Free Katana by Cole Gibsen Page B

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