Rock, Pirate, Ninja

By R.A. Hobbs

(Novella)

[Book 2 of the Rogue Ninja Series]

Rock, Pirate, Ninja picks up right where Tetsuo and Vasha’s fugitive romance left off. Relentlessly pursued by the clans with whom they were once loyal, they find themselves trapped on the Cayman Islands with a bloodthirsty new enemy who is determined to do whatever it takes to eliminate them no matter who or what gets in their way.

• Language: English
• Publisher: R.A. Hobbs
• Release date: Jun 11, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301046102

R.A. Hobbs

R.A. Hobbs was born in Seattle, Washington, and is the proud descendant of Czechoslovakian immigrant coal miners along with a watery and diluted pool of European serfs, and the only child of a Tai Chi barber and a mystical seamstress. Reading and getting lost in books as a child was the catalyst for wanting to write stories and the hope of one day creating a magical experience for another reader is her loftiest goal as a writer. R.A. Hobbs now resides outside of Seattle, happily married to her best friend, and blessed to be raising two remarkable and ingenious children who also happen to be her biggest fan and greatest inspiration. R.A. Hobbs would like to thank her readers for taking a chance on a new author and with many new projects on the way, hopes they'll come back for more. For updates on what she is currently writing you can visit her blog at http://rahobbs.wordpress.com/

Book preview

Rock, Pirate, Ninja

By: R.A. Hobbs

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2013 R.A. Hobbs

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the permission in writing from the author. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Chapter 1

Mitsuru was bored listening to Clan Leader Goemon’s self-righteous drivel. It would be easy to shove in the iPod ear buds and press play, but the way Goemon’s security guards stood and stared at him with such utter contempt, it would most likely invite a challenge. It would be a challenge Mitsuru would win of course, but he was feeling lazy today. Besides, he could sense that Goemon was finally winding down his speech and getting to the point.

You know why you’re here? Goemon asked.

I suppose.

Goemon laughed, Aren’t you such a petulant little teenager.

Perhaps that’s your attraction.

Goemon barely controlled his flinch. That almost got him, Mitsuru smirked.

One of his burly guards moved closer a few inches. Call off your dogs.

Goemon clenched his jaws, staring him down.

Mitsuru pointed with his chin towards the mountain of muscle that was bearing down on him. He’s getting into my personal space, and you know much I hate when people try to move into my bubble.

Goemon clucked at the guard, waving him back like an irritated mother hen. Stop playing around. We have business to discuss.

A tall, bald-headed, Russian, who was sitting across from Mitsuru sighed, Yes, please. We need this taken care of as quickly as possible.

We are all aware of that, Goemon said, but we agreed White Viper would take the lead for this operation.

The Russian nodded, his lips thinned in frustration.

I suppose I should introduce our guest to you. This, my dear Vladimir, is Mitsuru, our finest operative.

Vladimir gave Goemon a doubtful look.

Goemon laughed. You don’t believe me?

I don’t think your bald friend likes me, Mitsuru pouted.

Vladimir ignored Mitsuru, addressing only Goemon, I have my doubts. Your operative seems a little …preoccupied.

Mitsuru snorted loudly. What an arrogant ass, he thought. It was amazing to him how he had managed to survive this long in the business they were in.

I assure you, Mr. Rogov, unorthodox or not, Mitsuru is not only the most successful operative we’ve ever had, but also the most successful in the long history of our clan.

Vladimir Rogov smirked, barely glancing at Mitsuru before quickly downing a shot of vodka and slamming it down on the table. He stood from his seat and gave a curt bow to Goemon, We’ll keep in touch.

Mitsuru leered at him, I’m sure we will.

Vladimir, barely able to control his distaste, turned on his heel and left the room, letting the door close loudly as he left.

I see you are making friends again. Goemon said.

Mitsuru grinned, Oh, we’re going to be pals, for sure.

***

It was obvious to Tetsuo that Vasha was stealing again. The man she was going to relieve of his wallet was clearly infatuated with her, ogling her with lurid eyes, and using any slight bump or shift of the subway car to inch closer to her. Of course, he was playing right into her hands, and what the unlucky fool thought was a flirtatious brush of her arm was an expertly coordinated series of touches used to distract and hypnotize as she conducted a theft in broad daylight.

There was a danger to what she was doing—a danger of being too good and too memorable.

Tetsuo would have been lying if he didn’t recognize the downward wrench of jealousy he felt every time he saw her flirt with another man. He knew it was all an act, but it fooled him into a jealous fit every time he saw it.

In the beginning, Tetsuo worried that maybe she had been playing him like all the other men she toyed with, but he had been with her long enough to know her genuine smiles apart from her fake ones.

Her genuine smile had a shyness to it with an almost uncertain lift; a hopeful worry. The fake one was usually a well-trained mask of sexy confidence. It wasn’t that she never showed Tetsuo her sexy side, but there was a sweetness she kept only for him.

He wondered how she viewed him. What secrets did his face reveal that only she could see?

They squeezed out of the subway car with the rest of the morning commuters at the next station, Tetsuo catching up to her on the stairwell that led to street level.

Must you do it in broad daylight? he whispered to her as they stepped out onto the street.

No one saw. It’s fine, she said dismissively.

Behind them, there was a small commotion and a man yelling, That’s her! Right there! The one with the red hair in the black trench coat! She’s the one who stole my wallet!

Tetsuo turned to see the man Vasha had been flirting with earlier, pushing his way up the stairs with a police officer and pointing at Vasha.

Are you sure about that? Tetsuo asked her, smirking.

Dammit, she muttered. Split up. We’ll meet in Times Square in two hours.

I don’t know where that is. This is my first time in New York.

It’s Times Square, Tetsuo, you can’t miss it, she said, patting his cheek before veering off into the commuter crowd and getting lost within.

He caught her glancing back at him over a man’s shoulder when she yelled out, Just ask someone if you have to.

Tetsuo, picked up his pace, shaking his head as he continued down the street. Ask for directions? he mumbled under his breath, tapping furiously on his smartphone, what Shinobi has ever asked for directions?

She was right of course, Times Square was easy enough to find on his own—with the help of his phone. When he finally caught up with her, Vasha was wearing a completely different outfit complete with a sleek, blonde wig.

You are losing your touch, I think, Tetsuo said as he approached her. Maybe it’s time we stop stealing.

That’s a bit unrealistic, don’t you think? Vasha said. It’s not like we can just settle down and find jobs.

Tetsuo sighed. I know that. But there must be another way.

There isn’t, my dear. Do you think I enjoy being a thief? Taking money from lusty rich men who think because they are wealthy they can have any woman they want?

Tetsuo gave her a lingering glance, while the beginning of a sly smile played along the edges of her mouth. Okay, maybe I do, she shrugged. But that isn’t the point I was trying to make.

Tetsuo nodded, I know the stakes, Vasha.

I admire you.

For what?

For hating what we do. She leaned over and gave him a soft peck on his cheek, her wig dull and scratchy, and with a distinct odor of stale cigarette smoke as it brushed against his face.

When can we take this off? he asked, fingering the strands