The Truth in Pain | Book Two of the In Pain Trilogy

Who Are You

The banging on the door grew ceaseless, even when Jasmine came out of the bathroom. With a towel patting her hair, she noticed her roommate was gone. Her bed was unmade, her clothes thrown all around the room. Jasmine bent to pick up a fallen shirt, ignoring the shouts from outside. They were calling her to answer the door, saying they wouldn't leave until she opened up. If they really thought that would get her to open the door to them, they weren't smart.

She sat on her bed, continuing to dry her hair. The pounding faded into white noise. Jasmine's eyes burned into the wooden floor, her mind drifting off. Different scenarios popped up in her head, as if presenting itself to be displayed but she quickly skipped past them all. She settled, finally, on daydreaming about last night. Instead of what actually went down, Jasmine replaced her tears with the lycans' blood. She swapped her flailing, frantic punches for quick, precise ones that knew where to hit and how to make it look cool. She was smiling to herself, caught up when she heard a familiar voice.

"What are you people doing out here?" came her mother's voice. "Go away before I call the campus police! Go!"

Jasmine heard a muffled response, then her mother's loud shouts broke through. She was suprised it didn't blow the door off its hinges. "I said, go!" The door opened and she slipped through. "When I open this door, you better be gone!"

Jacey Wynter was many people in one. She was a mother. She was the woman who had wiped Jasmine's nose when she was little, and read her bedtime stories. She was the one who got up early to make her daughter's breakfast before they went to school. She kissed booboos. She cheered whenever her children achieved something.

She was also a teacher. Jacey got her teaching degree when she was still pregnant with Jasmine. After Jasmine was born, she set to work teaching primary school children and was voted Best Teacher of the Year three years in a row.

And lastly, Jacey was a disciplinarian. She didn't tolerate disrespect, she didn't hesitate to dole out punishment like it was money. By the time she was done, the most unruly child would be whipped into shape.

Right now, Jasmine could have sworn she saw all three Jaceys barking at the supernaturals outside. She closed the door with a slam, then brushed herself down, as if they had spilled rudeness all over her and she had to get it off before it seeped into her skin. Jasmine thought she saw a flash of fear on her face, before she spotted her.

"Jasmine!" Jacey rushed over. "Are you okay? You aren't hurt, are you? Stand up."

Jasmine did as she was told. Her mother whirled her around, checking to make sure Jasmine wasn't sporting any bleeding wounds. "Mommy, I'm fine," she tried to assure.

"Good, good," Jacey said with a sigh. "I was afraid-"

"Afraid of what?"

Jacey blinked, as if she hadn't realized what she said. She shook her head. "Nothing, nothing. Come here, let me pray over you."

Jasmine groaned. Jacey often did that with all her children. Before they left for school, she would take them one by one, rest her chin on their heads and murmur a prayer to one of the gods. Sometimes it was the god of the nations for strength, other time it was the warrior god for protection. Each time, Jasmine had to wait it out. It always felt as if her prayer was longer than her sisters. It's been a while since her mother prayed over her.

Jasmine allowed Jacey to wrap her arms around her without protest. They were the same height, so Jasmine bent her head to give her mother the chance to rest her chin on top. Jacey and Jasmine looked a lot alike. The only difference between the two, other than visible age, was that Jacey usually braided her hair around her head and she was weightier.