Shinobi (A Katana Novel) Read online

  “Now hold on—”

  He cut me off. “In case you’ve forgotten, she’s transcended. If she regains her memory, she’s going to have full use of her powers. Not only will she be able to manipulate minds again, but she’ll be able to do so much worse. Remember your Kentucky fried boyfriend?”

  Bile burned the back of my throat as the memory of Yoshido resurfaced, his sightless eyes staring at me from where he lay sprawled on the ground. The smell of his burnt flesh was so vivid my stomach lurched. “I’d rather not. Thinking about that makes me regret not killing you when I had the chance.” I reflexively cracked my knuckles.

  Whitley held his hands up. “Hey, I was only following orders, not to mention operating with borrowed power. And that’s Sumi’s thing. She likes to get other people to do her dirty work. If she gets her memories back, you won’t know who she’ll send after you or what kind of power they’ll be packing. I don’t know about you, but I kind of like to sleep at night.”

  I relaxed my fingers. He had a point. But still, I couldn’t justify going after someone who was no longer a threat. “I sleep just fine at night. The Network has her under surveillance. If she awakens, trust me, I’ll be the first to know.”

  He snorted. “Forgive me if I’m less than confident in the Network’s abilities. After all, they were all but useless in helping you when Sumi had her ninjas ambushing you at every turn.”

  Another good point. Man, it was annoying how much sense he made today. A tingling sensation crawled along the back of my neck, alerting me that someone was headed our way. I glanced behind me and saw the bleached-blond tips of Q’s head as he wove through the crowd. Son of hibachi.

  I grabbed Whitley’s arm and yanked him behind a nearby SUV. “You’ve got to go. If the other samurai see me talking to you, well, they’re going to be a lot less forgiving.”

  “Rileigh?” Q yelled from the edge of the parking lot.

  I motioned for Whitley to stand still and moved from behind the SUV. “Oh, hey, Q,” I called. “I just ran out here to grab my lip gloss.”

  He frowned. “But you’re parked over there.” He pointed in the opposite direction.

  “Huh. No wonder it’s taking me so long to find my car.”

  He stared at me a long moment without saying anything. Finally, he nodded. “Okay. But hurry up. Your mom’s looking for you. She wants more pictures before we leave.”

  Sure she did. Because the nine hundred she took during the ceremony weren’t enough. “All right. You go on ahead and tell her I’m coming. I’ll just be a minute.”

  He hesitated, frowning, before finally turning around and making his way back into the crowd. Once he was out of sight, I released a long breath and ducked back behind the SUV. Whitley leaned against the hatch with an obnoxious smirk on his lips. I shoved him, more out of fun than necessity. “Okay. You have to go. Now.”

  He stumbled and jerked out of reach before I could shove him again. “Fine. But I want you to consider something. For all we know, Sumi could be faking the amnesia—biding her time until she catches us off guard. Do you really want to give her the opportunity? I just thought if we worked together we’d have the upper hand.”

  Faking her amnesia? A shudder rippled through me. It was a thought I hadn’t even considered. But even so, how would we know for sure? “Whitley, I—”

  “No,” he interrupted. “Don’t answer me right now. Just …think about it.”

  I bit my lip. What if Whitley was right and Sumi was biding her time, waiting for the perfect moment to attack? It was certainly a theory worth investigating.

  Finally, I nodded. “Okay. I’ll think about it. But if it turns out she has her memories, we can’t kill her. I won’t risk Kim’s life. But maybe we could get the Network involved. Maybe we could lock her up for good.”

  He grinned. “It’s a start.” He spun on his heels and walked away.

  “Wait!”

  He glanced at me over his shoulder.

  “How will I get in contact with you?”

  His grin widened. “Don’t you worry. I’ll be close by.” Without waiting for me to respond, he disappeared behind a row of cars. Even though he was out of sight, the sound of his chuckling lingered, giving me the impression I might have agreed to more than I’d bargained for.

  3

  Japan, 1491

  Chiyo sat silently as her friend Miku worked the bronze kanzashi into her hair.

  “Tell me again, Chiyo,” Miku said excitedly as she arranged Chiyo’s hair. “How handsome is he?”

  Chiyo grinned broadly and swiveled on her knees so she could face her friend. “Oh, Miku.” She grabbed Miku’s hands to stop her own from trembling. “He is surely the most handsome of all samurai.” She giggled. “I was so scared when I heard my father arranged my marriage to a warrior. I was certain I would be the wife of war-ravaged old man. But when I spied on him as he spoke to my father … ” She sighed happily. “I am sure he is descended from the Sun God himself.”

  Miku quirked an eyebrow. “My, that is handsome! I cannot wait to see him.”

  “You will not have to wait long.” Chiyo let go of Miku’s hands and tucked a wisp of hair behind her ear. “I overheard Father talking, and the wedding will be soon.” A rush of excitement rolled over her as she considered all the details to be planned. First, her wedding robe, then—

  Miku’s squeal of delight interrupted her thoughts. “What is his name?”

  “Yoshido,” Chiyo answered, relishing the taste of it on her tongue.

  “What a strong name.” Miku sighed.

  “It suits him well,” Chiyo agreed. “You should have seen his muscles.” Chiyo flexed her own small arms in imitation. “I bet he has the strength of six men—no! Ten!”

  Miku laughed, and Chiyo grabbed her hands, pulling her forward until both girls collapsed onto the floor in a giggling heap. When their fit ceased, Miku rolled her head against the floor and looked at Chiyo. “How did you manage to spy on him?”

  Chiyo idly flicked the dangling coral beads of the kanzashi. “I waited until the servant brought them their tea, and I snuck a glance.”

  Miku gasped. “Did your father see?”

  Chiyo made a face. “Of course not! He would be furious. But I think Yoshido saw me. I mean, he looked directly at me.”

  “He saw you!” Miku squeaked. “What was his expression? Did he look madly in love?”

  Chiyo swatted her friend. “Miku, honestly! How does one look in love? He looked like a warrior is supposed to look, I guess—very serious.”

  “Maybe he did not want to alert your father you were there,” Miku offered, “so he could not stare at you longer.”

  Chiyo laughed. “Yes, I suppose that must be it.” But she knew that wasn’t exactly true. Yoshido’s reaction at seeing her had been more than disappointing. Chiyo had smiled at him—but he’d only given her a polite nod in return before turning his attention back to her father. The memory burned through her and killed her laughter. No matter. Even if he hadn’t fallen in love with her at first sight, once they were married, Chiyo was sure she could make him love her. She’d stop at nothing until he did.

  Miku shook her head. “I think you are the luckiest girl alive, Chiyo.” She sighed wistfully.

  Chiyo nodded in agreement. She was to be the wife of a samurai. She’d never want for anything. And she’d have the respect of all. But there was one tiny downside. “Father said I must learn to defend myself.”

  Miku rolled over and blinked at her. “What? Why?”

  Chiyo shrugged. “Father said it is the duty of a samurai wife to defend their household. I’ll also be expected to kill myself should I be taken captive.” She shuddered at the thought of plunging a dagger into her own stomach. “Can you imagine anything so vile?”

  “No,” Miku answered, her eyes wide. “Let us pray that never hap
pens.”

  “It will not. I am sure the training is more ceremonial than reality. I cannot imagine anything so horrible happening with such a strong warrior to protect me.”

  The girls erupted into another fit of laughter.

  From outside Chiyo’s window, a horse cried out, followed by the sound of shouting. The girls stopped giggling and quickly sat up. From the garden, more voices cried out.

  “What do you suppose is going on?” Miku asked.

  Before Chiyo could answer, her door slid open and one of her father’s servants rushed in the room. He closed the door, pressed a hand against his chest, and gulped for breath. “Bandits have breached our walls,” he said between gasps. “We must get you hidden. Immediately.”

  Terror gripped Chiyo’s heart with icy fingers. “What do they want?”

  “You. They must have heard of your arranged marriage and assumed they can get a ransom from your future husband.” The servant ran to the window and surveyed the gardens. He glanced at the girls a moment later. “We are going to have to leave through the window.”

  Miku grabbed Chiyo and tried to pull her forward, but Chiyo dug her heels against the floor. “What about my father?”

  The servant’s face crumpled, and Chiyo had her answer.

  “No.” Chiyo placed her hands over her mouth. He had to have been mistaken. She’d find her father, and he’d be okay—everything was going to be okay.

  Outside the clashing sounds of metal mingled with battle cries.

  “Chiyo, hurry!” Miku’s voice was tight with panic. She waved Chiyo over to the window. “We need to hide!”

  Chiyo glanced at the door. Could she really leave her father? What if he wasn’t dead—only hurt? What if he needed her to take care of him? How could she abandon him?

  “Quickly!” the servant hissed.

  Before Chiyo could move, the door to her room was thrown open and two men entered. The men wore tattered clothing, their skin speckled with blood Chiyo was quite sure was not their own.

  The shorter of the two men stepped forward with a katana drawn. He smiled, revealing a mouth of crooked, yellow teeth. “Which one of you is Chiyo?” he asked.

  A scream bubbled up Chiyo’s throat. But before it could escape, Miku’s hand tightened around Chiyo’s wrist in a vise-like grip, a warning to remain silent.

  “No!” The servant ran in front of the girls and drew a small blade from his obi. “You cannot have her. I will die first.”

  The bandit shrugged. “I am happy to fulfill your request.” Before the servant could move, the bandit lunged forward and drove his blade through the man’s chest.

  Chiyo and Miku both screamed as the servant fell to the floor. He blinked lazily at the ceiling and drew in one long, ragged gasp before growing still. Blood pooled beneath him like a rising tide.

  The bandit shook his blood-stained sword, spotting the floor in dots of crimson. He raised an eyebrow at the girls. “Let us try this again. Which one of you is Chiyo Sasaki?”

  The second bandit pulled an arrow from his quiver and drew it in his bow. He aimed the gleaming tip at the girls. “Answer carefully.”

  Chiyo’s heart thundered inside her head. Beside her, Miku whimpered. This couldn’t be happening. She was only weeks away from having the life she’d always dreamed about. But now, all around her the pieces of her perfect life shattered like porcelain.

  Chiyo glanced at her best friend. Miku stood beside her, pale and trembling in terror. Chiyo knew there was no escape for herself. And since she was sure to lose everything anyway, maybe she could at least save her friend. She gently pried Miku’s clamped fingers off her wrist, took a deep breath, and stepped forward. “I am Chiyo Sasaki.”

  The archer released his arrow. Chiyo gasped and clenched her eyes shut as it flew toward her.

  A second later, instead of feeling the bite of a metal tip into her chest, she heard the thump of something hitting the floor.

  She opened her eyes and found Miku on the ground, staring up at her with sightless eyes. An arrow protruded from her chest.

  “No!” Chiyo shrieked. She fell to the floor and reached for her friend. But before her fingers could graze Miku’s robe, two rough hands grabbed her arms and jerked her to her feet. The world spun around Chiyo as she was dragged through the door and pulled from her house.

  In the span of a couple heartbeats, she’d lost almost everything: her father, her home, and her best friend. Still, she held on to hope as best she could. She still had one thing.

  Yoshido. He was a samurai. Her samurai.

  Chiyo swallowed the sobs clawing up her throat as she was thrown on top of a horse.

  Yoshido would come for her. He would avenge her father’s death and make these men pay. Chiyo was sure of it. Samurai, after all, were men of honor. There was no way he’d let her down.

  4

  Aren’t you so excited about college?” The girl standing in front of me pulled a strand of long brown hair over her shoulder and twisted it around her finger. I’d spent the last five minutes trying to remember her name and kept coming up blank. I thought it started with an L—Linda? Laura?

  “I’m going to Michigan State,” she continued. “I cannot wait! I think I want to major in political science, or maybe marketing.” She smiled expectantly, as if waiting for my approval on her life choices.

  Okay then. I’d play along if it made her go away.

  I forced a smile to my lips. “That’s great. There’s, uh, a lot of good career opportunities in those fields.” I had no idea if that was true. My eyes darted to the clock on the wall. How much longer could I keep this conversation up without revealing I had no idea what her name was? We took history together last year, but that was the extent of our relationship. For the life of me, I couldn’t understand why she’d shown up at my graduation party. But after glancing around the room, I realized there were quite a few people here I didn’t know.

  Huh. Maybe I wasn’t the social leper Carly, Quentin’s twin sister, always insisted I was. But the more likely answer was they’d come because Debbie, my mom, had sprung for catering, giving me the only party with a taco bar.

  “Rileigh?”

  When I looked back at my former classmate, her eyebrows were raised, like she was waiting for the answer to a question. Crap. I tried pulling my smile wider. “I’m sorry. Today’s been so exciting I just can’t seem to stop my head from spinning. What was your question?”

  She waved a hand in the air. “Trust me, I understand. I only asked where you’re going to go to school.”

  My cheeks twitched, an ache building along my jaw from the strain of keeping the smile in place. “Oh, I’m staying local.”

  Her smile melted. “You’re staying in St. Louis? Why?”

  God, I was so tired of that question—the same one Debbie asked me nearly every day. Before my mom became a talent agent, she’d spent her teen years as a model traveling the globe. She loved to lecture me about how important she thought it was for people to travel before they settled down. It wasn’t that I didn’t have the option to go away. I’d received acceptance letters from schools on both coasts. A year ago, I would have jumped at the chance to embark on a new adventure across the country. Exploring the globe was something Yoshido and I once talked about doing a lifetime ago—but we’d never had the chance. Now it didn’t look like we’d have one in this life either.

  A lump formed in my throat, and I struggled to swallow it down. Maybe it was stupid to stay for a guy who might never remember me—remember us. But I couldn’t give up on him … not yet. I didn’t expect anyone to understand, so I’d found the best explanation was the shortest. “The college I’m going to has a really great criminal justice program—”

  She made a startled sound. “You want to be a cop?”

  I didn’t know what I wanted. But since I was actively involved in t
he secret government agency known as the Network, it was the only thing that made sense. “Um, something like that … ”

  Her mouth dropped in horror. “But you’re a girl.”

  “Last time I checked.” I looked over my shoulder and, as luck would have it, Q glanced up from the taco bar across the room. Help me, I mouthed before turning around, the fake smile firmly in place.

  “That’s crazy, Rileigh. You’re so small. Do you really think you’d stand a chance if some guy attacked you? You’d die!”

  This time I didn’t bother to stop the smile from sliding off my face. “Gender and size have nothing to do with a person’s ability to fight. A warrior’s strength lies within the heart,” I added, quoting my past-life mentor, Lord Toyotomi. “Don’t you remember what happened to me last summer when I was attacked by those muggers in the mall parking lot?” I would have been surprised if she didn’t. The incident made the news, and the entire school talked about nothing else for several weeks afterward. “I handled them just fine.”

  “Ohhhh. I get it. This is one of those post-traumatic stress things, right? You have something to prove?” She patted my shoulder sympathetically. “Don’t worry, Rileigh. I’m sure you’ll get it all figured out. You have two years before you really have to decide on a major.”

  I nearly choked. Why was it people assumed if a girl wanted to take on the job of a warrior or a fighter she must have some sort of brain injury? My fingers tightened into fists, and a familiar tingling sensation pulled across my chest as my ki flared to life.

  “I see I’ve arrived just in time!” Q looped an arm around my neck. “I’m sorry to interrupt your conversation, but Rileigh is urgently needed in the kitchen. Some sort of chips-and-dip crisis.”

  The girl stuck out her lip in a pout. “That’s too bad. It was really great catching up with you. We’ll have to exchange emails so we can stay in touch.”

  Before I could answer, Q yanked me toward the hallway. “Don’t you worry. Rileigh’s excellent about keeping in touch.” He turned his head and whispered in my ear, “With her fists.”