Katana (33 page)

“I paid him to test you, to see if there really was a warrior hiding inside that shallow brain of yours.” He laughed. “You always were more trouble than you’re worth. I had to pay extra because I promised him you’d be unarmed. How was I to know a homeless woman would pepper spray him?”

I would have given anything to punch him. But then, I would have settled for a good spit, scream, or stomping of his face. All I managed was a grunt.

He shook his head and snapped out of his trance. “You’re right.” He smiled and pulled my shirt back into place. “There is much to do.”

I needed more time. I tried to form words and failed. I tried again and managed a mumble.

“What’s that?” Whitley laughed.

“Kim is going to find me.” There. It was barely a whisper, but I took satisfaction in the way Whitley startled at the mention of Kim’s name.

“Shut your mouth!” He reached back and struck my face with his open hand.

Through the sharp twinges that laced up my face, I felt hope. I was getting sensation back! The problem lay in figuring out what to do with my discovery.

“Kim won’t save you,” Whitley said. “That fool is following a planted trail to an abandoned warehouse where Tony will be waiting for him. By the time Kim figures it out, either Tony will have killed him or I’ll already have my power back and it won’t matter.”

So that was it. He was a Noppera-bō. But that didn’t explain why. Why would he go through so much trouble and hurt so many people for my power? Just so he could kill Kim and the others? The thought ignited the rage in my stomach until it boiled over and bled into my veins. My fingers tingled.

Whitley sucked in a deep breath. “You’re distracting me.” He got up and walked out of the room. Moments later, I heard water running from the bathtub faucet. After several minutes, Whitley reappeared next to my bed. “There.” He dusted his hands together. “I’ve placed the herbs in the bath for your cleansing. You see, you stink of Kim, and his essence could contaminate the ceremony.” He grunted as he hoisted me over his shoulder. “You’d think after five hundred years the guy could wear a different cologne.”

As he carried me down the hall, I tried to ignore the razor-edged knot of fear rolling around inside of my stomach and instead focused on my anger. That above all else seemed to help me overcome the effects of the drugs. I could now clench my hands into loose fists. If I could stall Whitley long enough to gain control of my body, I might be able to fight back. First I had to get through whatever he had planned next.

Whitley stepped into the bathroom. Under other circumstances, the scene that awaited me might have looked inviting. The calming scent of lavender wafted from the flickering candles positioned around the tub and sink, bathing the dark room in an orange glow. Whitley left the lights off as he took me to the edge of the tub, where I could see an assortment of colored flower petals and leaves floating in the dark water. He leaned over and, despite my attempt not to, I flinched. Whitley hesitated and I held my breath, hoping he wouldn’t decide to inject me with any more drugs. He dumped me, fully clothed, into the scalding water.

My scream was mangled from the water that scoured my throat.

“Okay, now the directions say we need to rinse and repeat.” Whitley laughed. “But seriously, we need to submerge you.” I barely had time to suck in a breath before he knotted a fist into the back of my hair and yanked me underwater.

The heat seared my face, but I managed to remain still. I tested my strength by making another fist underwater. It was stronger, but I still needed more time.

Whitley pulled me out of the water and I resurfaced with a gasp. “Such a pain in the ass, these rituals,” he mumbled. “Now I’m going to get all wet.” He sighed dramatically as he lifted me from the tub. Dripping water as he went, he carried me back into my room and dropped me on my bed. “Wait here,” he said with another laugh. “I need to grab some things from the other room.”

Alone, I decided it was a good time to take inventory of my physical capabilities. I balled my hand into a tight fist. That was good. I leaned forward and propped myself up on my elbows. That was better. As I heard his footsteps returning to my room, I quickly laid back in my original position. I just needed a few more minutes.

“It’s almost time,” Whitley sang from outside my door. He appeared moments later and sat down next to me on my sopping bedspread. “Soon we’ll invoke your transcending.” He stroked my wet hair, and my muscles resisted the urge to squirm under his hand. “You’re just as lovely in this life as you were in the past.” He stopped playing with my hair and ran his thumb down the length of my cheek. “It’s almost romantic, don’t you think? Finally the two of us will be together, joined as one for all eternity.” He shrugged. “Your death is really such a small price to pay for all of that.”

My eyes widened as I considered this new twist. Joined together?

Whitley hushed me like he was soothing a small child. “Don’t be afraid. Only your body will die. You will continue to live inside of me. Your transcending will join us forever, from this life until the next.” His eyes glittered with excitement. “You will be mine forever. I will have your power and you will have my love.”

38

T
hat did it. I was already teetering on the edge of hysteria, but the thought of living through this psychopath, even the smallest part of me—well, I’d rather die. I brought my legs into my chest and thrust them forward, savoring the look of shock on Whitley’s face as he collided against my dresser. The toaster that started this whole thing leaned on its side before it crashed against his skull.

“Son of a … ” Whitley rubbed the top of his head as he struggled to get up. “Okay, have it your way. We’ll dance before you die.”

“I’ll lead,” I growled. I pushed myself off the bed and onto my feet, careful not to fall as the room tilted through my staggering vision.

Whitley smiled. “You never fail to disappoint.” He slipped his polo shirt over his head and discarded it on the floor. It was the first time I’d seen him without a shirt collar, and I couldn’t help but notice a faint pink line that stretched across the length of his neck. Whitley smiled at my startled expression. “My neck? Would you like to know what happened?”

“Not really.” I narrowed my eyes and lifted my fisted hands up in a defensive stance.

Whitley ignored me. “I was given power. Great power.” His eyes flashed. “It was payment. All I had to do was provide ninja access to Toyotomi’s mansion, kill you, and deliver Yoshido to my benefactor.” His smile was cruel. “Of course, that’s not what happened. Oh no. The noble Yoshido took the death blow that was meant for you. My benefactor was infuriated, blaming me for his death.” The smile fell from his face. “I was beheaded. Did you know that when you are beheaded, you don’t die instantly? No, it’s not that easy. Instead, you slowly watch the world swim away as you gasp for breath that never comes.” He lashed out with his hand and sent the picture of Quentin and me hurtling against the wall, where it shattered. “Your chest burns, as if on fire. But of course your chest isn’t really there. It’s maddening!”

He was insane! My vision swam, and I shook my head to clear it. If I didn’t get over the effects of the drugs, I was dead for sure.

Whitley held up his hands and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he smiled. “Never mind that. The past is the past.” He held a hand out to me. “Now, I believe you offered me a dance.”

On many levels I knew that fighting Whitley was not a good idea. First, the drugs were not completely out of my system. Second, Whitley was a psycho. Third, I hadn’t transcended yet and was not really in any condition to be fighting an experienced samurai. But if I didn’t at least try, my future held certain death.

He grinned as if he could read the doubts floating through my mind. “What’s the matter, my love?” He stretched his arms in front of him, then settled back into a fighting stance. “Do you not remember the steps? Don’t worry. I’ll remind you.”

His speed surprised me. Or maybe the drugs were affecting my reaction time. Either way, he was upon me before I realized he had moved.

As I stumbled backward, a pair of discarded sweatpants ensnared my foot, pulling me down onto my knees at the exact moment Whitley’s fist went soaring over my head. Thank God I’d missed a few things during my clean-up. I scrambled forward on my hands, only to have Whitley grab the waist of my jeans. I twisted in his bony grip and kicked out, making contact with the knee he used to block his groin.

Whitley laughed. “You’re nothing of the warrior
I remember.”

My fear mixed with the drugs left my throat parched. “Maybe that’s because you drugged me!” I croaked.

He reached forward and snatched my hair, pulling me roughly to my feet. He wrenched my head back and hissed into my ear. “Even so. I always thought that Toyotomi made too much of a fuss over you and Yoshido.”

“Kim is twice the warrior you’ll ever be.” I thrust my elbow back, making contact with his gut.

He released me as he doubled over. “Bitch!” He lifted his head and glared at me with watery eyes. “Don’t you dare speak that name in my presence again.” He launched forward and grabbed my wrist, spinning me so that my back was against his chest. He slipped his right arm under my arm and across my shoulders, pinning my neck in a painful downward angle. He pulled tighter, forcing a grimace to my lips. “We will soon be one, and together
we
will be twice the warrior. And this time, Kim will not be able to save you.” He thrust me to the floor.

My knee took the impact, sending needles of pain up and down my leg. “Even if he doesn’t save me, Kim will still kill you.”

“Not if we kill him first.”

I kicked out, but Whitley caught my shoe between his hands before I could strike. He twisted it sharply, and I found myself balanced against the floor on my outstretched hands.

“When will you learn?” Whitley snarled before he brought his foot down on my back, knocking my chest against the floor and the air from my lungs.

I lay there for a moment, breathing heavily and trying to figure out how I was going to escape.

He chuckled from behind me. “Why do you insist on fighting me? It’s our destiny to be together. Why don’t you see that?”

“I’d rather die.”

“That
is
the point.”

I reached under my bed and grabbed the first thing I could find: one of Debbie’s boots that I’d worn on our date. Perfect. I twisted onto my back and threw it at him.

He stumbled back when the pointed heel cracked against his forehead. “Son of a bitch!” he screamed, rubbing furiously at the red welt.

I pulled myself to my feet using the side of my bed and planted a right hook into his temple.

He blinked several times before slowly turning his gaze back to me. Rage burned like wildfire in his eyes. “This is getting old,” he whispered. He grabbed the front of my shirt and pulled me into him. I braced myself for impact, but it never came. Instead, he fisted his other hand through my hair and shoved his lips against mine.

With a muffled scream, I struggled in his grip, but it only made him pull me that much closer. When I felt his narrow tongue pry against my clenched teeth, I promptly bit down on the tip until I could taste his blood, sweet and metallic, on my tongue.

He slapped me hard enough to make my vision swim in colorful dots. Dizzy, I fell back to the floor.

“You little tease.” He smiled, licking his lips. A small line of blood had trailed down his chin, and he wiped it away with the back of his hand, inspecting the smeared blood on his fingers. “It feels just like old times.” Whitley leaned over and twisted his fist into the front of my shirt. With a rough tug, he jerked me back to my feet.

Still dizzy, I teetered to the side and onto the bed, where he let me fall.

“No more distractions.” He looked around the room, a slow smile curling onto his lips when he spotted what he was looking for. “Aha! This will do nicely.” He walked over to my open closet and plucked my leather belt off the floor. He walked back over to me, snapping the leather together with a crack. “This should hold you.”

Icy waves of panic flooded my veins. I couldn’t let myself be tied up. With the little strength I had left, I pushed myself from my bed only to meet the back end of Whitley’s striking hand. My vision swam in waves of black as I desperately tried to remain conscious.

“This would be so much easier on the both of us if you would just stop fighting!”

He twisted my arms behind me and secured them with my belt. He looped the leather around my wrists so tightly that I could feel it biting into my skin. Finally, when my head felt like it had stopped spinning and I found I was able to move again, I could do little more than struggle in place and scream out in frustration.

“Shh,” Whitley whispered in my ear as I thrashed. I did manage to roll over and fall off the bed, landing hard onto my already-sore shoulder. Whitley shrugged as he turned and walked out of the room. He returned moments later with the same cardboard box he had taken the syringe from.

My stomach did a cartwheel.

Whitley caught sight of my expression and laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m not getting out any more needles. A lot of good that did me, anyway.” He rummaged through the box. “Let’s see, next we need the herbs. Ah, here it is!” He pulled out a small glass jar filled with an oily brown paste. He opened the jar and grabbed a small basting brush from the box. “This mixture will help open your chakras,” he said, “and ease the transfer of power.”