Senshi (A Katana Novel) (2 page)

2

N
othing moved in the alley. Not that I thought it would.
Think, Rileigh. Think!
If the ninja weren’t already here, they would be soon. Somehow I had to get inside the art gallery and warn the others. My first thought was to honk the horn, but that would alert the ninja to my position.

“Crap,” I whispered. The pressure in my chest expanded and pushed against my ribs. The ninja were closing in.

Plan time. The first thing I needed to do was get out of the car. A small space could quickly become a cage in a fight. I popped open Kim’s glove compartment and fumbled around in the hopes of finding a weapon. Unfortunately, besides an owner’s manual, the only thing inside was a tire pressure gauge.

Making a mental note to pay for the repair, I took the thin piece of metal and slammed it into the dome light, cracking the plastic and shattering the bulb underneath. Without the light to give away my presence, I opened the door, slid out of the car, and pressed myself against the jagged edges of the brick wall behind me.

So far, so good.

Keeping my back to the wall, I used my fingers to guide me to the side door Kim had disappeared through. The sharp concrete chipped away at my freshly painted nails. Somebody owed me a manicure.

Several heartbeats later, the brick gave way to cool metal, and I knew I’d made it to the door. Without taking my eyes off the street, I patted the area behind me until I found the door handle. With a relieved sigh, I gave the door a tug.

It didn’t budge.

Double crap.

It wasn’t like I could bang on it and hope Kim would hear me. Nothing says, “Hey, if you want to come kill me, I’m right over here!” like a buttload of noise.

I took a deep breath and slowly exhaled through my mouth.
Okay, no biggie. Ninja are coming, and you’re alone in a dark alley with no weapon, and no way to alert your friends. Do you: (A) Call the cops and hope there will be pieces of you left to identify when they arrive? (B) Jump inside the Dumpster and hope they mistake you for a rat? (C) Fight?

I snorted at my own options. Option A sounded bloody and option B sounded dirty. This was a no-brainer. I cracked my knuckles.

Something stirred in the darkness barely beyond the edge of my vision. Like a hand moving under a black sheet. I couldn’t see the object itself, but its movement distorted the shadows. I straightened my stance, balancing my weight on my back foot. My insides screamed from the pressure consuming every inch of my body, from my tingling toes to my eyeballs that felt ready to pop from their sockets.

I balled my hands into fists. “I know you’re out there!” My voice echoed off the walls and spilled onto the street. “You may as well save us both some time and show yourself.”

A chuckling answered me. “You can sense us. Impressive.” The male voice echoed around me. Before I could wonder where it came from, a shadow peeled off the wall several feet away and, like a cookie fattening in an oven, became whole.

I rolled my eyes. “Seriously? Materializing from a shadow? After 500 years, you couldn’t come up with anything new? No theme music? No dance number? As it stands, I’m kinda disappointed.”

Two more shadows pulled free from the wall, materializing into figures that flanked the first. They were dressed head-to-toe in black from their boots to their face masks.

I folded my arms across my chest. “And what’s with the black suits? That’s so 16th century.”

The figure on the right, the smallest of the three, cocked its head. “Do you always talk so much when facing death?” Her voice was low, just above a growl.

“Actually, I talk when I’m
bored
.”

The wink of metal glinting under the streetlight answered me. The girl removed a small, sickle-like blade from her belt. The short handle was attached to a chain that she swung menacingly in front of her.

A kusarigama—designed not only to cut but to ensnare. Triple crap.

My alarm must have showed on my face because the middle figure laughed. “So you’re the great
Senshi.
I’m afraid I don’t understand the hype.” His eyes traveled the length of my body. “I was expecting …
more
.”

The buzzing within me electrified my blood, skipping my pulse into an erratic rhythm. So they knew who I was—or at least who I’d been—which meant they’d been searching for me. Now the only question was
why?
“What do you want?”

The middle ninja cocked his head. “Your head on my blade.”

I sighed. Ninja always wanted me dead. How come they never wanted to take me for pancakes? That would be a nice change.

The middle ninja dropped his arms to his side, exposing the hooked blades protruding from his knuckles.

This was getting better by the minute. I cast a quick glance at the side door.
Dang it, Kim! Where are you?

“Let’s do this.” The remaining ninja—definitely male given his linebacker build—pulled two short curved blades from his belt. He ran at me, the blades arched above his head. In the space of two heartbeats, his blades dove for my skull. I had just enough time to duck the first slash when the kusagirama wedged itself into the brick wall inches away from my nose.

My own wide eyes stared at me from the blade.
Sloppy, Rileigh
. I pushed off the brick just as the ninja with the blades lashed out with a spinning kick.

Diving to the ground to avoid the blow, I only had a millisecond to mourn my ruined shirt, now soaked with muddy rainwater and whatever else was in the murky puddle I rolled in. I planted my palms onto the asphalt, wincing as jagged pieces of gravel dug into my skin. A second later, I was back on my feet. Just in time to face the ninja with the blades on his knuckles.

His first strike was high, giving me plenty of time to duck. But his second came fast and low. I jumped back—not an easy feat in my skinny jeans—and, even then, two of his blades snagged the fabric of my shirt, slashing through the hem.

My breath came in rapid bursts. Two close calls within the space of seconds. I was going to have to do better than that if I hoped to leave with my head.

Knife ninja was in front of me.

Darting to the left and ducking to the right, I dodged the knives that struck at me like a pair of silver cobras. Behind me, the sound of a chain unraveling echoed through the alley, alerting me it was time to dive and roll before the kusagirama invaded my personal space—and by personal space I meant spleen.

Thanks to my quick movement, the kusagirama missed me, and instead grazed the shoulder of knife ninja. He cried out, dropping the blades in order to clutch his bleeding shoulder. “Watch where you’re aiming!”

Kusagirama girl’s eyes narrowed behind her mask. “Then stay out of my way!”

I used their standoff to make a dive for the discarded blades. Clawed ninja seemed to guess what I was about to do and lashed out with a kick. He missed my head (point for me) but caught my shin with his heel (point for him). Pain blossomed under my skin as I staggered to my feet with the knives in my hands.

Kusarigama girl pulled back her blade and wound the chain around her arm. She left two feet dangling from her hand and began spinning it over her head.

My body, bruised from the kick and scraped from the asphalt, tensed. Every muscle inside of me strained, ready to leap in the opposite direction of wherever the kusarigama struck.

She released the chain viper fast, the blade aimed for my chest. I had just enough time to bend over backward as the kusarigama sailed past my body, close enough to ruffle the tattered edge of my shirt. It sank into the wall, crumbling bits of brick onto the ground.

Gritting my teeth through the burn of my aching muscles, I jabbed a knife into the chain above me and twisted until it was locked in. Using my new grip on the chain, I pulled myself back up into a standing position and ripped the blade from the wall. I raised the chain above my head, spun, and pulled down, wrenching the kusarigama from the ninja’s grip. She stumbled to her knees.

Sensing the clawed ninja, I swung the end of the chain behind me. The ninja grunted as it wrapped around his calves. He fell forward. Using his momentum, I dropped to my knees and propelled him over my shoulder, where he landed on top of the girl. She cried out as one of his clawed hands pierced her thigh.

I made a face and whistled through my teeth. “Ouch. That looks like it hurts.”

The third ninja glanced nervously between me and his fallen friends from where he stood clutching his bleeding shoulder. A steady trickle of blood seeped from between his fingers. His entire left arm looked useless. Bad news for him but great news for me.

A rustling noise caught my attention, and I turned back to see clawed ninja pushing himself off the ground. His eyes crinkled behind his mask, indicating a smile. “You think you’re good, don’t you?”

I shrugged. “You’re the one coming back for seconds.”

He laughed. “It’s a shame it has to go down like this. I’ll admit, I kinda like you.”

I held the knives in front of me, forming an X. “Aw, you’re sweet. Too bad for you I don’t date ninja. I
kill
them.”

He opened his arms wide, beckoning me forward. “You can
try
.”

I spun the knives in my hand, casting a quick glance at my surroundings. The other two ninja were licking their wounds exactly where I left them. Kim was still nowhere to been seen. I was tired, dirty, and my clothes were ruined. The last thing I wanted to do was to keep fighting. But it didn’t look like I had much choice.

Clawed ninja ran toward me and I met him in the middle of the alley in a frenzy of clashing metal. He swung a clawed hand at my face, which I dodged, and then I quickly darted to the side of his other reaching fist. Just as easily, he blocked my blows. My punches were sidestepped, and my kicks deflected by his blocks.

He aimed a high kick for my head, which I ducked under. When he brought his foot down, he balanced his weight on his back leg and leaned back, bringing his arms up in a defensive pose. We stared at each other a moment, both of us using the pause as a chance to catch our breath. The skin on my arms burned, and my muscles pulsed from blocking strikes that were meant to break bone. If I survived,
I was going to look like a Dalmatian with bruises for spots.

The clawed ninja, as if sensing my exhaustion, charged. His fists were a blur of metal and death, an angry cyclone trying to suck me inside its razor-edged core. But just as fast as he could swing a fist, I could duck. Rolling and dodging. Weaving and sidestepping. I bounced his claws off my knives, leaving the clang of metal ringing in my ears.

A thin line of sweat trickled along my temples. I wasn’t sure how much more I could take. My body was already trembling from exertion. With his claws pressed against my knives, I stepped closer and stood on my toes so I could meet his eyes. When I spoke my voice was strained. “Who sent you?”

“That’s a secret.” He rotated his arms up and under, wrenching the knives from my hands and sending them skittering across the asphalt into the shadows.

Son of hibachi
. I cast a quick glance at the door to the gallery. How long did it take to search a building? Surely not as long as Kim and the others had been gone. Why hadn’t they come looking for me yet? I took a step backward. “If you can’t tell me who sent you, maybe you can tell me why?”

He stepped closer and shrugged. “Why does any ninja do what they do? Money? Power?” He chuckled, his laugh husky from exertion. “Or maybe we do it just because we
can
.”

Kusarigama girl giggled from where she sat tearing fabric from her pants and wrapping it around her leg.

I took another step back, only to bump into the brick wall of the building. There was nowhere to run. I needed a plan and I needed it fast.

Clawed ninja closed the distance between us in two long strides. He lifted his arm and struck before I could move. His claws sank into the brick next to my right ear, dusting my shoulder with crumbled rock. I choked on a scream before it exploded up my throat as a gasp. I pressed myself against the wall, as if by sheer force I could sink into it.

“Not so sure of yourself now, are you?” He slowly raised his right hand in the air. “That first strike was just so I could see the fear in your eyes before you die. This time I won’t miss.”

3

A
wind stirred inside of me, burning an icy trail just beneath my skin. It looked like Senshi was finally coming out to play. At least now that I had transcended and we were more or less the same person, I knew how to fight and control my ki—or spirit energy—without the voice of my past self whispering inside my head. I closed my eyes and, when I opened them again, my lips curled into a smirk. “You better hope you don’t miss. Because I
never
do.”

He hesitated, his arm hovering in the air.

I wondered if he could sense the change in me—if he could feel the power buzzing around me as much as I felt it pulsing within.

His eyes flicked nervously from me to his fallen friends. “I hardly think you’re in a position to make threats.” But his voice held a waiver of uncertainty.

“Oh yeah? Here’s where I get to see the fear in
your
eyes.” I released a small amount of ki. The wind brushed through my skin and, once outside my body, became something hard and stiff. It struck clawed ninja in the chest, snapping his head back. He grunted and doubled over.

That should have been the end of it.

But it wasn’t.

I tried to reel my ki back inside me, but the more I pulled at the energy flowing from my body, the faster it spilled out. In fact, I seemed to be creating power faster than I could expel it. It pushed against my bones and stretched under my skin. I felt like a balloon stuck to a helium tank. Gritting my teeth, I staggered backward, my arms wrapped around my stomach. Something was really,
really
wrong.

Clawed ninja screamed and tried to tug his bladed fist from the brick. And when that didn’t work, he released his grip on the metal handle, leaving the claws behind as he felt his way along the wall, shielding his head with his arms. “What are you doing?”

I opened my mouth to explain that it wasn’t me—that I’d lost control—but my words were replaced by a cry of pain. Doubling over, I gripped my sides. Something snapped. A rib? This was followed by a ripping sensation so intense it brought tears to my eyes. I cast one last longing glance at the door.
Kim, where are you?

“Please!” kusarigama girl cried out, shielding herself from the cyclone of wind that filled the alley. “Stop it!”

I tried. But it felt like trying to pour the entire ocean into a coffee mug. My body shook as my ki continued to flood from every pore. A person only had so much spirit energy. I remembered enough from my past-life ki lessons to know that if I didn’t find a way to stop the flood from within, I’d lose all of my ki. And then I’d be in a permanent state of dead
.

Already the effects of my ki loss were taking a toll on my body. My knees buckled and I dropped to the ground, each of my limbs too heavy to move. The energy I needed to stand, to lift my head and even beat my heart, drained from my body with each passing second.

And I wasn’t the only one in trouble. The three ninja cried out in pain—or fear—I couldn’t be sure. Their screams echoed off the brick walls before the wind picked up and tore the voices from their throats. Aluminum cans, discarded lottery tickets, and other trash swirled around us, hitting our bodies only to fly away and strike again.

I mustered enough energy to cover my head with my arm, protecting it against the onslaught of debris. Again, I tried to retract my ki, and again I failed. I couldn’t explain it, but something inside of me felt … off. Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to figure it out. I didn’t have time for anything.

I was out of options.

The clawed ninja sank to the ground beside me, tearing at his throat, gasping for the air being sucked out of him. The other two ninja lay huddled against the wall, their heads tucked under their hands like they were protecting themselves from a tornado—and in a way, they were.

The ground trembled beneath my body. A shriek of metal pierced my eardrums, and I looked up to find the Dumpster sliding across the asphalt. Where were the other samurai? There was no way Kim and the others couldn’t hear what was happening outside, no way they couldn’t feel the building shake around them.

Was Kim in trouble too?

A beer bottle skipped across the asphalt before wind picked it up and smashed it against the edge of the Dumpster. Dozens of jagged pieces swirled in the air like a swarm of glittering wasps. The first shard to come my way only grazed my arm. But the second bit into my cheek with enough force that warm lines of blood streaked across my face. If something didn’t happen soon, I’d be cut to pieces before my spirit bled out of me.

Beside me, the clawed ninja howled in pain. I looked over to find him pulling a jagged piece of glass out of the side of his neck. Another shard brushed across my back, leaving a burning trail in its wake. Hissing in pain, I tried, one last time, to focus, to harness the energy back inside of me like I had so many times in battle. But each time I tried to mentally tug it, it tugged right back, drawing even more energy from within me.

Dying sucked.

I’d killed myself in my first life. Of course, it was to keep from being taken prisoner (and whatever torture-filled plans my enemies had for me). So I could attest to how much suck was involved in dying (hint: it didn’t tickle). Not to mention that, if I did die, it meant losing Kim all over again. I wouldn’t,
couldn’t,
let that happen—at least not without a fight.

I grunted as a sliver of glass sank into the back of my arm. First things first—I needed a shield. I held my hand up to protect my eyes and did a quick scan of the alley. The Dumpster, while sturdy, was sliding around, making it way too hazardous to hide behind. Kim’s car, on the other hand, would provide the perfect shelter from the glass storm. Using the last of my strength, and with one arm shielded over my head, I half shimmied, half crawled toward the Trans Am. My leg bumped something along the way and a glance showed me it was the clawed ninja, motionless, on the ground. I kicked him in the stomach as I crawled by. It may or may not have been an accident.

Inch by inch, I pushed myself through the beating wind and pelting glass. It wasn’t until the Trans Am’s back bumper was several feet away that I thought I might actually make it. But the first squeal of rubber against asphalt told me just how wrong I was.

I didn’t believe it at first when the car shuddered. I thought my flying hair and the wind had distorted my vision. I mean, sure, it was windy enough to move the Dumpster, but a car weighs a lot more, right? There was no way my ki had gathered enough power to move a car. But no sooner had the thought passed through my mind than the Trans Am’s brakes released a toe-curling shriek and the car began rolling toward me.

Son of hibachi!
I tried to stand, but my knees buckled. Not only was I immediately blown over but more glass pelted my body. As I fell onto my back, the glass protruding from my arms dug farther into my skin. My head hit the ground, and I heard a crack. Could have been more breaking glass. Could have been my skull. Either way, it hurt like a mother. If I didn’t move—like
now
—I was going to be Rileigh Martin, human speed bump—not exactly an ideal obituary article. I pushed up onto my hands and feet and attempted crab-crawling backward.

The Trans Am picked up speed.

I tried moving faster, but my body refused to respond. Another foot and my back met with something hard. Twisting my head, I looked to see what was blocking my path. The Dumpster. My heart fell into my stomach. I didn’t have enough time to move around it. The Trans Am was only seconds away.

Okay, Rileigh, you have one shot at this. Make it count.
I flattened myself to the ground, ignoring the sting of asphalt and glass that bit into my back and legs. Maybe I’d get lucky and the car would pass over with me safely between the tires. Maybe I’d miscalculated and would be crushed.

Either way, I closed my eyes.