Katana (9 page)

“Uh-huh,” I answered, rubbing my shoulder.

He laughed again, but this time there was a ring of familiarity in it that inspired a chill under my skin. There was something about that laugh, a clue of sorts, lying under the blanket of my subconscious. But that couldn’t be. I narrowed my eyes, comparing his image to the memories of people I’d met at events like football games and parties. Other than the hospital, nothing came to mind. So I asked, “Have we met before? I mean, before the hospital. Your laugh … ” I couldn’t put my finger on the weird feeling of
déjà vu.

He raised a single eyebrow.

I shook my head. “No, that’s silly.”

He tilted his head. “You know, you do look like someone who just woke up.”

“What?” I smoothed my hands along the sides of my pulled-back hair. Maybe the rolled-down windows had done more damage than I thought. “I’ve been up all day.”

The corners of his lips curled down in an amused upside-down smile. “That’s not what I was talking about.”

I quit fussing with my hair. “Then what
are
you talking about?”

“Follow me if you want to find out.” He swept his hand in front of him as a gesture for me to walk through the door.

I shook my head. “Uh-uh. There’s no way I’m following you into that room.”

Kim cocked an eyebrow.

“I don’t know you. I don’t know what you want or why you won’t leave me alone. In fact, the only reason I came here tonight is to tell you to stop bothering me. No more phone calls and no more notes.”

“Notes?” All traces of amusement left Kim’s face. “What notes?”

I groaned. “Puh-lease. Like you don’t know. The one that said ‘I know your secret.’” I wiggled my fingers in the air to exaggerate the eerie effect I knew he was hoping for.

“Rileigh, I didn’t leave you a note.” Kim’s voice was full of concern, with a hint of fear. He must take acting lessons.

“Whatever. Just know that if you don’t leave me alone, as of this second, I’m going to … file for a restraining order.” Brilliant. I mentally patted myself on the back.

Kim seemed to think about this for a moment. Finally, he said, “You want me to leave you alone?”

Seriously, did this guy ride the short bus? “I just told you that.”

“Fine. Then I have a proposition for you. Come with me into the training room. I only want to show you something. It won’t take long. After that, you can leave and I’ll never bother you again.”

I eyed him skeptically. It sounded too good to be true. A couple of minutes and I would never have to deal with him again? “What’s the catch?”

“No catch,” he said. “Do we have a deal?”

I could sacrifice a couple of minutes if it meant never having to be bothered by Kim again. “Deal.”

He smiled and disappeared through the door without waiting for me to follow.

So this was it. The key to being left alone and getting my life back was a room away. I trembled in anticipation—or was it fear? It was getting harder to tell the difference. All I had to do was walk through that door. The door with who-knows-what on the other side. I turned and looked longingly at the glass door through which I had entered the building.

Two doors. Two choices. Two outcomes. I turned away from the exit, pushed my shoulders back, and stepped into the unknown.

12

I
wrinkled my nose at the smell of rubber that permeated the room. A solid wall of floor-to-ceiling mirrors projected my wide-eyed wariness back at me as I cautiously stepped onto the giant jigsaw puzzle of blue and black mats that covered the dojo floor. Four punching bags hung from the ceiling along the left-side wall of the large room, and several more bags clustered in the far corner on floor stands. Two of the floor-stand bags had the shape of actual men from the waist up, with scowls molded onto their rubber faces. I found it funny that a designer would go through the trouble of making a punching bag appear menacing.

Above the bags, a wooden shelf stuffed with trophies of various sizes looked like a miniature city crammed with golden towers. I was about to take a closer look at their engravings when a glint of metal reflecting in the mirror captured my attention.

Kim stood across the room staring at various sharp weapons mounted against the wall.

My throat went dry. I didn’t like where this was going. “So this is your dojo?”

He kept his focus on the weapons. “For two years now.”

“But you look so young.”

He turned to me and smiled. “I am currently eighteen years old.”

“Currently?
That’s an odd way of putting it.”

He gave a soft laugh and returned his focus to the weapons. There were more than a dozen of them, in all different shapes and sizes. Some I recognized from the martial arts action flicks Quentin and I watched, and others, with wicked sloping angles, looked like the blades of demons. Kim stopped in front of a small, slightly curved blade about the length of my arm. He reached for the wrapped black handle, but stopped short, allowing his hand to linger inches above it, fingers still. He closed his eyes and seemed to be physically straining against—what? I had no idea, and my tongue was too thick to ask. After what felt like an eternity, he snatched it from its resting place, nodded his head in approval, and turned to me. “Please forgive me for this. There is no other way.”

My heart knocked painfully against my chest, drawing the blood from my body and leaving me shivering. “Excuse me?”

“Have you even seen one of these before?” he asked, gesturing with his head to the slightly curved sword still in his hands.

I shook my head while taking a step backward. “Is this what you wanted to show me?”

“It’s okay. You don’t need to be afraid,” Kim said. He swung the sword in a circle in front of him, then drew the blade back so that he presented the sword to me hilt first. “Here. Take it.”

“If you think I’m all impressed by your pointy-object collection, you’re seriously mistaken.” I recoiled from it as if it could bite. I thought Kim and I had a deal—now I wasn’t so sure. Had I made a fatal mistake in coming here? Too many scenarios from Nana’s beloved crime dramas flashed through my mind. Being alone with a crazy guy and his sword was never a good thing.

He took another step forward, urging me with his eyes.

I took another step back. “We had a deal. You wanted to show me something. I’ve seen the sword, and now I’ll be going.”

Kim shook his head. “You haven’t seen what I want to show you yet. By the way, this
sword,”
he inclined his head toward the weapon, “is a katana. Japanese samurai used them in battle.”

My nerves were so fried, they bordered on crispy. “Okay, that’s great. I appreciate the history lesson, Kim. But I’m really not comfortable with what’s going on. This was a mistake. The whole thing is a mistake.” I spun on my heels, but wound up almost smashing my face against his chest. Startled, I took a step back. “How did you move so fast?”

He didn’t bother to hide his amusement as he thrust the blade toward me. “Take it,” he repeated.

I hesitated, slowly bringing my fingers up to hover over the blade. I didn’t want to touch it, but I figured if this guy was nuts, it was probably better that the blade was in my possession. Self Defense 101: A weapon is always better than no weapon when dealing with crazies.

Carefully, I wrapped my fingers around the handle, bracing myself in the event he decided to snatch it back. Instead, he stood as still as a statue, moving only to suck in a breath as I lifted the sword from his open palm. I cast him a nervous glance, waiting for him to do something, but his gaze remained locked on the katana. Figuring I was safe for the moment, I turned my attention to the sword in my hand. Strangely, it felt familiar: the weight in my hand, the texture of the wrapped handle, even the size of the hilt. I knew I’d held one before; I just couldn’t remember when.

“Does it feel familiar to you?”

The precise timing of his question left me too stunned to answer. This whole situation began to have an unreal feel to it, like walking the line between a dream and the darkness that surrounds it.

“I understand how much this is to take in.” His eyes softened, and for a minute he seemed sincere. “You are confused. Your world has been thrown off balance, and you are having conflicting thoughts and feelings about things you were once so sure about. You don’t know who you can trust, including yourself.”

Once again, he’d put my thoughts into words. “How—How do you know these things?”

He laughed. “You are not the first to experience the awakening.”

“The wha—” I tightened my grip on the sword.

“The awakening,” he repeated matter-of-factly. “Walking through the shadows of your past life.”

I choked down a laugh. Past lives—he couldn’t be serious.

As if sensing my disbelief, he almost grabbed my arm, but stopped short before actually touching me. He let his hand linger in the air above my arm so I could feel the heat radiating from his open palm. He balled his hand into a fist and dropped it down at his side. My skin tingled where his fingers no longer hovered.

“Why wouldn’t you consider the possibility that you were a fighter in a previous life? Rileigh, it was those forgotten skills that resurfaced when you were attacked.”

I was going to answer him when the familiar wind stirred through my head, raising the hairs along the back of my neck.

They’re waiting. Behind the door.

My laughter came out a pitch higher than normal. I quickly choked it down and shook my head furiously, as if I could somehow shake the voice loose from my skull.

Kim frowned. “Rileigh … are you well?”

I stopped shaking and smoothed my ruffled hair back with my hands. “You’re wrong. It was adrenaline that helped me that night. That’s all.”

“Oh, adrenaline. I see.” He turned his body away from me, watching me from over his shoulder. “Is that what you really think?”

I wanted to tell him that yes, that’s exactly what I thought, but I didn’t have the time. He spun around so quickly that he was nothing but a blur of color. I saw his kick form just as fast and knew that his intended target was my head. I closed my eyes—my first instinct—giving myself no time to make any other move.

Waiting for my nose to be bashed in, I was startled when a slight breeze tickled past my cheek.

Cracking my eyelids open, I found Kim towering over me wearing a smug smile. I felt slightly dizzy and it took me a minute to figure out why he loomed so far above me —somehow I’d ended up crouched on the floor, with one hand defending my face and the other bracing the katana out in front of me. I dropped the sword like it was on fire.

He laughed. “Did adrenaline help you do that?”

I barely heard him over the blood pounding in my head. I couldn’t believe he’d tried to kick me, regardless of whatever point he was trying to prove. What if he’d been wrong? I’d have been knocked out cold. Hot flames of anger licked along my insides. I embraced it, allowing it to burn away the fear and insecurity still inside me. I’d had enough. “Listen, buddy, I may not know what’s going on here, but the next time you try to kick me, remember one thing.” I picked the sword up and stood up to face him. “I’m the one with the sword, and apparently I know how to use it.” I wasn’t sure I really believed that, but this guy was entirely too cocky.

He laughed again, a deep-throated hearty sound that reverberated throughout my body, melting my anger. That, more than anything else, scared me.

“Well,” he said when he could speak again, “that’s what I intend to find out.”

“Yeah, how’s that?” Even if I wasn’t angry, I could still act the part.

He turned away from me and headed toward a door to the side of the mounted weapons. He opened it a crack, turned his back to me, and said, “It’s time.”

I had a moment to wonder who he was talking to before three figures, dressed in what looked like head-to-toe white pajamas, stalked through the door. The scarves wrapped around their heads hid their faces, but it was more than obvious from the intensity in their eyes that they weren’t here for a slumber party.

I licked my suddenly dry lips as trickle of sweat ran down the length of my spine.

Their eyes weighed me as they made their slow, steady approach. They didn’t stop until I was placed in the middle of a very dangerous circle. Moving in sync, they reached behind them and drew out their own katanas. The tips of the blades flashed in the light of the overhead fluorescent bulbs. Scared as I was, I couldn’t help but appreciate the beauty of their movements—how each move held enough grace to make even the most practiced ballerina jealous.

One of the figures raised his sword over his shoulder, and my own terrified eyes were reflected back at me from the blade. “Oh no, no, no.” I held a single hand in front
of me.

The three figures took a collective step closer.

My heart dug into my chest like a jagged stone. This was crazy! I wasn’t supposed to die this way—diced to pieces by ninjas. It sounded ridiculous just thinking it in my head. “Kim,” I pleaded, “I don’t know what you think is going on, but it’s not true. I’m not a reincarnated warrior. I just got lucky before. I can’t fight. Don’t let them do this!”