Senshi (A Katana Novel) (5 page)

8

A
daimyo was the ruling lord of a village. In my previous life in Japan, Lord Toyotomi had been that man. But to call him
just
a ruler was like calling Tony Hawk
just
a skater. Lord Toyotomi had been my teacher, my counselor, and the closest thing to a father I ever had. Like me, he’d been gifted with the ability to manipulate ki. And he was the one who taught me to understand and use that power to my advantage.

If I had any hope of doing so again, it seemed only logical that I should start with his teachings. And rule number one for controlling ki? Meditation. Easy to do when you’re in a silent courtyard surrounded by cherry trees and koi ponds. Not so easy in the middle of a city full of sirens and flashing lights.

Don’t get me wrong, our new downtown St. Louis loft was nice, but it didn’t feel like home. Despite the fact they were tinted on the outside, the floor-to-ceiling windows that made up an entire wall of my room left me feeling exposed. Debbie said the new location was only temporary, until we could find a house. The problem was her job as a talent agent and Dr. Wendell’s constant (and annoying) presence kept her too busy to look.

After tossing my backpack next to the bed, I placed several incense cones on a ceramic plate on my desk and lit them, hoping the citrus smell of satsuma would calm me. But city life made that nearly impossible. As a trained warrior, I couldn’t unwind—as much as I tried—surrounded by steel towers and mechanical noise. In other words, a place of dead energy.

So, yeah, the meditation wasn’t going so well.

But I still had to try.

The entire school had been evacuated thanks to my handiwork in the chem lab. That meant I had four hours of uninterrupted meditation before I had to leave for training with Kim and the other samurai.

I unrolled my yoga mat and plopped down with my legs crossed. After putting my earbuds in, I picked up my iPhone and a pang of guilt washed over me as I scrolled through my playlists.

I knew I should call Kim and tell him about my incident, but I couldn’t bring myself to pull up his number. It wasn’t that I wanted to hide what happened. I just wasn’t in the mood for a repeat of the conversation we’d had every day for the last three weeks. The
CliffsNotes
looked like this: I’d tell Kim about my latest ki-related accident and he’d get all broody and frowny-faced. Then I’d ask if he had any leads on the ninja. He’d say no and get even broodier and more frowny-faced. Then he’d launch into his PowerPoint presentation on all the various ways I should be careful because there were ninja after me. Meanwhile, I’d smile and nod, but would actually be wondering if October was too late to keep highlighting my hair platinum or if it was time to darken it with the changing leaves to a honey color.

Yeah, I’d tell him later.

I found my meditation playlist and hit play. Instantly the sound of crashing waves filled my head and unraveled the coils of tension in my shoulders. I brought my palms together in prayer pose.

After several minutes of sucking in deep, even breaths, I closed my eyes and fell into the darkness behind them. Two lifetime’s worth of memories waited for me. I don’t know how long I pushed through the flashes of images, searching for the one I wanted, but it only felt like seconds until I found it.

And just like that, I was there. Seeing, through closed eyes, a memory so vivid I could almost smell the blossom-scented oil Etsu drizzled across my skin and feel the pointed blade nestled into the folds of my robe.

9

Japan, 1491

A
fter Etsu had left her alone in her room, Akiko threw up twice and tried to mask the smell by burning incense. A cup of lukewarm tea bobbled in her shaking hands. A cup she promptly dumped in her lap when the sliding doors shoved open.

The samurai looked only a few years older than Akiko. This was good, she thought. Some girls had to service old men, a possibility that made her stomach lurch. But when the boy smiled, Akiko’s relief vanished. His eyes held a predator’s hunger that had nothing to do with desire.

The crack of the door sliding shut vibrated through Akiko’s bones. With shaking hands, she tried to bury the tea-soaked silk of her robe beneath dry folds, lest the samurai find her clumsy and demand his money back. But as Akiko reached for the fallen teacup, a hand snatched her wrist and pulled her roughly to her feet
.

“Forget the tea.” The boy’s voice held the edge of a threat. “Now is my time. You will concern yourself only with me.” He encircled her body with his arms, leaving no room for escape, and ran his lips along her neck. Akiko gasped and instinctively pressed a hand against the samurai’s chest, trying to wedge free from his grip. This only made him laugh and hold her tighter.

The other courtesans had told her that the first time, while painful, was usually fast. They told her not to be afraid because the men paid more for the privilege than the pleasure. But each passing second in the boy’s arms felt like an eternity. Taking a breath, she closed her eyes and swallowed the acid burning the back of her tongue. Maybe if she could imagine herself somewhere, anywhere else, she could get through this. Akiko tried to conjure the fields where she gathered flowers with her younger sister and the market square she ran through with her best friend, Haruki. But the samurai’s breath, hot and sour on her neck, broke her concentration. The faces of the people she loved vanished, leaving her alone in the dark.

This is an honor,
Akiko reminded herself.
This is all part of being a highly respected and well-paid woman of pleasure. The benefits are worth the sacrifice.
But when a hand pulled at the corner of her robe, Akiko could no longer believe her own lie. It was then she realized she’d rather be a beggar on the streets than the recipient of this particular
honor.
She opened her eyes and twisted out of his arms. “Please,” she whispered. “There has been a mistake. I-I cannot do this.”

The boy smiled. “Oh, yes, you can.” He reached for her shoulder and pushed her to the ground. “And for the price I paid, more than once.”

His words unwound something inside of her. Despite the fresh bruise from her fall and the pain coursing through her leg, Akiko could only feel the slow rise of anger as it burned through her veins. “You cannot do this if I do not allow it.”

His laugh was quick and harsh. “I am a samurai. I can do anything I want.” He leaned on top of her, pinning her to the floor, and slid his calloused fingers down the front of her robe.

Akiko shuddered, bile fresh on her tongue. “I will scream.”

His breath came out faster. “It is your first time. I think they expect you to.” His hand moved lower.

The sour smell of the sweat that beaded along his skin made Akiko dizzy. She sucked in air through her mouth as she fumbled a hand inside of her robe. She knew if she fought him she’d be cast out of her home, arrested, maybe even worse. But none of that mattered. She’d choose death a thousand times over rather than let the smelly, sweaty, foul-mouthed samurai have his way with her.

As his hand moved lower, almost to the curve of her breast, she found what she’d been searching for. There was no going back.

Before his fingers could grope her further, Akiko slid the curved dagger from its hiding place and pressed it against his cheek. He froze.

In a voice barely louder than a whisper, she said, “You
will
get off me.”

He didn’t move. “You cannot be serious.” His eyes widened in disbelief. “If you go through with this, I will have your head for a trophy.”

To prove how serious she was, Akiko dug the knife into his skin until he gasped and a thin line of blood trickled along the blade. “You will get off me,” she repeated. “That was not a request.”

Slowly, he removed his hands from her robe and backed away. His eyes burned with rage.

Akiko stood, keeping the knife in front of her. To her surprise, her grip on the weapon remained sure and unwavering. “You will leave me. Now.”

His hands balled into fists that trembled at his sides. “You have no idea what you have just done.” With blood trailing down his cheek in a steady stream, he spun on his heels, whipping his robes behind him, and left.

But he wasn’t gone long.

An hour later he returned with two of the daimyo’s guards to place Akiko under arrest for assaulting a samurai. There was only one punishment for such a crime.

Death.

10

I
slid my sunglasses on so Quentin couldn’t see my clenched-shut eyes. We were about to cross the Jefferson Barracks Bridge that would take us into Illinois, and I couldn’t bear to watch. Being a samurai, the list of things that scared me was short, but Quentin’s driving made the top.

A semi truck’s engine grumbled, shaking the Mini Cooper as Quentin weaved into the next lane. A car honked to the right of me and I tightened my already white-knuckled grip on the seatbelt.

“Learn to drive!” Quentin yelled before swerving the car to the left.

I opened my eyes to find us narrowly missing the car in front of us. “Q!” My throat was so tight with fear I practically had to spit out his name. “I didn’t live through a ninja attack only to have you kill me in a car accident.”

He rolled his eyes and waved his hand dismissively. The Mini veered toward a tow truck until he brought his hand back to the wheel and steadied the car in its lane. “Please. I’m the only one on the road who knows
how
to drive. You should thank me for keeping you alive.”

“You better hope you do, because if you kill me, I’m totally haunting your ass.”

He laughed. “You know what your problem is, Ri-Ri?”

“My best friend is a reincarnated stunt-car driver?”

“No. You’re too stressed out.”

I settled back against my seat. “Understatement of the year.”

“You should try meditating.” Quentin flipped on his blinker a nanosecond before turning onto the off ramp. “It’s been proven that people who meditate can actually move brain waves from the stress-housing right frontal cortex to the calmer left frontal cortex.”

“Uh-huh.” I was glad Quentin couldn’t see me roll my eyes under the dark shades. “For your information, I tried meditating after school today. It just … didn’t go so well.” I thought about the memories I’d resurfaced and how they left me anything but relaxed. “Anyway, I can see you’re enjoying your birthday present.”

He nodded. “Yes, thank you.”

For Quentin’s birthday I’d renewed his subscription to
Psychology Today
. I supported his dream of becoming the world’s next great psychologist. That was, when he wasn’t trying to psychoanalyze me.

Quentin whipped the car around a corner at breakneck speed, forcing me to close my eyes. I didn’t open them again until I heard gravel crunching under the tires, signaling our arrival at the Waterloo Community Park.

In the Midwest, we only have four months out of the year when the outdoors isn’t covered in ice or hot enough to melt the mascara off my lashes. October is one of those months, so Kim decided we should take advantage of the cooler temperatures and train outside.

Quentin parked his Mini next to Kim’s silver Trans Am and my pulse jumped into my throat, like it did every time he was near. It’d been that way between us since the moment we first laid eyes on each other in Lord Toyotomi’s courtyard. Five hundred years later and my skin still tingled from the familiar pull that drew me to him like a wave to the shore.

I hesitated before unbuckling my seatbelt, noticing that Quentin had turned off the ignition but made no move to leave. Instead, his fingers thrummed nervously against his legs. “Um, are you okay?”

He nodded but didn’t say anything. I followed his gaze to where Kim and the others were stretching under the shade of a large oak tree.

I placed my hand over his drumming fingers, which froze under my touch. “You don’t have to be nervous, you know. It’s not like this is your first time training with us. You’re a total natural, and you’re getting better all the time.”

“Who said I was nervous about training?” he snapped. His head swiveled and his eyes met mine. “Maybe I was just scouting the scene for fire hazards.” He pointed to his eyebrows. “Can’t be too careful, after all.”

I recoiled against the seat like I’d been slapped. It wasn’t like I didn’t deserve what he’d said to me—it was just that Quentin had never spoken to me like that before. His eyes remained fixed on me, with something so much more than anger burning through them. “Q, I … ” But I couldn’t think of the words that would make things better.

But just as quickly as he turned on me, his face softened. “Rileigh, oh my God, I didn’t mean it.” He pressed a hand to his temple. “I have this killer headache, and it’s making me a little crazy. I swear, I don’t know what got into me. Can you forgive me?”

My lungs tightened, refusing to move air. I thought I’d choke on my words before I forced them off my tongue. “Forgive
you
? After what I did?” I twisted toward the window so he wouldn’t see how much trouble I had trying to breathe. If Q was angry with me, I could handle that—I could make it right. But if it was something worse? What if he was afraid of me? “Q, I promise you that I’m going to do whatever it takes to get this ki thing under control.” And then, after a pause, I added, “We’re cool, aren’t we?”

“Totally.” He gave me a strained smile and shrugged. “Why would you even ask?”

Oh, I don’t know,
I thought.
Because some invisible wedge has been driven between us. Because, even though we’re sitting in the same car, I feel like you’re miles away.
But with the words unwilling to fall from my tongue, all I could do was shrug.

“Dork.” He reached over and ruffled my hair, a familiar gesture that made me feel a smidge better. He opened his mouth but before the words came out, someone tapped against my window.

Startled, I looked over my shoulder to find Kim smiling at me. Instantly a slow flame burned through me, starting at my toes and ending at my fingertips. You’d think that some of the intensity would wear off after time, but it never did. My breath still caught in my throat, my fingers still curled into fists to resist the urge to reach for him, and I had trouble blinking for fear of having him out of my sight for even a millisecond.

A seatbelt unclicked beside me. “See you on the field,” Quentin said. “It looks like we’re holding things up.”

Way to go, Rileigh.
I scrambled to release my own seatbelt. I couldn’t afford to go all starry-eyed at the same moment I was trying to repair my friendship with Quentin. Besides, I knew Kim wouldn’t mind if I spent less time with him and more time with Q. Kim and I were soul mates, after all.

Now that we were together, there was nothing that could come between us.