Senshi (A Katana Novel) (15 page)

31

I
sank into the movie theater seat and tried to avoid touching the sticky armrests. It had been a week since my last run-in with the ninja and, given that I was no closer to stopping their attacks, a movie felt like the last place I should be. “I don’t know why we’re here,” I told Quentin, who happily slurped a cherry ICEE. “I hate this theater. I hate this actress. I hate this movie.” I folded my arms across my chest. “I hate my life.”

Quentin spit out his straw and looked at me. “I gotta say, this new emo thing you’re doing? Not working for you.” He grabbed a bag of licorice and held it out to me. “Twizzler?”

I wrinkled my nose. “I hate Twizzlers.”

He dropped the bag into my lap. “No you don’t.”

I sighed, pulled out a Twizzler, and bit into it. “No, I don’t.” I knew I should appreciate what Q was trying to do. But between breaking up with my boyfriend and the ninja assassination attempts, going to the movies just seemed stupid. And, because I was a glutton for punishment, I called Michelle to invite her to go with us. But she never picked up and never returned my calls. Apparently, the freeze-out of Rileigh Martin was in full force. I could only guess Michelle and the other samurai didn’t want to get caught in the middle of the breakup. I understood that reasoning, but it didn’t make it sting any less.

At least Q had let me pick the seats—a dark corner in the very back row. I’d received several dirty looks from couples coming in late—they’d wanted their make-out corner and I’d wanted a vantage point where I didn’t have to worry about any sneak attacks. My life sucked.

I twirled a piece of licorice in my hand. At the very least, I should be happy that Q was acting like himself. The only weird part of his behavior was how insistent he was to see this particular romantic comedy—which was
so
not our thing. Especially not with the latest bloody action flick playing one theater over. “Are you sure you don’t want to sneak into
The Face Punch of Death
?”

Q shook his head and put a finger to his lips. “Shh. I think the movie is about to start.”

I faked a gag and settled back into my seat. If the onscreen kiss-fest made me barf, I was so aiming for Q’s lap.

He stirred his ICEE with his straw. “Being here is good for you. You’ve been surrounded by enough pain and violence, you don’t need to watch a movie about it. I’m putting an end to your pity party.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Please. I’m not having a pity party.”

“Oh really?” He held out his hand. “Hand over your phone. I want to see if you’ve added any new music stations to Pandora.”

“Um.” I fidgeted in my seat, hoping he couldn’t read the guilt on my face. He totally had me there. But wasn’t crying along to angsty music one of the steps for recovering from a bad breakup? Surely Q couldn’t fault me for that. Although, maybe I shouldn’t have named my newly created emo station—

“Kim,” Q said.

The licorice I’d been chewing on dangled from my mouth. “How did you—” But I stopped when I realized Q hadn’t been reading my mind. He wasn’t even looking at me, but instead staring at something at the front of the theater. I followed his line of sight and realized it wasn’t a
something
but a
someone
.

Kim.

Son of hibachi.
My stomach dropped from my body and landed somewhere between the center of the Earth and China.

He stood at the base of the stairs holding a bottle of water in one hand and a soda in the other. He hadn’t looked in our direction yet, so as far as I knew, he didn’t know I was here.

Quentin reached for my hand and squeezed my fingers a little too tightly to be comforting.

The licorice fell from my mouth onto my lap. “Oh God,” I whispered. This was the last thing I needed. I could pretend as much as I wanted that I was doing better, that Kim pushing me out of his life hadn’t ripped my heart into ribbons of flesh. But not when he was in the same room as me, breathing in my air until I felt suffocated. I stood on wobbly knees. “I think I should go. I need to go.”

“Are you crazy?” Q put a hand on my shoulder and pushed me down. “If you get up now, he’ll see you.”

“So?”

“If you leave then he’ll know you’re leaving because of him … and so will
she
.” He inclined his head and that’s when I saw her. Sumi. She bound up the stairs to where Kim stood waiting to usher her to their seats. She sat and, if I didn’t know better, glanced over her shoulder directly at me before planting a kiss on his cheek. But that was impossible, right? It was too dark in the theater for her to see into our corner.

Kim didn’t react to the kiss. He kept his eyes trained on the previews flashing onscreen and handed her the soda.

“Wow,” Q whispered into my ear. “He’s about as passionate with her as I am with my sister.”

I had to agree. Even so, the contents of my stomach raged, a sea of bile and licorice. My fingers curled around the armrests, a flimsy anchor, to keep my body, tense with the desire to run, in place. But I wouldn’t run—despite how badly I wanted to. Being with Kim had been easy, natural, thanks to a lifetime of loving him. Now it was up to me to figure out how to be without him. Despite Q’s good intentions, it wasn’t something someone else could help me figure out. I had to do it on my own.

Easier said than done considering I hadn’t done such a great job existing in the same world as Kim, much less in the same movie theater.

I took several deep breaths.
You can do this, Rileigh.
Kim was made of flesh, blood, and bone just like every other guy in the theater. There was absolutely nothing special about him—nothing I couldn’t live without.

Yeah … and since I was living in a fantasy world, I may as well add that I’d love a pony.

Q shook his head. “I just don’t understand why he’s doing this.”

“You and me both,” I said through clenched teeth.

“I mean, just look at them.” He thrust his hand in their direction.

“I’d rather not.” But even as I said the words, my eye refused to look anywhere else. Kim sat rigid in his chair, perfectly still while Sumi leaned her head against his shoulder. She might as well have been cuddling a brick wall for all the affection she received.

“It’s so obvious he doesn’t like her,” Q continued.

“He says he’s obligated by
honor
.” The word tasted bitter on my tongue.

“Yeah … ” Q shook his head and took a long draw on his Icee. “I’m just not buying it.”

Me either. But that was the sucky thing about breakups—they didn’t come with answers, or sometimes even a warning. One minute, you’re together, kissing in the middle of a field as he tells you how much he loves you and the next minute, you’re alone, picking up the pieces of your heart that he scraped off the bottom of his shoe.

My eyes burned with unshed tears. No. I closed my eyes before they had the chance to fall. But that didn’t stop the prickling sensation just beneath the surface from growing until it pushed against my skin. I tightened my fingers on the chair hard enough to make my fingers ache. A wind—either from me or the overhead air conditioning vent—
tickled the hair framing my face.

Q turned to me with wide eyes. “Ri-Ri, are you okay?”

I shook my head. “I’ll be fine. I’m fine.” Lies. I clenched my teeth together so hard my jaw ached. I couldn’t lose control now, not in a theater full of people … and
them.
My muscles tightened as my entire body braced for the power about to rip through me.

Q put his hand on top of mine.

And just like someone had flipped a switch, the buzzing sensation died, my muscles relaxed, and my ki fell silent, retreating inside of me. For the first time in more than a month, I felt like I wasn’t a bomb moments away from exploding. I felt … normal.

We exchanged sidelong glances.

“What the hell was that?” I whispered.

“Beats me.” He slowly withdrew his hand.

It didn’t make sense. I was on the verge of losing control, Q touched me, and then I wasn’t. “Did you—did you do something?”

He laughed out loud, which made several people turn to us with scowls. “Uh, no. I am neither a samurai nor am I able to manipulate ki. That was all you, babe. Maybe you’re just getting some control back?”

I frowned. Was I? And if I was gaining control over my ki manipulation, how was I doing it?

Q’s smile disappeared behind a grimace of pain. He hissed and pressed his palm against his head.

“Q!” More dirty looks from the people in front of us. “Seriously?” I asked them. “It’s just the previews!” Before any of them had a chance to say something back, I turned to Q. “What’s wrong?”

He shook his head and winced. “Nothing. Just another one of my damned migraines. I’ve had quite a few of them lately.”

I bit my lip. That wasn’t good news. “Have you been to a doctor?”

“Yeah.” His hand slid from his face and he blinked several times. “I had blood drawn, a CT scan, an MRI, the works, and they still couldn’t find anything wrong with me. At the very least, they gave me something for the pain.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small metal box. He flicked it open and dumped two pills onto his palm. He tossed them into his mouth and chased them with his Icee. “They don’t work that great, though.”

“Then why don’t we go?” I stood.

“No.” He waved me back down. “It’s cool.” He gave me a weak attempt at a smile. “Besides, the movie is about to start.”

The last preview ended, leaving the theater in darkness. The people around us became faceless shadows. It occurred to me what a potentially dangerous place the theater really was. The dim lighting made it hard to make out the things around you and the exits were a good distance away. At least, from our vantage point in the back, I had a clear view of anyone entering and leaving.

Unfortunately, I also had a clear view of Kim’s unmistakable outline. Sumi leaned over and whispered something to him, her lips practically brushing his ear. My stomach convulsed and I tasted something sour on my tongue.

Just watch the movie, Rileigh.
I pried my eyes off the real-life drama a couple rows ahead of me and focused on the screen, though I hardly took in anything I watched. It wasn’t that long ago Kim told me even though a person’s soul remained the same, rebirth made everyone a new person capable of making new choices. Kim wasn’t Yoshido anymore, so I guessed it was possible we weren’t the soul mates I thought we were. Since I couldn’t go back in time and have Yoshido back, I had to accept the fact he was gone forever.

And who knew? Maybe in time I could learn to live my life without Kim just as easily as he lived his without me. Maybe I’d even find someone to care about again … but first, I’d have to get rid of the ache inside of me Kim left behind. The hurt wasn’t so much that he’d left me for Sumi. No, the real pain, the tearing, crushing feeling that kept me awake at night was from the doubt he ever loved me in the first place.

I must have made a sound because instantly Q’s hand was around mine. The throbbing ache in my chest faded. I took a deep breath and leaned my head on his shoulder. I was a trained warrior. I’d survived countless battles and defeated thousands of enemies. I would survive this. I might hurt every second of every day for the rest of my life.

But I would survive.

32

I
t wasn’t until the lights in the theater turned on that I realized the movie was over. And I hadn’t watched a moment of it. I couldn’t stop thinking about not thinking about Kim. I kept waiting for him to stand up and tell me that he’d made a horrible mistake, beg for my forgiveness, and promise me he’d never leave me again.

Of course, that remained the fantasy it was.

Instead, I watched Kim and Sumi stand, gather their trash, and walk down the aisle together, hand in hand.

“I’m really proud of you,” Q whispered in my ear.

“Yeah?” I kept my eyes locked on Kim until he’d disappeared around the corner. “You might not say that if you knew all the things I’m thinking about doing to Sumi as we speak.”

He laughed. “Yes, but you didn’t do those things even though we all know how capable you are of doing them. I’d call that progress.”

“The night is young.”

He grinned and offered me his hand when I stood. I took it and we exited the theater together. I’d made sure to take my time so we wouldn’t have any accidental run-ins with the lovebirds. But when we stepped into the lobby, I heard someone call my name.

“Rileigh! Hold up!”

I recognized the voice and knew it wasn’t Kim’s. A wave of both disappointment and relief washed over me. I turned and forced a smile to my face. “Hey Carson.”

He smiled back and shoved his hands in his jeans pockets. His nose was only a little red and nearly all the black was gone from his eyes.

Q leaned into me and whispered, “Try to have a civil conversation with the boy without bruises, blood, or blisters, okay?” Before I could shoot him the appropriate dirty look in response, he took a giant step backward and pretended to study something on the ceiling.

Carson cleared his throat and rocked back on his heels. “So … I guess you’re not grounded anymore?”

“Grounded?” It took me a moment to realize that was the excuse I’d given him when he’d asked me out. “Oh, you mean when I was
grounded
for my grades.”

Carson looked confused and Q rolled his eyes.

“Um, yeah,” Carson said.

“Yeah, so … ” I shrugged. “I’m not grounded anymore.”

He frowned. “I kinda gathered that.”

I laughed, though it was a pitch too high to sound natural. “Right. I, uh, managed to ace a couple of tests and that got my mom off my back.”

“Cool.” He grinned.

I never noticed it before, but the cleft on his chin deepened when he smiled. It was kinda cute. If only my heart wasn’t ground into pulp, I could have seen myself going out with someone like him.

He fidgeted with the leather cuff on his wrist. “So if you’re not grounded, maybe you’d want to … I don’t know … ”

Oh crap. Oh crap. Oh crap. Oh. Crap. He was going to ask me out again. And my seatbelt wasn’t fastened and my tray was not in an upright position. I wasn’t ready! I looked to Q for help but he only winked. I was so going to kill him.

Okay, think, Rileigh!
You could come up with an excuse to let Carson down easy. Maybe I could tell him I had leprosy …

“ … you and me could … but you don’t have to … ”

Leprosy wouldn’t work; I couldn’t fake falling-off limbs. I could tell him my religion didn’t allow dating. That I’d volunteered for a NASA trip to the moon. Or, I could put on my big-girl panties and just tell him the truth—that I’d given my heart to someone who’d used it for a punching bag. That it hurt too much to open myself up. That I’d never be able to be with anyone ever again without comparing them to the love I’d lost—the samurai I’d loved from one lifetime into the next. The very guy that was heading this way with his arm around another girl.

Son of hibachi.

Carson continued to stutter through asking me out, oblivious to the couple approaching.

But Q wasn’t. I glanced over my shoulder and he’d turned a ghostly shade of white. Awesome. I’d get no help from him.

They stopped behind Carson. Sumi glared at me and tightened her hold on Kim’s waist.

He didn’t seem to notice. His eyes stayed locked on mine. The look was unreadable. It killed me to have his eyes on me again. If I wasn’t so stubborn, I would have turned away.

Kim opened his mouth, but I wasn’t about to listen to the bullcrap about to spill out.

“You know what?” I interrupted both Carson’s rambling and whatever Kim was about to say. “That sounds really great, Carson. I’d love to go out with you.”

Kim’s mouth snapped shut and his lips pressed into a frown.

“Kim, I want to go,” Sumi whined at his side before shooting me a dirty look.

Carson followed my line of sight and glanced over his shoulder. But he either didn’t understand the showdown going on behind him, or he didn’t care. Because when he looked back at me, he was all smiles. “Really?”

Something inside of me hesitated, but I ignored it. Some part of me knew I was being the world’s biggest bitch by using Carson to get back at Kim. That part was overruled by the part of me that ached so badly I thought I might scream and pull my hair out in the crowded lobby. Instead, I held out my hand to Carson. “Give me your phone.”

He fished it out of his pocket and put it in my hand.

“Kim.” Sumi tugged on his arm.

Kim hesitated before finally allowing himself to be pulled from the theater.

I win,
I thought as I punched my number into Carson’s phone. No sooner did I have the thought than I wanted to thwack my head against the nearest wall. I won? Really? Because it sure as hell didn’t feel like it. I stared at the phone in my hand. What was I doing? What kind of girl was I? Before I could delete my number and tell Carson that I’d made a mistake, he snatched the phone from my hand.

“I’ll call you.” Carson started walking backward toward the theater doors—almost as if he could sense I was seconds away from backing out, which was exactly what I wanted to do. Carson was too nice of a guy to be used.

Heartbreak was making me a bitch.

When he was gone, Quentin looped his arm through mine and ushered me to the door. “That was crazy! Did you see the way Kim looked at you? He looked devastated that you were going to go out with Carson.”

“I can’t do it.”

He stopped walking. “What? Of course you can.”

“No.” I shook my head. “It’s wrong. If I go out with Carson, I’d only be using him to make Kim jealous.”

Q frowned at me. “I know you’re not ready for anything serious. There’s no law that says if you go out on one date with a boy you have to get married. Go out with Carson. Have a good time. And if you don’t want to go out with him again, don’t. There is absolutely nothing wrong with that.”

Well, when he put it like that, it didn’t sound so bad. “You really think so?”

He ruffled my hair. “Of course.” He started to say something else, but his words turned into a hiss and he pinched the bridge of his nose.

My hand hovered over his shoulder. He looked to be in so much pain I wasn’t sure if I should touch him. “Your migraine?”

He nodded but said nothing.

I hated to see him suffer so much—especially when I could do nothing to alleviate his pain. “Should I take you to the hospital? This can’t be normal.”

He dropped his hand and glared at me. “I’m fine, okay? I don’t need you making a big deal about his.”

Whoa. So the Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde act continued. I held my hands up in surrender and took a step back. “Sorry. I’m just worried. You don’t need to bite my head off.”

He blinked several times before his angry expression melted into one of surprise. “I’m sorry. I-I have no idea why I snapped at you. The migraines feel like a knife stabbing into my brain … but it’s more than that. I can’t think clearly. I’m not myself.”

Understatement of the year, but I wasn’t about to say that out loud. Instead, I nodded sympathetically. “Pain can do that.” I held my hand with the palm down, like he was a dog who might bite. “Let’s get you home, okay? I bet sleep will help.”

He sucked in a breath. “That’s probably a good idea.” He took my hand and together we walked into the dark parking lot. When we arrived at his Mini, I rubbed my hands over my arms to ward off a chill from the crisp fall night. Or so I thought until I opened the car door and spotted a folded piece of paper on the passenger seat.

Q opened the driver’s door but hesitated when I hadn’t made a move to get in the car. “What’s up?”

I stared at the piece of paper, positive it hadn’t been there when I’d gotten out of the car. It was from a yellow legal pad—the same kind of paper left on the door of my old house with a threat. I glanced around the parking lot for anything out of place. “Q, did you lock your car doors before we went in the theater?”

He held up the remote on his keychain. “Always.”

A locked door is a small obstacle for a ninja. I closed my eyes and allowed a small amount of my ki to slip through my skin and search the lot for anyone who meant me harm. After a few moments of detecting no negative energy, I pulled my ki inside of me and opened my eyes. “Someone left us a note.” I grabbed the piece of paper and climbed into the car.

Q climbed in after me and eyed the note I held on my lap with wide eyes. “Who do you think left it?”

“Whitley.” I knew without opening it. Legal pads weren’t the obvious choice when it came to threatening notes and casual letters. Using the same type of paper he’d used at my old house let me know he wanted his identity known.

“But-but,” Q stammered, “I thought he was dead.”

I looked at him. “I don’t have that kind of luck.”

We sat in silence for a moment, me staring at the paper, not wanting to deal with the words written inside of it, and Q drumming his fingertips against the steering wheel.

“So … ” he began.

“Yeah, I’m going to do it.” I opened the paper and read.

Meet me at the Grand Basin tomorrow at midnight.
Don’t be seen and DON’T be followed.

So, yeah. Just an anonymous cryptic note leading me into a trap. Pretty much what I expected. I crumpled the note and leaned back against the seat. “Where the hell is the Grand Basin? What the hell
is
the Grand Basin?”

“I think it’s the lake in front of the Art Museum in Forest Park.” Q reached for the note in my lap and smoothed it out. After he read it, he looked at me. “Do you really think this is from Whitley?”

I nodded. “Yup. Now I just have to figure out why he wants to meet in Forest Park. There are a lot more convenient places to murder someone.”

His eyes widened. “So you think it’s a trap?”

“I don’t know. Did you receive an invitation from Whitley for an early surprise birthday party for me?”

“Uh, no.”

I shrugged. “It’s a trap.”

Q glanced at the paper. “Well, then I guess it’s easy enough to avoid. Don’t go.”

“Yeaaaaaah.” I stared out the window so I wouldn’t have to look at his “stern” face. “You see, that sounds all well and good. But the problem is, the ninja attacks have been escalating. And if I don’t show up, Whitley knows where I live. He could attack me there. My mom would totally ground me if I had a ninja fight in the condo while she was out of town.” I looked over my shoulder and gave him my most dazzling smile.

He scowled.

I stopped smiling. I really needed to work on my dazzle.

“My mom is having a Scentsy party tomorrow,” he said.

“The scented-wax thingies? Random. But go on.”

He laced his fingers together on his lap. “I was thinking … I know how much you love to smell things.”

I nodded. I could spend hours in a candle store sticking my nose inside every jar. “True. I do love to smell.”

“Well, instead of going on your suicide mission, you could just come to the party. We could go smell crazy and even sneak a few of my mom’s JELL-O shots. Eh?” He poked a finger in my ribs. “Epic, right?”

I laughed at his sorry attempt to convince me not to go. “Yes, but as much as I love smelling things and hangovers—and just so you know, I really don’t like the last one—the party wouldn’t be that epic if a bunch of ninja showed up and stabbed everyone to death. That’s kind of a buzzkill.”

He made a face. “Like that would happen.”

“Right. Because it wasn’t like they bombed an entire dojo or anything in broad daylight.”

Q opened his mouth only to snap it shut again.

I patted his leg. “They’re not going to stop until I’m dead, Q. And I promise you, I’m going to try really hard not to be dead.”

He crooked a smile. “It’s not like my mom doesn’t throw a dozen of these parties a year. We can always go to another one if we survive tomorrow night.”

I blinked at him, hoping I had heard wrong. “We?”

“Well, duh. It’s not like I can let you go gallivanting off to your death alone. What kind of friend would that make me?
”

“A smart one.”

He rolled his eyes. “Please don’t give me any crap about you not wanting me to go because you’re worried I’ll get hurt and blah, blah, blah. Because I’m coming with you. Who knows?” He shrugged. “Maybe I can even help.”

As if I was going to let him risk his life. I folded my arms. “And if I say no?”

He smiled. “Then I’ll tell Dr. Wendell what you’re up to and I’m sure he’ll insist on going. The way I see it, someone is going with you. It comes down to whether it’s me or Dr. Wendell.”

I glared at the conniving evil genius that was my best friend. I didn’t doubt for a minute he’d tell Dr. Wendell if I didn’t let him come. And, while Dr. Wendell had some martial arts experience, he was still … Dr. Wendell. I was sure he would insist on running the show. Not going to happen. This was my death trap, and if I was going to die, I was going to die on my terms. If worse came to worse, I’d figure a way to get Q out of there.

“You win,” I said. “Be at my house by eight.”