Chapter 4 Gavin Lockwood

Gavin’s fists hit the heavy bag with the thud thud thwap of his right right left combination. He was anxious, an invisible weight at the back of his mind telling him that something was coming, something he wasn’t prepared for.

Thud, thud, thwap.

Pushing harder he worked to clear his mind. Push back the stupid intuition that never actually told him anything. Some vague fortune teller telling him something was coming. With no actual details or helpful information.

He was a fighter. And not one of those boxers everyone watched on tv. That danced around throwing the occasional punch and hugging their opponent. A brawler. Back streets don’t fuck with that guy fighter. Dangerous. He needed a target. Dragon shapeshifters weren’t levelheaded to begin with. Throw in the vague feeling of being threatened he was downright volatile.

His mother had visions to go with her intuition. She had always told him that his intuition was telling him more than he was hearing. And really if that was true it needed to enunciate a little better. His mother had been delicate, gentle, and more that a little willing to give the powers that be time to show her whatever they wanted…no matter how long it too.

The worlds system of government was fucked. Focused only on the betterment of those in power and not of the people and what they might need. The families of the Hierarchy had been in power for over five hundred years. And they had decimated the world.

The gentler species, the ones who lived for music and sunshine and not fighting and power, had been overshadowed. Hunted. Enslaved. The Hierarchy was divided, fractured. On one side those that rode high on power. On the other the ones that still believed in the process. War’s that should have been prevented occurred in back streets. Kidnappings. Assassinations. The quiet decimation of any voice against the agenda.

The Queen was the only one carrying the blood and powers of the Elemental. The only one so connected with the Earth that it spoke to her. Allowed her to manipulate it, use it. They’d once been fighters in their own rights. Powers beyond belief. They could cause earthquakes or make it rain to end a drought. At some point in history they had gone from the warriors that fought for their people to being slaves.

Now generations later their voice had less power and control than any member of the Hierarchy. They were used only as a way to keep the Elemental bloodline. A way to maintain power over the people. They had been beaten and abused their voice was but a whisper. Withdrawn and hidden in on themselves in self preservation.

Gavins’ mother had been with her since the beginning. Born into servitude, Mary had grown up with Cassandra. Intended to help her maintain her image, her composure with the population. Guide her towards the will of the Hierarchy. But when the Queen had become pregnant with a baby that didn’t descend from one of the Hierarchy—things changed.

His mothers' visions had turned from struggle into the bright light of hope. Visions of a future that could bring everyone back into the light. It was the reason he was on this ridiculous path he was on. Working with the Queen to overthrow the powers that had been beating the people into the ground for centuries.

Gathering the forces of the resistance and entering the Blood Race. Their one chance to legally take back control. It was only the deadliest competition ever. The system that had failed. The system that had put the power mongers in power to begin with. He was only going to try and take everything they had away from them.

Easy peasy.

Gavins’ frustration snapped and he beat the bag mercilessly. Gritting his teeth he growled low in his chest.

Thud, thud, thwap.

It wasn’t just his life being put in danger. There were ten slots. Ten slots they had to fill. If they didn’t the whole thing would be pointless. If they didn’t, they would lose. His people. His family. A mashup of species, half of which were healers and sprites that got distracted by flowers during training and started dancing every time it rained. Fuck.

Thud, thud, thwap. Crack!

The heavy bag cracked, sand spilling on the ground at his feet. Gavins’ breath heaved in and out of his lungs, clenched fists hanging at his sides unsatisfied. The dark hue that had filled the edges of his vision cleared slowly. The sounds of the gym coming back into focus. Weights tinked, metal on metal. Bodies hit mats with a slushy sounding thwack. Grunts. Chatter. Laughter.

Gavin rolled his shoulders, muscles twitching with leftover adrenaline. The broken bag swung uselessly, leaking sand like an hourglass counting down to something he couldn’t name. He wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his hand and exhaled hard.

The intuition pulsed again.

And there just below the warning a familiar presence. Warm and tingly shifting around in his mind like a delicate butterfly floating in and out of focus. It wasn’t a voice. It wasn’t a vision. Just…her. The same soft flicker that haunted him ever since that night almost four years ago.

He shoved the feeling down and grabbed the chain of the ruined bag and ripped it down, tossing it aside. The gym wasn’t fancy, just concrete walls, mismatched mats, and equipment repaired more times than he could count. But it was home. It was the one place he could beat something until the world made sense again.

“I thought I was the one with the temper problems.” Max’s voice drifted from behind him, lazy and amused. The Oni leaned against a pillar, arms crossed, his strong square chin barely disguising his enlarged lower canines would look like tusks if he ever smiled. He never smiled.

“You have the lack-of-emotions problems.” Gavin corrected, snagging a bottle of water off the mat at his feet.

“You’re wound tight.” Max didn’t move, watching Gavin pace back and forth with unreleased tension. “You worried about the mission?”

“We’re about to walk into the one place we can't control with ten people,” Gavin stopped pacing, holding up two fingers, “two of which squeal when they see a puppy, with nothing more than hope and vision about a bright light from twenty-five years ago.”

The corner of Max’s mouth twitched. “What’s to worry about then.”

Gavin rolled his eyes. Nerves twitched under his skin, telling him something was coming, something he wasn’t prepared for, and he just couldn’t put his finger on it.

“Is it the girl?” Max asked, his voice low. Low enough it did not carry to the men close by.

Gavin froze.

The girl. Of course it was the girl.