consisted only of concrete and technology. A buzz started behind my eyes, pulsing along the cut in painful zings. Waves of heat shimmered in the air.
    Jag scouted ahead and found a small shelter next to an inactive Burning Element. We scooted inside just as the street swarmed with fire workers wearing shiny, yellow jumpsuits.
    Littered with broken equipment and garbage, the shack didn’t have much room for anything else. Jag kicked debris around, clearing a small space in the middle.
    He knelt down and opened the backpack. Then he letout a soft moan of satisfaction. “I’m changing right now.” He pulled out an off-white shirt with long sleeves. Then he pulled out a pair of dark jeans and smiled his Jag-winner. “Be right back.” He left, and I wondered where he would change.
    I rummaged to the bottom of the bag, and pulled out another shirt. I cast a quick glance at the door, then pulled off the prison top and slipped into the much thicker shirt that covered my arms down to my wrists. Even with the sweltering heat, it felt like freedom. I threw my bloodstained prison pants in the corner with a pile of garbage. The shirt was cleaner, thanks to Jag’s hose-down, and I tucked it back in the pack. After pulling on the slightly too-big jeans, I felt like a normal good girl. Except I was bad now. But whatever.
    Jag came through the doorway and he looked fine. Really, really
fine
. His jeans looked like they’d been made especially for him and settled down around his hips. His shirt was untucked, making his waist seem much lower than it really was. His arms were bronze and muscled—and bare, because he’d pushed the sleeves up above his elbows. His skin looked warm and smooth.
    He wore a necklace. Jewelry is against the rules in the Goodgrounds. Yeah, I broke that rule too, after Zenn gave me a watch for my birthday. I wished I would’ve worn it the day I went to see him. It would’ve shown him that I loved him.
    But I’d never seen a boy wearing jewelry. The necklace didn’t hang down onto Jag’s chest, but barely encircled his throat. It looked like it choked him—almost. The white rocks were shaped like cylinders with different colored jewels alternating between them. Red, blue, purple, and orange. The gems sparkled even without a light source. Almost like an internal glow radiated from within.
    He caught me gaping at the necklace. “You like?”
    “It’s nice, I guess,” I said, struggling to remain nonchalant. “Where’d you get it?”
    He laughed, the sound truly happy. “I have secret hiding places.”
    The heat rose to my face. I wished it wouldn’t, and I covered my embarrassment with a fake coughing fit. No one should be allowed to look that hot.
    A wave of guilt engulfed me. I’d been matched with Zenn. I shouldn’t be looking at another guy like that. Especially not a bad one.
    But my future with Zenn was as good as over. I couldn’t enter the Goodgrounds again. And I doubted Zenn would leave his position of authority in the Forces and follow me to Seaside, even if I could send him an e-comm to let him know that’s where I was headed.
    That hurt. A lot.
    Jag scanned me from head to toe. “Nice.”
    “What does that mean anyway?” I asked, annoyed at my stupid racing heart and how I