Senshi (A Katana Novel) Read online

  Q stepped around him and gave me a quick hug. “You should get going.”

  I stood limp in his arms, too shocked to hug back and unable to tear my eyes from Whitley, whose head rolled lazily on his shoulders.

  He smiled back at me with a crooked grin. “I guess you’re going to leave now. Good luck and stuff. Try not to get killed because I really don’t want to die.” He leaned back on his arms, tilting his head to the sky, and started whistling.

  I backed out of Q’s grip. “What the hell did you do to him?”

  He shrugged. “I altered his serotonin levels. For the next couple of hours, he shouldn’t have a care in the world.”

  “Wow.” I blinked at him. “That’s a pretty neat trick.”

  “Did you guys ever notice that the stars kinda look like shuriken?” Whitley asked, averting our attention back to him. “It’s almost like the sky is full of fighting ninja.” He waved his hands in front of him shouting, “Hiya!” like a cheesy kung fu movie martial artist.

  I shook my head slowly. “Wow … just wow.”

  “See?” Q placed his hands on his hips and smiled. “I’m not so helpless.”

  I looked at him. “I never thought you were helpless.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Maybe not helpless. But you thought I was a liability.”

  I wanted to argue but, the truth was, I couldn’t. He was right. I’d been terrified he’d get hurt. But just now he’d taken down one of the most dangerous samurai I knew with just a touch. Shame burned hot on my cheeks.

  Q waved a hand in the air. “It’s okay. I understand. I didn’t bring it up to make you feel bad. I just want you to know that you don’t need to babysit me anymore, okay?”

  I nodded.

  Q smiled. “Good. So now you’re going to let me come with you?”

  “I wish you could.” I shook my head. “I’d love nothing more than to have you fight by my side. It’s not that I don’t think you can handle your own. But Sumi told me to come alone. I don’t want to think about what she might do to Kim if I bring backup. I can’t risk it.”

  “I get it.” He sighed and hunched his shoulders. “I just—” He sucked in a breath. “Do me a favor would you?”

  I nodded. “Name it.”

  He hugged me again, this time crushing me against his body. His chest shuddered against my cheek. “Come back alive.”

  50

  Japan, 1492

  Senshi crouched on top of a ledge overlooking the bandits’ camp below. Thin wisps of smoke from dying campfires filtered into the twilight sky.

  “Where are you, Yoshido?” Her fingers grasped the boulder in front of her. He should have been back by now. Senshi shifted her position again, but it did nothing to relieve the rope of tension knotted around her ribs.

  Yoshido never took longer than twenty minutes to sweep through a camp and gather information on the enemy. But it had been more than an hour and a half since he crept down the ledge and into the darkened valley below. Something must have happened.

  Senshi stood and drew her sword. She was done waiting.

  She eased her way down the steep hill, keeping her back to the rock and her sword to her side. The cliff shifted under her foot and she quickly shifted her weight before the rock could pull free and alert the bandits below. If she had to kill every single bandit—and she would if they’d hurt Yoshido—then it was better to have the element of surprise.

  She approached the glowing embers of a dying campfire and spotted a man asleep beside it. Or so she thought until she stepped closer and noticed that his chest didn’t rise or fall in breath. She crouched beside him and pushed his body over, exposing the gaping slash across the man’s neck.

  Senshi smiled. She’d found Yoshido’s trail.

  She wandered deeper into the camp, sticking to the shadow made by the tattered tents. A horse tethered to a tree caught sight of her and snorted in surprise.

  “Who is there?” A man called out from within the closest tent.

  Senshi froze.

  Seconds later the tent flap rustled and fat little man with insect eyes stepped outside. His mouth was pressed into a scowl until he caught sight of her. After, it uncurled into a sinister grin. “Well, well.” He licked his lips and staggered toward her. “Looks like my lucky day.”

  “Not quite.” The stench of alcohol and smoke emanating from him burned Senshi’s nostrils. She held her breath and plunged her sword through his chest.

  His mouth moved, but the only sound he made was a gargled cough. Slowly, his eyes rolled into his head and he slumped to the ground, sliding off of her sword, leaving it coated in blood.

  “Dog,” she muttered. She shook her sword, smattering crimson droplets on the already filthy tent before moving on.

  Twice she encountered corpses bearing clean neck wounds—the telltale signs of a quick and sure dagger. Wherever Yoshido was, she had to be closing in.

  The rest of her journey was a quiet one, except for the drunken snores of bandits from within the tents she passed. But when Senshi reached the center of the camp, she heard two voices—a man’s and a woman’s—arguing.

  Curious, Senshi crept around the corner of another weathered tent only to find a tent several times larger than the ones surrounding it. Instead of the dirty white canvas of the neighboring tents, this one was made of brilliantly woven silk in colors of red and gold. The entrance had previously been guarded by two men, who were now facedown in the blood-splattered grass.

  As the voices within rose in anger, Senshi stepped around the fallen guards. She peeled back the silk curtain door and dared a peek inside. Immediately, she covered her mouth to muffle her gasp.

  But it was too late, both Yoshido and the woman he was arguing with turned their attention to her.

  “Senshi.” Yoshido’s face conveyed both sorrow and surprise.

  Despite the obvious fury burning in her eyes, the woman with Yoshido was more beautiful than any Senshi had seen before. She felt her own cheeks warm as jealousy burned through her blood. Who was this woman that made Yoshido act recklessly enough to forget his stealth and his promise to return to Senshi with haste? Senshi tightened her grip on her sword.

  The woman stepped beside Yoshido and folded her arms across her chest. Despite her frown, her lips had the delicate curve of a rosebud. Her long black hair trailed over the shoulders of her loose, red silk robe. “Who is that?” She glared at Senshi.

  Yoshido lifted his chin. “She is none of your concern.”

  The woman laughed and turned to face him, her robes spinning around her feet. “Some samurai you are—making promises you never intended to keep.”

  “That is a lie!” The tendons along his jaw flexed. “Look at you! Look at what you have become. I only had one betrothed, and she was killed by bandits. You are a bandit.”

  He turned from her and looked at Senshi. “We are going.”

  Senshi nodded, still trying to make sense of their words. Even though a part of her wanted to know what promise Yoshido could have made with a bandit and what it had to do with his dead betrothed, another part of her wanted to get as far away from the camp and this woman as possible. Something about her felt hidden—like the lightning buried inside of a thunderhead. There was more to this woman than there appeared. Something dangerous.

  Yoshido held out his hand and Senshi took it. His fingers tightened around hers to the point of pain. She could feel how much of her strength he needed, and the realization startled her. Until that moment, she’d thought it was her who needed him. She’d needed him to validate her worth as a samurai, she’d needed him to see her as more than a girl from the pleasure district, and she’d needed him to love her even when she felt she didn’t deserve it.

  But something was happening here, something she didn’t understand. And Yoshido needed her to get him through it. Maybe he’d needed her all alo
ng.

  As they turned to leave, the woman cried out, “Wait!” The anger was gone from her voice, replaced by desperation. “Yoshido, no!” She ran up to them and, if it wasn’t for Yoshido shifting his body so it blocked her sword, Senshi couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t have taken the woman’s head off.

  “You cannot leave me.” Tears spilled from her eyes as she fell to her knees at Yoshido’s feet, twisting her hands into his obi. “You promised. You owe me.”

  His eyes narrowed. “My debt to you has been repaid tonight.” He stepped around her but had to stop when her grip on his obi wouldn’t allow him to move farther. “Release me.” His voice was low and dangerous.

  She shook her head. “How can you say that? You have repaid nothing.”

  “You are wrong. On this night, I am walking away from you and allowing you to live. If you want to keep breathing, you will leave this area and never return.” He looked at Senshi and gave a slight nod.

  Senshi nodded back. In one fluid movement, she severed the end of Yoshido’s obi with her katana, barely missing the woman’s fingers and leaving her nothing but a fistful of silk.

  Together, the two of them left the tent to the screams of the woman vowing her revenge behind them.

  51

  I missed the turnoff. Twice.

  “Dang it!” My GPS reprimanded me and I flipped it the bird. Without a single streetlight on the country road, I could barely see more than a couple of feet in front of my car. I pulled onto the shoulder and performed another illegal U-turn. I let off the gas and slowed to a crawl. That’s when I saw it—the gravel road hidden within a row of trees.

  I turned off and followed the winding road until it emerged from the trees and my eyes adjusted to the moonlit-bathed field sprawled before me. As far as I could see, there were no houses, and no other people, only a single wooden barn that cast an eerie glow from light filtering through its worn, wooden planks.

  I stopped my car several yards away and cut the engine. “Awesome,” I mumbled as I opened the door and climbed out. A cool fall breeze sent a chill down my back. Or maybe it wasn’t the cold. I closed my eyes and concentrated. That’s when I realized the sensation rippling over my spine and tickling the hairs on the back of my neck was a premonition of danger. I opened my eyes and sighed. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  I knew I was walking into a trap. The trouble was I couldn’t get a read on how many people waited for me inside. Every time I closed my eyes and tried to feel the place out with my ki, the reading came back fuzzy. Oh well. I guessed it was better I didn’t know. At least then I could assume I was only outnumbered instead of horribly outnumbered. That’s me, Rileigh Martin, eternal optimist.

  I surveyed the surrounding area as I walked a dirt path to the barn. Aside from a chorus of cicadas singing from the trees, no other sound could be heard. But I knew I wasn’t alone. I could feel them. Waiting.

  As I drew closer to the barn, the smells of decaying wood and moldy straw grew stronger. The rotted wooden door hung slightly ajar. Inside I could see a flickering fluorescent bulb illuminating a dust-coated workbench. The shadows surrounding it made it impossible to see anything else. Given the ki buzzing under my skin like an electric charge, odds were a line of shuriken waited to be thrown at my head. I sucked in another breath. I could do this. I had to.

  For Kim.

  I drew my sword from the sheath at my back, pushed the door open with my shoulder, and stepped inside. Instantly, the room filled with blinding white light. No longer certain of my position in the room, I whirled around with my sword raised, ready to defend myself from whatever direction the attack came from.

  But it never did.

  After blinking away the spots dancing in my eyes, I discovered the light came from a motion-detecting flood lamp. Now that I could see, I took in my surroundings. The barn was mostly open. A few beams lined the side wall, supporting a mostly caved-in hay loft. The dirt floor was covered sparsely with damp, moldy hay. Various rusted farm tools lined the wall and something I couldn’t quite make out lay huddled in the far corner beside the workbench.

  Walking slowly with my sword held out in front of me, I approached the object. As I got closer and could make out arms and legs, I realized it wasn’t an object after all.

  “Kim!” I gasped and dropped to the ground beside him.

  My heart leapt inside my throat, threatening to choke me each time I swallowed. Time seemed to freeze in the agonizing seconds it took me to place two fingers to his neck. And that’s when I felt it, a faint ripple beneath my fingers.

  I had to get him out of here.

  I set my sword on the ground, gripped his shoulder, and gave him a firm shake. “Kim!” He didn’t move. I ran my hands down his arms and across his chest, looking for any signs of bruising or bleeding. I found none. So why didn’t he respond to my attempts to wake him up? I shook him harder, which only made his head bobble on his neck. “Kim!” When that didn’t work, I reared back and smacked him hard enough to leave a red imprint on his cheek.

  Nothing.

  Prickling waves of panic raced across my skin like the legs of a hundred spiders. What was wrong with him?

  “You can keep trying, but you’ll never wake him.” A voice spoke from behind me.

  Grabbing my sword, I spun on my knees and rocked to my feet in the same motion. Sumi stood in the doorway dressed in a red silk Japanese robe. Her black hair had been woven into intricate knots and pinned to the top of her head. Sweeping lines of eyeliner rimmed her eyelids, ending in drastic angles at her temples. She looked like a gothic geisha nightmare.

  I held my katana in front of me. “You look … very weird.”

  She smirked.

  “Is that why you’re late?” I positioned myself so I stood between her and Kim. “Working the street corners must be exhausting.”

  Her smile faded. “If you knew who I was, you would not be so bold.”

  I laughed. “Who you were? Please. Do you have any idea how many ninja I’ve killed in my day? You’re no different.”

  She arched a penciled eyebrow. “Aren’t I?”

  She held her hand out and Kim’s spine arched at a drastic angle. His eyes remained closed but his lips curled, revealing teeth clenched in pain. He screamed, an anguished sound that twisted my insides.

  “Stop!” I shouted.

  To my relief, Sumi dropped her hand and Kim lay still, but his breathing remained ragged. She glared at me, her eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. “That is just a taste of what I can do.” She walked to the center of the barn and extended her hand. “Now give me my kanzashi.”

  Son of hibachi. If I gave her Chiyo’s kanzashi, how long would I have until she realized I’d given her the wrong one? What I needed was a plan. And, since I didn’t have one, I’d have to stall until I did.

  “He obviously means nothing to you.” I pointed the tip of my blade at Kim. “So let him go. Then you and I will discuss the kanzashi.” At the very least, I was grateful her real kanzashi sat in a pile of burning rubble. I’d never seen someone wield so much power, and to give her more would have been devastating not just to me but to anyone she came in contact with.

  Her eyes widened. “You think he means nothing to me? Oh, how stupid you are. He means everything! He’s the entire reason I’m doing this. I’m finally setting things right. He was supposed to marry me. Me! But then he met you and discarded me like trash.”

  That was news to me. “You’re lying. Yoshido would never have slummed around with a ninja. The only woman he was betrothed to was Chiyo.”

  She sneered. “I am Chiyo.”

  This was getting more confusing by the minute. “But I thought you were the kunoichi.”

  She stamped her foot impatiently. “I am the kunoichi, you idiot.”

  “No.” I glanced at Kim, wishing he would wake up and explain to me what t
he hell she was talking about. “That’s impossible. Chiyo died. She was killed by bandits. Yoshido mourned for more than a year.”

  She shook her head, a twisted smile on her lips. “Oh, really?” She tsked. “That poor man. But forgive me if I don’t properly appreciate his suffering while he mourned me. Maybe it’s because, during the time he was mourning I was being beaten and raped.” She lifted hear arms and balled her hands into tight fists. The rusted tools began rattling against the wall.

  Oh no. I struggled to swallow past the knot that had risen inside my throat. If what she said was true, if she really was both Chiyo and the kunoichi, that meant I held the key to unleashing her full power in my pocket. With the kanzashi, she’d be unstoppable. The urge to bang my head against the nearest wall was overpowering. Rileigh Martin, you really are an idiot!

  Sumi’s eyes clouded until her irises disappeared behind a milky, white film. “After my father paid my ransom, the bandits told him I was dead. That’s what bandits say when they don’t want a girl’s betrothed to come looking for her. They kept me as their plaything.”

  I felt sick. Even though Sumi was a mega bitch, she didn’t deserve a fate like that. “I’m so sorry, Sumi. I didn’t know.”

  “Maybe not.” Her jaw tightened and she pointed to Kim. “But he did. He snuck into the camp one night looking for the leader of the bandits. And he found the leader—me. I was overjoyed at being reunited with him. But he was disgusted with who I’d become. But what other choice did I have? I seduced the leader of the bandits and slit his throat while he slept. If I hadn’t become their leader, they would have eventually killed me. I did what I had to do in order to survive. But Yoshido wouldn’t listen. He’d already replaced me—with you.”

  Her words hit me like an icy fist to my gut. She was the woman in the bandit camp who had begged Yoshido not to leave. Yoshido knew she was Chiyo and he still walked away. Kim knew Sumi and the kunoichi were one and the same. Which meant Sumi had manipulated Kim’s mind just like she did to Q and the ninjas. Kim hadn’t wanted to break up with me after all! A strange combination of relief and rage burned my blood to a boil. I had to force myself to keep still and not charge her with my blade extended. “So you paid Zeami to lead a band of ninja to kill us all out of revenge.”