The Ninja's Blade

by Tori Eldridge

  The patrol car stopped. “This the place?”

  I opened the door. “Yep. Thanks for the ride.”

  “You’re welcome. Have a nice day.”

  He drove off, leaving me on the sidewalk to ponder his words.

  Have a nice day?

  I coughed out a laugh. Where would I even begin?

  I pressed the buzzer on the gate and waited. Since it was only seven in the morning, the gate was still locked. After a minute, Stan exited the house and hurried down the path.

  “Lily. Thank God you’re okay. Aleisha and I were worried sick.”

  “Hey, Stan. Sorry to drop in on you this early.”

  He unlocked the gate and ushered me inside. “Don’t be silly. You’re welcome anytime, day or night.”

  “Is that Lily?” Aleisha called from the house, then rushed out the door to see for herself. Her face lit up with relief then fell with concern. “Where’s Emma?”

  Stan interceded. “Don’t badger the girl. Can’t you see she’s worn out?”

  “I’m fine,” I said. “But I wouldn’t mind coming inside.”

  Aleisha windmilled her hands in welcome. “Come, come. I’ll get you something to eat. You look even scrawnier than usual.”

  She hustled me into the huge kitchen at the back of the house. Stan had taken down two walls to join it to the dining and family rooms. A few early risers were nestled in a nook enjoying coffee and muffins. Aleisha filled a plate with muffins, grabbed a bottle of iced tea from the fridge, and led Stan and me out to the patio.

  The questions began the moment my butt hit the chair.

  “Are you okay? Because Stan’s right, you look…” She shook her head in dismay, no doubt taking in the bruises and cuts.

  I shrugged. “It was a long night.”

  “But are you okay?” The way she laid into the last word made her meaning clear. Aleisha was far more concerned about my emotional wellbeing than any injuries I might have incurred.

  “I’m fine. But I have hard news to share.”

  Aleisha collapsed into her seat. “She’s gone, isn’t she?”

  “They don’t know for sure, but it looks that way. Her trafficker had a shrine set up in his bedroom with photos of Emma and the shirt she was wearing when I met her a week ago. It was covered in blood.”

  “Lord have mercy.”

  Stan stood behind her and placed comforting hands on her shoulders. After a moment he looked at me. “When will they know for certain?”

  I shrugged. This news was the hardest to share.

  “The trafficker was shot and killed—not by me, by the cops. Without him, they may never know for sure if Emma was murdered or where he disposed of the body.”

  Aleisha moaned in despair. Although she generally did a good job of protecting herself emotionally, Emma’s plight had seeped past her defenses. If feelings were the source of our humanity, as Sensei had suggested, they were also our curse. We couldn’t pick and choose our emotions. Once the flood gates were opened, the bad rushed in with the good.

  “And the other girls?” Aleisha asked. “Are they okay?”

  “They will be.”

  “Good.” She took a deep breath and said it again with more conviction. “Good. No matter what happened to Emma, you helped those girls get home to their families. They’re safe because of you.”

  I sighed, too overwhelmed by all that had happened to gain comfort from her words. But Aleisha wasn’t having any of that.

  “Don’t you sigh at me. I’m speaking my truth, and you need to hear it. Those girls you told me about were in deep. Nobody else was stepping up to help them. But you did. You put your life on the line and saved them from hell on Earth.”

  I shook my head. “You know as well as I do what the odds are of them slipping back into it.”

  “No. I won’t let you dismiss what you’ve done, not after everything I’ve watched you suffer in the last month. You’re a good person who does good things. But more than that, you’re a warrior. Sometimes you draw blood and sometimes you get bloody, but the people you save would be lost without you.”

  I stared at her in surprise, not knowing how to respond. This was the second time today someone had said people would be lost without me. On a surface level, I understood what they meant. But on a deeper level, I found it hard to believe.

  Aleisha leaned forward and squeezed my hand. “I’m gonna put you in touch with a friend, and you’re going to talk to him. And nothing you say is going to surprise him because he’s seen and done it all. But you’re going to get this off of your chest and out of your heart. Because Stan and me? We won’t stand for it a moment longer. You hear me? Even warriors need help.”

  I looked from Aleisha to Stan and saw ferocious determination in their eyes. The lioness had spoken, and her mate would see it done.

  Chapter

  Fifty-Seven

  I emerged from a steaming shower and was about to crash face-down on my bed when an annoying ringtone alerted me to a call.

  “No,” I groaned, staring at Farmor’s hand-stitched quilt with longing. One lousy hour of sleep. Was that too much to ask?

  I snatched the phone off the dresser. “What?”

  “Excuse me?” Ma said. “Is that how I taught you to answer the phone?”

  I groaned again, fighting against heavy eyelids to stay awake. “Hey, Ma. What do you need?”

  “Aside from courtesy? Your grandparents are flying out this afternoon. They’d like to see you before they go.”

  “I thought they were leaving on Tuesday.”

  “This is Tuesday.”

  “Wait. What?” My eyes flew open. I checked the date on my phone. Without a night’s sleep, I’d lost a day. “What time is their flight?”

  “One o’clock.”

  “I’ll never make it to Arcadia in time to pick them up. Why didn’t you call me earlier?”

  “I did.”

  I checked my call history and found several missed calls. I checked the time. “It’s already eight o’clock. Are they on their way to the airport?”

  “Soon. Daniel is taking them.”

  “Daniel?”

  Ma sighed. “Gung-Gung arranged it this morning. He didn’t want me to miss another day of work.”

  “Huh. Sounds a little passive-aggressive.”

  “It did to me as well.”

  Her voice had an edge. I wondered what had transpired in the eighteen hours since we’d met for tea, but I didn’t have the energy to ask.

  “If Daniel’s driving them to the airport, where do they want to meet?”

  “At the restaurant.”

  My jaw dropped. “Does Baba know?”

  “Yes. But they won’t be staying long. They’re only coming to see you.”

  “All right. I’ll get dressed and meet them out front.”

  “Good. And Lily…” My brows furrowed as I waited. It wasn’t like her to leave a sentence dangling. “Be sure to give them a proper hug.”

  She ended the call before I could ask about her peculiar instruction. Of course I’d give them a hug. Did she think I’d just wave them on their way?

  Coffee. That’s what I needed. Or, better yet, a pot of yuen yeung. The condensed milk in the coffee-tea mixture would jolt me out of my brain fog.

  I threw on a sundress and ran a comb through my hair. Then I hurried downstairs to beg Baba to fix me a pot.

  “You’re up early,” he said, as I bounded into the kitchen.

  “You know us roosters, up with the dawn.” I was referring to my Chinese zodiac, but I could tell by the doubtful expression on his face that Baba wasn’t buying it. “Don’t suppose you could fix up a pot of yuen yeung?”

  “Oh, you don’t, do you?”

  I shrugged. “Wouldn’t be a bad thing.”

  “Not half bad, at all,” he agreed.

  “But will you?” I asked, a bit exasperated: The double negatives were taxing my c
affeine-starved brain.

  He chuckled. “I’ll fix you a pot. Don’t get your chickens in a fit.”

  I sighed with relief. “Thanks, Baba.”

  “I hear your grandparents are stopping by,” he said, as he gathered canisters of ground coffee and loose-leaf Tetley Orange Pekoe and Lipton Yellow Label Assam. “Any idea what that’s about?”

  “Not a clue. But Ma doesn’t seem too happy about it.”

  He scooped his special ratio of coffee and tea into a sleeve and poured boiling water over the mixture. Then he repeated the process, again and again, making the brew richer with every pour. Once he had the coffee and tea brewed to his desired intensity and smoothness, he poured in a half cup each of evaporated and condensed milk. All of this was Baba’s secret method which he claimed to have learned from a very cagey Hong Kong restaurateur. If he had milk tea already prepared, he stuck with the standard ratio of three parts coffee and seven parts milk tea—a measurement that baffled most Americans, including me.

  He placed the pot of yuen yeung on a tray with four cups. “In case you want to share.”

  I laughed. “Not likely. But I better drink this in the dining hall in case they arrive.”

  “I put a cone out front so Daniel won’t have to search for a space.”

  I tapped the side of my head. “Good kidneys.”

  “You betcha,” he said, and shooed me into the dining hall.

  Since Baba only served breakfast on dim sum weekends, I had the whole place to myself. I chose a window table so I could watch the street. Half way through the pot, Daniel arrived. I walked out to the car to greet everyone, but my grandparents stayed in their seats.

  “Hi,” I said, bending down to the open window. “Don’t you want to come inside?”

  Gung-Gung flicked his hand. “No time. We like to arrive very early for international flights.”

  “Um, okay. May I at least give you a hug?”

  “Hi, Lily,” Po-Po said, leaning forward from the back seat. “We’ll see you soon, okay?”

  “But…”

  Gung-Gung nodded his approval and added nothing more.

  Had I dragged myself from bed and ingested 360 calories and eighty-eight grams of sugar for “See you soon?”

  Daniel got out of the Lexus as Gung-Gung rolled up his window. I inclined my head toward the rear of the car where we could speak in relative privacy.

  “What’s going on? Ma said they wanted to see me.”

  He smiled. “I think they wanted to see you seeing me.”

  “Seriously?”

  He nodded.

  “Wow.”

  “Uh-huh.” His lips curved into a devilish smile.

  “What’s on your mind, Mr. Kwok?”

  “Would you like to make this worth their while?”

  “Hmm…”

  He leaned in as if to whisper but gazed at my lips instead. “I don’t want to take advantage.”

  “No. That could be dangerous.”

  “Then again, I’d hate to disappoint.”

  I smiled. “My grandparents, or me?”

  “Either.”

  I cut him off with kiss—lightly at first, then longer and more deeply.

  When our lips finally parted, I had forgotten what had prompted this action or why we were standing at the curb.

  He collected my fingers in his and lowered his forehead against mine. “Are they spying on us?”

  The heat from his face made me dizzy, but I didn’t want to break away. So, I rolled my forehead against his and glanced through the rear window to find both my grandparents gaping in their seats. “What do you think?”

  “I think we should do that again.”

  I rolled back the way I had come and found Daniel’s lips waiting for me, parted and inviting. But as I leaned in for another kiss, he pulled away with that mischievous smile. “Oh, no. If I give it all away now, you might not answer my calls.”

  Heat flushed up my neck as I struggled not to smile. “You’re a brat.”

  He walked over to the driver’s side of the car and looked back as he opened the door. “So, will you?”

  “Will I what?”

  “Answer my call.”

  I shrugged and sauntered toward the restaurant.

  “Will you?

  I kept walking.

  “Lily?”

  I chuckled.

  Through the reflection in our restaurant window, I watched Daniel get into the car and Gung-Gung and Po-Po descend on him with poking fingers and prying questions. I hoped they needled him all the way to LAX. And I hoped Daniel didn’t say a word. It would serve them all right for playing games.

  I might not have Daniel’s experience or my grandparents’ caginess, but I had spent my life training in the ninja arts. And one way or another, a ninja always won.

  THE END

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  The story and characters from The Ninja’s Blade immerged from my research about the commercial sexual exploitation of youth in Los Angeles, too often erroneously referred to as child prostitution. To do justice to this issue, I wanted my characters to evoke empathy and expand awareness for all the many ways our children are vulnerable. I wanted to move my readers in the same way I had been moved by the girls who were brave enough to share their stories in interviews and essays. Although I researched from many sources, one name continued to appear as a tireless champion for prostituted children—Dr. Lois Lee.

  Dr. Lee’s work, articles, interviews, videos, and renown non-profit organization, Children of the Night, inspired me to write the stories of Brianna, Josie, Sharelle, Kristina, and Ana Lucía. Unbeknownst to Dr. Lee, she and her dedicated organization also inspired me to create the character of Dr. Ruiz and my fictional organization Forsaken Children: City of Angels. You can learn more about Dr. Lee and the good works of Children of the Night on her website. www.childrenofthenight.org.

  On a personal note, I would like to thank our eldest son and daughter-in-law, Stopher and Joeye, who brought me, my dearest Tony, and our darling Austin to Shanghai and Hong Kong for an Eldridge-Lee family celebration. Their love, generosity, and insightful contributions have improved this book and brought joy to our lives. Thanks as well to Ching, Ben, Eric, and the entire Lee family for introducing us to Hong Kong. I am truly blessed to have such a wonderful family.

  I would like to thank my literary agent, Nicole Resciniti of The Seymour Agency, and Jennifer Vance from Books Forward Publicity for their incredible support, motivation, and creativity. Thanks, as well, to Chantelle Aimée Osman for her meticulous and insightful editing, to Tracy Clark for her eagle eyes and cheerleading, and to my astoundingly supportive author friends and community. I couldn’t ask for a more empowering team.

  Be sure to check out the gorgeous book club kit that Jennifer Vance put together with an author interview, discussion questions, recipes, and even my dream cast picks for Lily Wong’s family! You can find it on the book club page on my website. https://torieldridge.com

  Of course, my deepest thanks goes to all of you—the readers who have fallen in love with Lily Wong. This modern-day Chinese-Norwegian ninja is dear to my heart and drawn from my heritage and experience. Although she and her family are not the same as me and mine, writing her stories have brought be closer to my family, my culture, and my ninja community. I can hardly wait to share the next stage of her journey as she travels to Hong Kong!

  If you’ve enjoyed The Ninja’s Blade, please consider leaving a review and sharing your recommendation on social media. I adore seeing and reposting reader photos, so be sure to tag me. @ToriEldridgeAuthor - Facebook, @writer.tori - Instagram, @ToriEldridge - Twitter.

  If you’d like the inside skinny on ninja-author news, mindful musings, first-look giveaways, and book recommendations, hop over to my website and subscribe to my monthly muse-letter. While you’re there, be sure to check out the ninja videos of me on the Lily Wong Book Club Page! http://torieldridge.com


  Mahalo nui loa,

  Tori

  About the Author

  Tori Eldridge is the author of the Anthony and Lefty Award nominated first Lily Wong thriller, THE NINJA DAUGHTER, which was named one of the “Best Mystery Books of the Year” by The South Florida Sun Sentinel. Her horror screenplay, The Gift, earned a semi-finalist place for the prestigious Academy Nicholl Fellowship.

  Tori is a Hawaiian-Chinese-Norwegian modern-day ninja who was born and raised in Honolulu. She holds a fifth-degree black belt in To-Shin Do ninjutsu and has traveled the USA teaching seminars on the ninja arts, weapons, and women’s self-protection. Find her online at www.torieldridge.com and on Twitter at @ToriEldridge.

  Payns rubbed the back of his neck and offered the slightest twitch of a grin.

  Having forced the desired acknowledgment, Ms. Cappelletti returned her attention to us. “I need to have a moment with Lieutenant Payns, but Ms. Ruiz will stay with you and answer any questions you might have. Lily, would you join us?”

  “Sure.”

  Ana Lucía whimpered, “I want my mommy,” reminding us all how young she really was.

  Payns stepped forward. “Your parents are on their way and very relieved to hear you’re safe.”

  Ana Lucía burst into tears. Brianna climbed into the bed to comfort her. I turned to Payns and whispered, “Still think she’s a trafficker?”

  He nodded toward the door. “Outside.”

  Once we reached the corridor, Ms. Cappelletti stopped him. “This is far enough.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  “We need to establish the ground rules. The state will have a stronger case if all of these girls testify.”

  “Obviously.”

  “But if any of them do, what they say may incriminate Brianna. That includes Lily.”

  “What are you saying? You don’t want any of them to testify? Because we won’t have much of a case without them. Even with Lily’s testimony, all we’d really have is false imprisonment, child abuse, and a possible accessory to an attempted rape—and that’s providing the jury believed her. If we find Emma’s body, we might be able to nail Rodriguez for her murder, but probably not his crew. Saint, Ricky, Big D will be out on the streets in months. And Rodriguez will be trafficking again within a decade.”