A Flare Of Hope (The Jaylior Series Book 1)

by Elodie Colt

  I managed to conquer the distance, but keeping balance during a split with your weight only on your toes wouldn’t go well for long, so I pushed myself forward a second after I had a firm grip on the narrow surface. Quickly straightening my body to avoid crashing with my head into the wall in front of me, I grabbed the safety bar on the side.

  Done. Thank God. Definitely not the fastest way. I would have to rethink my tactics here.

  Now I needed to conquer the bar with the shooting balls. One almost hit my ribs, but I stopped short at the last second bending over at an awkward angle and letting the ball shoot by in front of my stomach. I was nearly through when a ball hit my ankle nearly knocking me over, but I managed to stay upright.

  After I reached the end, I jumped to get hold of the first rung of a ladder over my head and swung my body from rung to rung. Each one forced a battle cry out of me as the ropes had left the skin on my hands sore. A drop of blood hit my cheek. The cut from the attack a few nights before had started to bleed again.

  It’s almost over, it’s almost over…

  Just one obstacle left—the wall with its endless height.

  Before I sprinted forward to bounce onto the trampoline, I took a few calming breaths, assessing its height and trying to kill all thoughts about Shawna and a high fence that suddenly invaded my mind. This was bad timing. Get a grip, dammit!

  My goal was to swing my legs over the top, land on the mat, and make a roll to ease the impact—theoretically speaking, that was.

  Taking one last breath, I vaulted through the air with as much force as needed to get as close to the edge as possible. Gripping the handles on top, I pushed myself up a few more inches. The muscles in my arms were starting to tremble from the effort, and I let out another grunt to push my legs over the top. Thankfully, I didn’t get caught on the edge with my shoe, or I would have made the famous ‘scorpion’ on the mat below.

  Using my last strength, I managed to swing my legs over the edge letting gravity pull me to the ground and make a roll. That last part was more an accident rather than on purpose, which was why I got off course and finished half of the roll on the hard rubber floor.

  Ha, no injuries!

  I grinned in satisfaction and pushed a few strands of hair out of my face that were glued to my sticky skin. Stupid, useless braid.

  I turned to join the other students only to realize everyone was eyeing me warily, whispering in each other’s ears. They were probably disappointed I didn’t break a bone. Well, I was not.

  My gaze wandered to Dylan who gave me a scrutinizing look before gracing me with a short nod. Wow, I guessed I’d done well. I doubted this man with his steely exterior was one of those trainers who praised his students with compliments.

  His eyes trailed down to the floor. I followed his gaze and saw a few droplets of blood dripping from the cut on my hand. Dylan turned to rummage through his training bag and tossed something at me, which I caught easily mid-air. It was a package of bandages.

  “Ten-minute break, and then we’ll start,” he announced.

  Ten minutes? Was he insane?

  I pulled a bandage from the package and wrapped it over my injury. I debated going over to Dylan to return the package, but he was currently busy typing on his phone. Being the scaredy-cat I was when it came to him, I took aim and threw the package in a high arc. It landed directly in Dylan’s open training bag. This seemed to be enough to get his attention, but I was already walking away before his gaze caught my eyes.

  Retrieving the water bottle from my training bag, I slid down the wall to sit on the floor, closing my eyes to get my breathing back to normal. Giggling girls passed me interrupting my few minutes of peaceful rest.

  “Don’t try too hard, no one makes the obstacle course the first time without at least one fatal injury,” Amber scoffed and earned more giggles from her two minions.

  I didn’t dignify her with a comment and continued to ignore her which was usually the best strategy with such people.

  “Are you okay?” someone asked, and I opened my eyes to see Jared looming over me, a concerned look on his face.

  “Yeah, just a little exhausted. What about you? I feared you broke your nose up there,” I said, nodding my head in the direction of the obstacle that had cost us all our nerves.

  “I broke my nose once.” He chuckled pointing to said body part. Squinting my eyes, I noticed his bridge was slightly crooked.

  “Oh, shit.”

  “Don’t worry, we’ve had worse injuries here.”

  “Good to know,” I mumbled sarcastically, wondering if my first injury awaited me today.

  A whistle startled us all. Dylan wanted us to start the obstacle course.

  “All right, break is over. After the warm-up, we’ll do the obstacle course the right way. Try to be as fast and efficient as possible. I’ll track your time.”

  Oh, great. I doubted my second round would be as easy as the first one.

  This time, each student made a full round before the next one was allowed to start. Most of them spent the time stretching and bending limbs. I lined up as the last one in the queue again, trying to bide time until I had to face the challenge.

  It would have been totally my thing, but I wasn’t used to having an audience. I preferred to move in the dark on top of buildings and hidden under a big sweater, running through the night where no one would judge me about wrong or ungraceful moves.

  And yep, Jared was right, there were worse injuries. Marcy got knocked out cold after hitting Jared’s favorite wall with her forehead first. Another boy got tangled up when hopping through the tires and fell so disastrously, he bit off half his tongue when his chin smacked off the unyielding ground.

  In most cases, Dylan sent another student to bring the injured back to their rooms, or, in case of fatal injuries, to a Regenerator. He didn’t seem to have pity, never offering personal help, and I didn’t know what to make of that.

  When the boy with the bleeding mouth passed us, hanging limply with his arm draped over another girl’s shoulder, and Dylan didn’t even bother to look at him, I got angry. How could he be so cold? The obstacle course was hard, and I would know. Even professional athletes would find it to be a challenge.

  Dylan turned and caught the cold gaze I shot him. For a brief second, his eyes shifted from completely unfazed to questioning. I bowed my head and trotted forward in line, hoping for more luck than needing to rely on Dylan’s care—or more like the lack of it.

  And then it was my turn. I gained my focus and did a mental record before facing each obstacle.

  Run, jump, balance on the bar, then jump down and roll under the horizontal bar. Bounce over the tires. Crawl through the narrow pipe and keep arms to the chest to avoid scratches. Run for the high bar and make a rotation.

  So far, so good.

  Charge the next five obstacles and jump over each one. Use ergonomic handles on climbing wall. Grab a rope and swing to the next. Repeat.

  Slide rope down and avoid too much contact with hands (failure here, my fingers were already burning). Run to the trampoline and do a somersault to the mat behind. Push the punching bag up the ramp and do ten push-ups (fuck, this was pure torture).

  The unyielding wall. I couldn’t waste time with doing the splits like before. Shit, I hadn’t thought this through. Jumping face forward was too risky—I was bound to hit the wall frontally. The adrenaline pumped harder through my system as I was desperately trying to find a solution.

  There was another opportunity. I didn’t need to land on the narrow surface. I just needed to use it as another spring core to push myself to the next obstacle awaiting me. It was risky. Chances were high I’d slip before getting hold of the safety handle, but it was worth a try.

  I shot forward, jumped off a little sideways to avoid hitting the wall head-on, put my foot down on the narrow surface, and used all my power to push myself to the next obstacle. I managed to avoid touching the wall which would have caused me to stagger backward.
The first step worked, but the landing failed. My jump wasn’t high enough to grab the next wall, the edge of it just within reach. I had to grab the surface of the ridge before tumbling to the ground.

  Great. Now I was hanging here. My muscles were already burning, but I needed to pull myself up quickly. With grunts of effort, I managed to heave my body over the edge.

  Now to the bar with the shooting balls. To get faster to the other side, I jumped forward, landing in the middle of the bar instead of tipping over the whole thing in a fast walk. I flailed my arms as I tumbled but regained my balance by using my limbs as counterweights. I dodged all balls but had to duck real low as the last one zipped past me. Jogging to the step ladder, I grabbed the sprouts one after another, cursing mentally until reaching the last one.

  Done.

  And now the high wall behind the trampoline.

  I ran forward without thinking. As my move to conquer the top had already worked before, I would repeat it. However, in the exact moment when I hit the trampoline with my feet, I saw the dark alley and the chain link fence again.

  Time slowed down as I was brutally brought back to the night I paid witness to Shawna’s murder. A tingling feeling brewed in my belly, forcing the same sensation to the surface. My perception started to sharpen like it had happened all those years ago, only this time, the shock destroyed my focus instead of enhancing it.

  I couldn’t have done much anyway against what was about to happen…

  Bryceland had done pretty well so far, although I’d expected her to be more competent than the rest. I’d already seen what she could do, but I still had to test her boundaries.

  Her braided hair was new to me. It was apparent how long her hair was, nearly reaching her waist. I wondered how it looked without a rubber band or clip. I’d always had a thing for long hair. Cassie had tried to lengthen hers a few times with her Shifter ability, but it somehow didn’t have the same effect.

  When Bryceland started the warm-up round, my gaze immediately fell south. I loved the female sportswear and its tight training pants but only enjoyed the view when it covered the right body, of course.

  Damn, that woman had legs like a goddess. They were endlessly long and well-shaped. And that ass… Formed like an apple and deliciously taut. Hers was even better than Cassie’s. A little rounder, a little curvier, a little sturdier. The perfect size to be grabbed by…

  Stop. What the fuck was I doing here? Shit, I needed to pay some girls outside the compound a visit soon, or my dick would threaten to explode.

  “How did she take the first lesson?” I asked Scott after chasing my inappropriate thoughts into the farthest corner of my mind. No need to explain whom I meant.

  “Better than expected. Composed and alert all the time. She seemed shocked when I explained about the parental heritage, though.”

  “I’m not surprised.” We both cast a glance at Bryceland who quickly averted her eyes. It was clear she was intimidated by me. Good for her.

  “Will you make her do the obstacle course today?”

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t you think it’s a bit early for that?”

  “No. She needs to get used to hard training.”

  Scott wanted to counter but thought better of it. In that exact moment, I caught Amber stretching her leg to the side on purpose causing Bryceland to trip over it. I blew my whistle immediately. Unfair behavior was not tolerated in my classes.

  “Make another move like that, and you’re out for the rest of the day, Amber.”

  Bryceland threw me a questioning look, probably wondering why I was defending her. I wasn’t, but fairness was important to me.

  I decided to address her by her last name. It somehow put a certain distance between us I desperately wanted to maintain.

  When it was time for the obstacle course, she started slowly, taking every step deliberately. She didn’t make any blowsy mistakes and was one of the few to jump over the hindrances with a perfect swing of her legs. Finally, someone with enough body control.

  I marveled at her agility. Most of the students were not athletic and flexible enough to make the moves smoothly. Her agility even outshined Cassie’s, and I would know about how flexible she was.

  She conquered the first round more proficiently than the average. I took mental notes where she’d need more training later and which moves she needed to improve.

  When she walked back to the group of students panting for air and sweating like the rest of them, I didn’t miss her expectant look in my direction. It was important to her what I thought of her performance. I graced her with a short nod.

  Then I noticed droplets of blood dotting the ground. The cut on her hand had started to bleed. Normally, I wouldn’t care, but I knew she’d struggle with the next round if she didn’t at least bandage it, so I took a pack of bandages out of my bag and tossed it to her.

  My phone vibrated in my pocket. A text message from Cassie.

  Cassie: Wanna join me for a run later?

  Yeah, a run. Last time I went running with Cassie, I ended up lying on my back in the middle of the woods with a horny Cassie straddling me. It had taken me three pushes and a lot of convincing to get her off me. I quickly texted back.

  Dylan: Can’t. Training, sry.

  Just as I hit the sent button, something flew by directly into my bag—the package of bandages. Count on Bryceland to also place a good shot. When I glanced at her, she was already walking away. She still took my warning from a few nights before seriously.

  When it was time to run the course at full speed, the first injuries needed to be taken care of, and I didn’t miss the disapproving look she shot me at not helping the injured personally. She didn’t agree with my nonchalant handling of Freshmen, but she’d have to get used to that. She should be glad it was me training them and not Cassie, because Cassie would let them bleed out on the ground.

  Bryceland was the last one to do the parkour clearly uncomfortable with all the eyes watching her. She sprinted forward when I blew the whistle, and I pushed the button on the timer dangling from my neck.

  Her movements were calculated, swift, and efficient. She avoided making the mistakes she’d made in her first round. She made the push-ups faster than most of the male Freshmen even with the cut on her hand and surely blisters from the ropes.

  “How’s she doing?”

  I turned to see Scott coming to a halt next to me. “Exceptionally well.” Scott nodded, crossing his arms and staying to watch her progress.

  To avoid wasting valuable time with balancing over the next bar, she jumped on it and landed in the middle, therefore already covering half the distance. Her balancing abilities were extraordinary which was why I didn’t understand her complaints about clumsiness. It didn’t make sense.

  She struggled for a second with the narrow obstacle, probably knowing she’d lose valuable time by doing the splits, so she tried to take the narrow wall as a springboard. The landing didn’t work out as she intended, and I feared she would fall, but she caught herself at the last moment. Her face was already red and sweaty from exhaustion, and I could see the effort it took her to get up again.

  I glanced at the timer—two minutes and forty-two seconds. The average for the Freshmen obstacle course was about three minutes. She’d get the best time of all of them and that on her first day. I shook my head in disbelief. That girl was one of a kind.

  But then something happened neither of us were prepared for.

  When she charged the last trampoline, I was shocked to see the Flare flashing in her eyes. I immediately knew what it meant, but I also knew I wouldn’t get to her in time.

  I watched her fly higher and farther than any of them had ever jumped, but she lost control, limbs flailing, sailing through the air and over the wall. I dashed forward when I realized she was going to miss the mat to cushion her fall, but it was already too late.

  With a sickening crash, she thudded to the ground landing on her side and staying motionless. Fuck,
no. If something serious happened to her on her first day of training, Jimmy would kill me for sure.

  A choking sound of agony was heard before I finally reached her. Dropping to my knees beside her, I grabbed her shoulder and rolled her onto her back. Another hiss of pain came through her clenched teeth as I noticed her shoulder was set at an awkward angle. She panted in panic as she struggled for air, breath rasping. Her lungs had constricted.

  “Shit!” Scott yelled when he reached us a second later.

  “Bryceland, calm down. Just breathe slowly.” Her eyes were squeezed shut in agony, a tear running down her cheek. The other students were already clustered around us trying to get a glimpse of the accident.

  “Dammit. Scott, get them out of here,” I ordered, and Scott ushered the students out the door. “And call Sarah!” I yelled after him before turning back to face the injured girl writhing in front of me.

  “Bryceland.” I tried to get her attention, clicking my fingers in front of her face. No reaction except for her frantic breathing. Grabbing her face, I called her name again. Her eyes pried open, but they rolled out of focus, clouded with unshed tears.

  “Hey, look at me,” I commanded, and her eyes finally landed on mine. “Relax. Try to breathe slowly. In…” I demonstrated an intake of breath, “and out…” and another demonstration. It took her a few attempts, but her breathing finally became slower. “Good girl. Your shoulder is dislocated. I need to fix that,” I informed her.

  She threw me a panicked look, eyes wide in horror. “But… Reg… Regenerator?” she croaked, and it nearly sounded like a pleading. She was afraid of me touching her. I would have laughed under different circumstances.

  I took her wrist with one hand and her elbow with the other, a whimper escaping her when I moved her arm. “A Regenerator can’t relocate bones. We have to do it the traditional way. I’ve done this more than once, trust me.”

  “I don’t,” she muttered through gnashed teeth, feebly trying to pull her arm away.

  “Good enough,” I replied, not surprised she didn’t trust me in the slightest, although it lightly struck a chord. I just didn’t know why, though. “Ready?”