Senshi (A Katana Novel) (19 page)

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Authors: Cole Gibsen

Tags: #teen fiction, #teen, #young adult, #youth fiction, #warrior, #reincarnation, #fiction, #samurai, #supernatrual, #young adult fiction, #kunoichi, #ninja, #Japan, #senior year

BOOK: Senshi (A Katana Novel)
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39

Q
sat on my bed hugging his knees to his chest and rocking back and forth.

I lit several candles and turned off the lights. “Close your eyes,” I told him. “And concentrate on breathing slowly.” With any luck we could pull this off without waking Debbie or—
shudder
—Dr. Wendell.

He nodded and closed his eyes. His chest convulsed as he struggled to steady his ragged breaths. “Now what?”

I wasn’t exactly sure—I knew nothing about being a healer or how their abilities worked. But I did remember Lord Toyotomi’s lessons in ki manipulation. I hoped the same principles applied here. Healing had to
be just another way of moving energy … I hoped.

I sucked in my own deep breath. “Okay. First things first, you have to find your center. Breathe in through your nose and exhale through your mouth. Concentrate on your breathing and nothing else. If it helps, imagine yourself floating out of your body.”

He frowned. “I don’t know. This sounds kind of ridiculous.”

I flicked my fingers at him, releasing just enough ki to ruffle his hair. “Was that ridiculous?”

He opened his eyes and nodded. “Yes. Yes it was.”

I chuckled and sat next to him. “Fair enough. It’s ridiculous that I can conjure up fireballs in chemistry, shield my body with energy, and disappear into shadows. It’s also ridiculous that you can heal a deadly knife wound in seconds without leaving a scar behind.” I held up my arm. “But you can. So now you have to work around your doubt. You need to understand there’s more to this world, there’s more to
you,
than you realize.”

“Okay.” He sounded skeptical.

“Close your eyes.”

He obeyed.

I folded my legs underneath me and took hold of his hands. I really had no idea what I was doing. I was navigating on gut instinct. I only hoped it would be enough to save my friend. “What did it feel like when you healed my arm?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know … it’s kind of hard to explain. Even though my eyes were closed, when I held your arm … I could see this disgusting green—the color of mold—swirling in the darkness.”

“And then what?”

He shrugged. “I’m not exactly sure. All of a sudden I saw a yellow light. It just appeared and grew brighter and brighter until the ugly swirling green disappeared inside of it.”

Yep. That was nice and mysteriously vague. “Can you do it again?”

He frowned.

I squeezed his hand. “Don’t answer that. We’re just going to do it whether you think you can or not.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“It kinda does.”

“Shush!” I ordered. “No more negativity. Close your eyes and concentrate on your mind. What do you see?”


Nothing,” he said. “I really don’t think—” But he bit off his words before he finished. His body went rigid, his fingers felt like stone in my hand. “No. Wait.” His voice lowered to a whisper. “I can see it. It’s … ” He shuddered. “Horrible.”

I tightened my grip on his fingers. “You can do this. Focus on creating a light and burning away the green.”

Q was silent for several moments. Then he gasped, his fingers painfully grasping mine. A hiss escaped through his clenched teeth.

My heart shot like a rocket up inside my throat. “What is it? Are you okay?”

He shook his head, his face pinched with pain. “It’s so deep. The infection … it’s surrounding my mind … it’s rooted inside of it. It won’t move!”

“Yes it will!” It had to. There was no way I was going to lose him to the kunoichi. “Focus on that light, Q. Burn it away.”

He groaned. “It hurts … ”

My muscles tensed, readying myself for action—my go-to response whenever I was afraid. The problem was—with the battle raging inside Quentin’s mind—there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to help. “I’m here.” I rubbed slow circles on the top of his hands with my thumbs. “You can do this, Q. You’re stronger than you think. I believe in you.” I gave his hands an extra squeeze to emphasize my point.

“No.” He opened his eyes and looked at me. “I’m not strong like you and the others. I’m not a samurai.” He shook his head. “I don’t know why you hang out with me. I’m weak. I slow you down. I can’t fight so I only get in the way.”

I jerked him forward so our foreheads almost bumped. “That’s BS. The kunoichi’s infection is making you think that.” But I wasn’t sure if that was true. Did Quentin really feel that, because he wasn’t a samurai, he didn’t deserve to be my friend? “Q, you are the bravest person I know. When that mugger attacked us last summer, you jumped in front of me without hesitating. And tonight, you were ready to fight Whitley—and he’s psychotic.”

A pained smile pulled at his lips. “Maybe I’m just stupid.”

“No. It means you’re a good friend. The best friend I have. You’re the only one who hasn’t abandoned me. And you were able to fight a mind assault from a powerful kunoichi. You are strong, and I’d be happy to have you fight by my side.”

The smile dissolved from his face. He closed his eyes and fell silent. When he didn’t move for several moments, I leaned forward, my lungs tight with worry. “Q?”

He opened his eyes, only they were no longer his eyes. Gone were the beautiful green irises, replaced instead by a milky white haze.

“Q!” Threads of fear laced across my chest. What if I’d been wrong? What if, by trying to help him, I’d only helped him root the infection deeper into his mind. What if he was … gone? I placed a hand on his shoulder and shook him hard enough to make his head bobble on his neck. “Look at me!”

He blinked several times, and gradually the white haze faded, leaving his eyes shining with relief. He smiled. “It’s gone.”

I stared at him, afraid to touch him and shatter this too-good-to-be-true moment. “Are you sure?”

Q threw his arms around me and crushed me to his chest. “I’m sure.” His voice hitched around a sob. “Ri-Ri, I’m so sorry. I never meant the awful things I said to you or the horrible way I treated you.”

I hugged him back. “It wasn’t your fault.” And it wasn’t. The kunoichi better hope Whitley found her before I did. Either way, I was going to make sure she paid for the hell she’d put me and Quentin through.

Q didn’t answer, only continued to hug me to his chest. Locked inside his arms, I realized the knot of tension had been the only thing keeping me together. Now that it was unraveling, I felt myself coming undone. A sob escaped my throat and Q brought a hand to the back of my head. I was so tired. So tired of the ninja, my heartache, and so tired of feeling like I was in this alone.

But now I had my best friend back. And I was going to do whatever it took to make sure the kunoichi didn’t mess with us again.

40

I
never would have guessed after being chased through a museum by security guards, the next night I’d be doing something even less fun.

Carson and I exited the mall’s movie theater and walked down the wide aisle between the clothing shops and jewelry stores. He shuffled next to me, his stride uneven as he struggled to match the pace of my short legs.

I shouldn’t be here. It made me twitchy just thinking about the kunoichi and what she might have planned next. I should be with Whitley, hunting her. Not on the world’s most uncomfortable date.

As we walked aimlessly, our swinging hands accidentally brushed. I flinched and Carson jammed his hands into his pockets.

This was going to be a long night.

“So, uh … ” Carson’s voice broke our marathon of silence.

I looked at him expectantly. He had to realize this date was a disaster. We hadn’t said more than a couple of words since he picked me up. We barely made eye contact. I didn’t know about him, but I just wasn’t
feeling
it. I silently wished he would suggest we call it a night.

“Do you want to grab a bite in the food court?”

No such luck. I shrugged. “Sounds good.” Even if the date was a disaster, that didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy a greasy egg roll.

As I walked with Carson to the food court, I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d ever find someone I’d love as much as Kim. Just thinking about him made my heart clench in pain. How long would it be until I could go out with another guy and not spend the entire time thinking about Kim? How long until the mention of his name didn’t rip claws through my chest? How long until I could walk through the mall without seeing him exit a luggage store with a brand-new carry-on set in tow?

Wait. What?

I hadn’t meant to stop walking, but my feet had rooted themselves to the ground and wouldn’t budge. I couldn’t breathe. He was really here. Close enough that I could run up to him and throw my arms around his neck.

But no. I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t do that ever again.

“Rileigh?”

I blinked at the flannel-shirt-wearing boy next to me and tried to remember who he was and what I was doing with him. I shook my head, forcing my eyes away from Kim. “Sorry, Carson. I-I know that guy.”

Carson glanced at Kim and a pinched look crossed his face. “The guy from the theater. I remember … Do you want to say hi or something?”

I barely suppressed a laugh. That was the last thing I wanted to do. Actually, I wanted to punch Kim in the face. Really hard. I wanted to make him suffer, make him bleed for ripping out my heart and pretending I didn’t matter.

But at the same time, I wanted to throw my arms around him and kiss him. I wanted him to admit he still loved me. That he was sorry for hurting me. I wanted him to take back all of the hurt he’d inflicted on me and promise he’d never do it again.

And then I’d hit him again. And kiss him again. And I’d keep doing both until I’d burned every ounce of torment from my body.

Yeaaaaah. That didn’t sound healthy. But I’d worry about that later.

I shook my head. “I don’t want to say hi. We were friends once. But now … not so much.” I thought of Yoshido and all the nights we’d spent entwined in each other’s arms. I thought of his kisses and the words he whispered hot against my neck. I shivered. “Yoshido is dead.”

Carson’s eyes widened. “
Who’s
dead?”

I laughed nervously and waved my hand dismissively.
Stupid Rileigh.
“Nothing. Let’s get some food.”

“Okay.” He smiled and held out his hand.

I paused, staring at his open palm as another awkward moment passed between us. Finally, Carson dropped his hand and looked away, but not before I saw the hurt pass through his eyes.

God, I was making this so much worse. “No. I’m sorry.” I snatched his hand and curled my fingers around his. His hand felt weird entwined with mine. His fingers didn’t overlap quite right with my much smaller ones. We didn’t fit. Not like Kim and me. But there was no Kim and me. There was only me, the mall, and Carson. Who was a cute boy. A nice boy. This could work. I would make this work.

Carson stared at me with an unreadable expression. “You’re a hard one to figure out, Rileigh Martin.”

“Yeah, I know.” We continued to the food court. I resisted the itching inside of me that ached to watch Kim walk away. I couldn’t help but wonder why he needed a new suitcase. But it didn’t matter. Nothing Kim bought or did was any of my concern. “I’ll give you the Wikipedia summary and save us some time.”

Carson waited.

“Likes—skating and greasy food.”

He nodded. “Both good things.”

“Dislikes—getting stabbed.”

His laugh was both surprised and nervous. “Yeah, I’m not a fan of getting stabbed, either.”

I smiled back. We had things in common. That was good, right? Maybe I could do this dating thing, after all. Easy-peasey.

As we approached the food court, the smells of frying oil and salt greeted my noise. Ahhh, heaven.

“What would you like?” Carson asked.

I surveyed the various fast-food counters with everything from the greasy Americanized version of Chinese food to the greasy Americanized version of Mexican food and everything greasy and Americanized in between. “One of each, please.”

He laughed and pulled me toward a pizza counter. “How’s this?”

I opened my mouth to answer him when a prickly, cold sensation spread across my body. A feeling that could only mean one thing: Someone here wanted to hurt me, and not just in a clog-my-arteries-so-I-die-of-heart-disease kind of way, either.

Son of hibachi.

“Uh, Rileigh?”

I glanced at Carson, who was staring at my white-knuckled grip on his hand. I quickly let go. “Sorry.”

He flexed his fingers as he shook his hand. “Did anyone ever tell you that you’re kind of strong for a girl?”

I ignored him and surveyed the food court. It was almost eight o’clock, so there weren’t many diners. Two young mothers and their toddlers sat at a table to my right. To my far left sat a man surrounded by shopping bags; the woman he was with chatted away on her cell phone. Definitely not ninjas.

But they were here. I could sense them … somewhere.

“Rileigh, are you okay?”

I shook my head as I continued surveying the passing shoppers. “I don’t think so. All of a sudden my stomach feels all flip-floppy. I think it was the jalapeño nachos I ate at the movie.”

“Really? You seemed fine a second ago.”

“Funny how fast those things work through your system, huh?”

I grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the food court, retracing our steps toward the theater and the parking lot beyond. I had to get Carson out of here before whatever was going to happen happened.

I half-jogged, half-pulled Carson through the thinning crowds of shoppers. But the pressure under my skin continued to build until I felt like an overinflated balloon. Somewhere, somehow, the ninja were closing in.

I pulled Carson into the nearest store, hoping to lose the ninja by ducking through the racks. And then maybe I could catch a glimpse of whoever was after me.

“Um, Rileigh

” Carson fidgeted in place, his face crimson. He looked really uncomfortable.

And then I spotted the table full of bras next to him and realized why. I had pulled him inside of a Victoria’s Secret. Lovely.

“Hi!” A perky blonde with a French twist and a black pantsuit approached us. “What can I help you find today?” She pulled a measuring tape off of her shoulder. “I’d be happy to measure you to make sure you’re wearing the correct cup size.”

Carson stared at the ceiling, his cheeks burned so red they bordered on purple.

“Um … ” Sometimes I missed the simplicity of being a samurai long ago. If someone was after you, you could just cut their heads off. And if you did it in public, odds were people would even cheer. If I did that now, I was pretty sure I’d no longer have a social life. “My cups are fine, thanks.” As soon as I said it, I wanted to bash my head against the nearest wall.

Before the saleslady could argue, I pulled Carson out of the store. So much for hiding. Walking through the mall, the sensation buzzed below my skin greater than before. My skin crawled and my pulse skipped. I half-walked, half-ran toward the parking lot, lugging Carson behind me like a frightened pony. We’d just turned a corner around a cell phone kiosk when I spotted them.

A tall, dark-haired boy wearing a black T-shirt and jeans walked briskly in my direction, followed by a dark-skinned girl with mocha hair and chili pepper lips. Her smile oozed acid.

They weren’t the same ninja from my street fight, but if the buzzing beneath my skin was any indicator, I had no doubt these two intended to bring the hurt.

So, I had a decision to make and fast. Of course they were here to kill me. But what did I do about it? They didn’t want to throw down in the middle of the mall, did they? But of course they were ninja, so anything was possible. Either way, I couldn’t let them get close to me or Carson. They’d use his inexperience against me.

If I could just make it to the parking lot, maybe I could convince Carson to leave without me. And then I could take care of the ninja on my own. But if Carson wouldn’t leave, well, I doubted he had
Be killed by ninjas
penciled in on his schedule. I only hoped I could get us out of this in one piece.

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