Senshi (A Katana Novel)

by Cole Gibsen

  I glanced at Q. “What does that mean—infected?”

  Whitley inspected the blade in his hand, turning it over. “It means she’s manipulating his mind. It’s kind of her specialty.”

  Mind manipulation? I had no idea that was even in the realm of possibility. A shudder ripped through my body and I hugged my arms across my chest to suppress it. “But I don’t understand. How did she do it?”

  Whitley shrugged. “I only know what she can do. I don’t know how.”

  Quentin blinked several times before dropping his forehead into his hand. “I don’t think I can handle this.”

  “She’s obviously using him to work against us,” Whitley continued. “Haven’t you noticed him acting strangely?”

  Quentin looked up and we exchanged glances. He had been having a lot of mood swings lately. But I’d assumed they were the result of his migraines which, come to think of it, were pretty odd too. I crouched beside him. “Do you think your mind’s been manipulated?”

  He opened his mouth, closed it, and shook his head. Finally, he shrugged. “I don’t know … I mean, I haven’t felt like myself for awhile. I’ve been so angry … especially with you. And I don’t know why.” He made a pained sound, pinched the bridge of his nose, and looked away.

  Even knowing his mind might be manipulated, his admission cut into me like a blade. My Q, my best friend in the world, couldn’t stand to be around me? I stood and cracked my knuckles. This kunoichi just messed with the wrong samurai. I turned to Whitley. “What if you’re wrong?”

  He held the blade in front of him. “Then he’s going to need a big Band-Aid.”

  “Why?” I stared at the knife, trying to swallow around the lump of fear that had risen in my throat. “What’s the knife for, exactly?”

  Whitley held the blade in front of him, a hungry look on his face. “The migraines,” he answered.

  “What about them?”

  He dropped the knife to his side. “Really? Do I have to do all the thinking?” When I didn’t answer, he sighed and pointed at Quentin. “The migraines tell me that your friend here is more than he appears.”

  Quentin and I exchanged more confused looks.

  “The migraines are a sign he’s fighting the kunoichi’s mind manipulation.”

  “That a good thing, right?” Q asked.

  Whitley smiled. “Well, it’s a curious thing. You see, most people can’t fight mind manipulation. The fact you’re doing it leads me to believe you’re more than most.”

  His revelation knocked the wind from my lungs. I sucked in a breath. “Wait, what?”

  Quentin only stared at Whitley, his eyes bulging from their sockets.

  Whitley looked at me and wagged the knife in the air. “How often does he get sick?”

  I thought about that and frowned. I couldn’t remember a time when Quentin had the flu, a sore throat, or even the sniffles.

  “That’s what I thought.” Whitley stepped around me. “You see, mind manipulation is a type of infection.” He grabbed Quentin’s arm. “Do you know what kind of person can fight off a powerful mental infection?”

  Q shook his head, his eyes never leaving the gleam of the blade in front of him.

  But I knew. Whitley’s words had jogged a fragment of a memory from the past. I remembered returning to the village after a particularly bloody battle. One of the twins, Yorimichi, had been struck in the thigh, right through an artery. Poor Yori had been so pale. Yoshido rode behind him in his saddle just to keep him from toppling over. I was sure he was going to die. But Lord Toyotomi had summoned a woman in a white robe, a woman who laid her hands over my dying friend.

  And saved him.

  I swayed slightly under the weight of my revelation. “He’s a healer,” I whispered.

  Whitley smiled. “Very good.”

  I looked at Q, who still wouldn’t take his eyes off the knife. “Did you know?”

  “Know what?” He winced and I knew he must be experiencing another wave of pain. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “I believe him.” Whitley raised Q’s arm over his head. “I don’t think he knows what he is. He hasn’t opened himself to his power, which is why he hasn’t fully been able to heal himself of the mind manipulation.” He leaned in close to Q, a smirk on his face. “But don’t worry. That’s where I come in.”

  It was at that moment I figured out Whitley’s plan. And, despite his intentions, I couldn’t let him do it. I wouldn’t let him risk my best friend’s life.

  Whitley brought the knife to Quentin’s arm and I snatched it away before the blade could do more than prick

  his skin.

  “Not Q.” I flipped the knife over and handed it back to Whitley, hilt first. “Cut me instead.”

  Whitley’s smile was too eager for my liking. “With pleasure.”

  “What? No! What are you doing?” Q’s voice wavered.

  Instead of answering, Whitley brought the knife down on my arm. And despite gritting my teeth, a small yelp managed to push past my lips. The pain was white hot, almost to the point of blinding. After I got over the shock of the initial cut, a burning sensation spread across my arm. I pressed my hand to the wound, but the blood managed to squeeze through my fingers and fall on the pavement in fat droplets. “Damn it, Whitley!” Panic fluttered through my heart, speeding up my heart rate and making the blood fall from my fingertips that much faster. I should have known better than to trust him. “You cut too deep!”

  Whitley shrugged. “I’m only trying to help.”

  Help, my ass. I cradled my injured arm against my chest, ignoring the warm sticky blood soaking into my shirt and, more than likely, ruining my bra—which sucked even more because those things weren’t cheap.

  Q looked at the blood falling from my arm with terror in his eyes. “Why did you do that? I don’t understand … What is it you want me to do?”

  Whitley looked offended. “I am trying to help you, you idiot! Your healing powers aren’t strong enough to get rid of the kunoichi’s mind manipulation. But if you would quit your sniveling and focus on Rileigh’s arm, you might be able to awaken your full powers.”

  Might. Not exactly a comforting word when you’re bleeding to death in a Denny’s parking lot. I tried to ignore the tendrils of doubt wrapping around my gut. Blood saturated the front of my shirt. “This better work.” Panic edged into my voice.

  “Of course it will,” Whitley said. “If you die, then so do I. Do you think I’d really risk my own life?” He used the corner of his shirt to wipe my blood off his knife.

  No. Whitley wouldn’t risk his life. Not unless he’d been lying to me about the whole soul mate thing and this was a ploy to slit my wrist. Stupid Rileigh!

  I turned to Q. “I know this is a lot of pressure, but I have faith in you. You have to do this.” I stepped toward him and wavered on my feet. The blood loss already made me dizzy. With my good hand clamped on the cut, I thrust my arm at Q. “And you have to do it fast.”

  He stared at my arm with a look of horror. “This is ridiculous. We have to get you to a hospital!”

  Blood was everywhere, hot and sticky on my skin, soaked into my shirt, and filling my nose with its metallic scent. “There’s no time.” I took another wobbly step. “You can do this. I believe in you.”

  He swallowed. “But I … I don’t know the first thing about healing someone.”

  I thought back to the healer in Japan. She hadn’t said anything, she just placed her hands on Yori until color warmed his face. “You’ll know if you try. Place your hands on my arm, close your eyes, and the rest will come to you.”

  He frowned.

  “Please, Q.” A black cloud darkened the edges of my

  vision. I had only minutes until I lost consciousness and …

  worse. “You have to try. For me.”

 
He bit his lip and nodded. Without speaking, he took my arm and tightened his hand on the wound. I dropped my hand and trickles of blood squeezed through the edges of Quentin’s fingers. If he was grossed out, he didn’t show it. His eyes met mine, his expression unreadable. “Let’s do this.”

  38

  Quentin closed his eyes.

  I closed mine too.

  And waited.

  And waited some more.

  If something was happening, other than me bleeding out in a dirty parking lot, I sure wasn’t aware of it. I swayed and Q’s grip tightened. The pain in my arm faded until I could barely feel anything at all. I remembered the same thing happening when I’d died—it was a very bad sign.

  “Is it working?” Q asked.

  “Keep concentrating.” I hoped I didn’t sound as desperate as I felt.

  “Okay.”

  Another minute passed. A heaviness settled across my shoulders and threatened to pull me to the ground. I was so tired. My knees buckled. I wanted to prepare for impact but all my strength was focused on staying conscious. Another second and I’d kiss the pavement.

  And that’s when it happened.

  A faint warmth spread from Q’s fingers into my body. At first I thought it was the heat from his skin. But the warmth intensified into a delicious burn, like the heat from a fireplace on a snowy winter’s night.

  Q gasped but kept his grip on my arm.

  The heat spread from my arm, into my chest, where it branched out, reaching from my fingers to my toes. My knees stopped wobbling and I felt stronger. The dizziness inside my head dissolved.

  Q released me and the warmth flooding my body vanished. I opened my eyes and looked at my arm. What blood remained was tacky and flaking. But the wound itself had disappeared without so much as a scar.

  “Holy sh—” Q jumped back, stumbled over a parking block, and landed on his butt. He skittered several feet away before stopping.

  Whitley yawned. “You’re welcome.”

  Q’s wide eyes reflected the glare of the streetlight. “But I—that’s not—I don’t understand.”

  A-freaking-mazing. I rubbed my arm, it didn’t even ache. And there was something else too. My ki, the raging wind of power constantly threatening to explode from my skin, had settled inside me. I closed my eyes and pressed my hands to my chest just to be sure.

  Yep. No more spirit-energy hornets swirling around trying to beat their way out. I opened my eyes. “My ki—”

  “All better, is it?” Whitley cut me off with a smug smile.

  “How did you—”

  He waved my question away. “Your mind had been manipulated too. I’ve been keeping tabs on you and, in doing so, I found out about your little ki episodes. My guess is that the kunoichi tried to suppress your powers but didn’t quite succeed.”

  Anger ripped through my veins like a bottle rocket. My hands reflexively curled into fists. “So that’s why my ki has been so jacked up lately? Because this kunoichi bitch did something to my mind?” I’d never felt so violated. It was one thing to try and kill me, but it was a whole other thing to screw with my head.

  “Yes, well, it didn’t work, did it?” he said. “Probably because she didn’t have a whole lot to work with.”

  I held my hand out and channeled a small amount of ki into my hand. The difference in my control was amazing. Before Quentin healed me, manipulating ki felt like a constant struggle to harness the tornado of energy inside of me. Now, it was more like funneling a breeze. With a flick of my wrist I sent Whitley staggering back against his car door. “What was that?” I asked.

  Whitley hit the door with a grunt. After he straightened himself, he looked at me, his eyes wide and his hands held up in surrender. “What I meant to say is she doesn’t have much to work with because she doesn’t have her full power, yet.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Anyway, you should be thankful.” Wincing, he rubbed his shoulder.

  “And why’s that?”

  He stopped rubbing and dropped his hand to his side. “Because she obviously helped your powers grow. With your ki raging and you constantly struggling to keep it in check, you were able to move to a whole other level. Helloooo? Super-cool invisibility powers? That’s totally worth a couple of death attempts.”

  I wondered how many death attempts I’d have to survive to turn him invisible. Permanently.

  Whitley plucked the hairpin off of the ground. “It’s been … well, not fun.” He shrugged. “If it weren’t for the kanzashi, it would have been a complete waste of time.” He turned to his car.

  “Wait!” I started after him. “What are you going to do with the kanzashi? And what about the kunoichi?”

  He glanced at me over his shoulder, his eyes narrowed. “I suggest that, even though it will be an unpleasant experience for the both of us, we team up. Make no mistake. She’ll kill us if we let our guard down. If we work together, we might stand a chance.”

  I nodded, digesting his words. “Okay. So what do we do in the meantime?”

  “I’m going to destroy this.” He held up the kanzashi. “And then I’m going to track down the kunoichi.”

  “And if you find her?”

  He smiled. “When I find her, I’ll need help. I’ll be in touch.”

  My mind reeled as I struggled to process everything that had happened to me. I didn’t like the fact that Whitley was leaving with the comb, but I had more important things to worry about at the moment. “What about Q?”

  He shook his head. “Look, that’s really not my problem. Just get him calmed down and get the kunoichi out of his head.” He started to climb into his car.

  “But how?” I asked. “What if I can’t?”

  Whitley hesitated, smiling. “Then you’ll have to kill him. Because if you don’t, he’ll eventually be consumed by the hate the kunoichi’s implanted in his head. And then he’ll kill you. Have fun.” He waved before shutting the door and driving away, leaving me alone with my mentally ambushed best friend who, by the way, was now puking in the bushes.

  Awesome.

  39

  Q sat on my bed hugging his knees to his chest and rocking back and forth.

  I lit several candles and turned off the lights. “Close your eyes,” I told him. “And concentrate on breathing slowly.” With any luck we could pull this off without waking Debbie or—shudder—Dr. Wendell.

  He nodded and closed his eyes. His chest convulsed as he struggled to steady his ragged breaths. “Now what?”

  I wasn’t exactly sure—I knew nothing about being a healer or how their abilities worked. But I did remember Lord Toyotomi’s lessons in ki manipulation. I hoped the same principles applied here. Healing had to be just another way of moving energy … I hoped.

  I sucked in my own deep breath. “Okay. First things first, you have to find your center. Breathe in through your nose and exhale through your mouth. Concentrate on your breathing and nothing else. If it helps, imagine yourself floating out of your body.”

  He frowned. “I don’t know. This sounds kind of ridiculous.”

  I flicked my fingers at him, releasing just enough ki to ruffle his hair. “Was that ridiculous?”

  He opened his eyes and nodded. “Yes. Yes it was.”

  I chuckled and sat next to him. “Fair enough. It’s ridiculous that I can conjure up fireballs in chemistry, shield my body with energy, and disappear into shadows. It’s also ridiculous that you can heal a deadly knife wound in seconds without leaving a scar behind.” I held up my arm. “But you can. So now you have to work around your doubt. You need to understand there’s more to this world, there’s more to you, than you realize.”

  “Okay.” He sounded skeptical.

  “Close your eyes.”

  He obeyed.

  I folded my legs underneath me and took hold of his hands. I really had
no idea what I was doing. I was navigating on gut instinct. I only hoped it would be enough to save my friend. “What did it feel like when you healed my arm?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know … it’s kind of hard to explain. Even though my eyes were closed, when I held your arm … I could see this disgusting green—the color of mold—swirling in the darkness.”

  “And then what?”

  He shrugged. “I’m not exactly sure. All of a sudden I saw a yellow light. It just appeared and grew brighter and brighter until the ugly swirling green disappeared inside of it.”

  Yep. That was nice and mysteriously vague. “Can you do it again?”

  He frowned.

  I squeezed his hand. “Don’t answer that. We’re just going to do it whether you think you can or not.”

  “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  “It kinda does.”

  “Shush!” I ordered. “No more negativity. Close your eyes and concentrate on your mind. What do you see?”

  “Nothing,” he said. “I really don’t think—” But he bit off his words before he finished. His body went rigid, his fingers felt like stone in my hand. “No. Wait.” His voice lowered to a whisper. “I can see it. It’s … ” He shuddered. “Horrible.”

  I tightened my grip on his fingers. “You can do this. Focus on creating a light and burning away the green.”

  Q was silent for several moments. Then he gasped, his fingers painfully grasping mine. A hiss escaped through his clenched teeth.

  My heart shot like a rocket up inside my throat. “What is it? Are you okay?”

  He shook his head, his face pinched with pain. “It’s so deep. The infection … it’s surrounding my mind … it’s rooted inside of it. It won’t move!”

  “Yes it will!” It had to. There was no way I was going to lose him to the kunoichi. “Focus on that light, Q. Burn it away.”

  He groaned. “It hurts … ”

  My muscles tensed, readying myself for action—my go-to response whenever I was afraid. The problem was—with the battle raging inside Quentin’s mind—there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to help. “I’m here.” I rubbed slow circles on the top of his hands with my thumbs. “You can do this, Q. You’re stronger than you think. I believe in you.” I gave his hands an extra squeeze to emphasize my point.