The Diary of Jaina by Joyce Lee Wilson

Author:Joyce Lee Wilson [Wilson, Joyce Lee]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pyramese Publishing Group
Published: 2019-10-11T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter One

Jinn Assassin Academy boasted three large buildings, one for training, one for housing, and one for missions. Unlike the other two buildings, the one dedicated for missions, one we affectionately called Assassins Hall, was built to provide all the comforts each certified assassin required to carry on with their duties. The life of an assassin was hard, filled with death and destruction and the faculty felt the building would act as a sort of refuge from the day to day assignments.

It didn’t. Even with all the amenities, a bar stocked with the finest liquors money could afford, a heated pool, a dance club, and a resort, the air still held that tinge of death that lingered on all who worked within that building, a tinge no one could escape.

I sat at the bar, perched on a stool, babysitting a glass of scotch. The wooden bar was immaculate, carved from some kind of dark wood I couldn’t quite name and decorated with carvings of symbols only Jinn could read. I found myself there often after training, classes, and missions have taken their toll on me for the day. There was nothing like scotch to wipe away the trauma of the day, especially when I was fortunate enough to get so inebriated I had no choice but to sleep.

Bathed in the soft yellow lights of the bar, Jax approached me, leaning over the bar and offering me another drink, though mine was still full. I gave him a wry smile. He knew me too well. I wouldn’t stop until I’d nearly drowned myself at the bottom of a bottle of scotch, and he wouldn’t stop me, especially after the last mission.

Spinning on his heel, he snatched up a bottle of scotch, grabbed himself a glass and filled it to the brim.

“One day you’re going to drink yourself to death,” he joked, taking a swig from his glass.

As usual, I rolled my eyes. One of the benefits of being Jinn was the ability to heal with but a wish, and there was no shortage of people around willing to make that wish for me. Including Jax, though he’d hate to admit it.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, those beautiful brown eyes trained on me.

For a moment, I wanted to tell him I wasn’t, I wanted to tell him everything I was going through, and more than that, I wanted to give him to opportunity to show me I could trust him. I wanted to trust him, but that was something I’d found hard to do for anyone, especially after everything I’d been through.

I reached up and touched the ragged scar on my left cheek, courtesy of my father who’d flown into a drunken rage one evening while my mother was out. Years later he’d seek help and sober up, but that did little to make up for the years of torment I’d endured at the hands of my peers. I was the person they took their pent up emotions

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