Poison's Kiss (Poison's Kiss #1)(15)

“What do you carve?”

“All kinds of things. Animals, spoons, chairs, face masks. I’ve been itching to carve patterns in Japa’s bookshelves for months, but I don’t think he’d appreciate it. Now your turn. What do you do for fun?”

I come here for fun—or I did before Gopal stole it from me—but I can’t tell him that. “I like to read,” I say, which is almost the same thing.

Deven motions toward the bookshelves. “Obviously,” he says.

“Not obviously. I could just enjoy shelving books and never read at all. Or I could just need the money.”

“Do you?”

My cheeks heat. “No, but that isn’t the point.”

“Yes, it is,” he says. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

I’m an assassin. I was supposed to kill someone today, but he never showed. My brother might be dying. My throat feels thick. Is that all there is to me? I slide down to the floor and rest my head on the wall. Deven sits beside me, still waiting for an answer. “I like sunsets,” I tell him, “and the sound of crickets chirping and looking up at the stars.”

“You like nighttime,” he says after a moment, and this strikes me as incredibly insightful to understand so quickly from so little. Night has always been safer than daylight.

“And I have a cat,” I tell him just for good measure, just to make me seem more like a normal person. Normal people have pets, I think.

He laughs. “I saw the cat when I walked you home the other day.” That’s right, he did. It seems like forever ago. He leans his head back against the wall next to mine, and we both just sit there in companionable silence staring at the ceiling. Deven glances outside. “I was supposed to leave hours ago,” he says. “I’d better get going.” He stands up and offers me his hand. I take it and he pulls me to my feet. “I think we scared Japa away,” he tells me. “I’ll go tell him goodbye.”

He walks away, and suddenly I feel sheepish that I’ve made Japa feel awkward about being in the main room of his own shop. I’m mortified that he saw me break down like that. I press a hand to my forehead. This has been such a long day and I can’t wait to crawl into bed and go to sleep.

Deven comes out of the storeroom with his bag slung over one shoulder. “It was nice talking to you, Marinda,” he says.

I nod. “Thank you for…well, you know, for everything.”

He grins at me, with both sides of his mouth, and it feels like standing in a patch of sunlight on a chilly day. “Anytime,” he says, plunking several coins down on the countertop.

I raise my eyebrows. “What’s this for?”

He slips a book out of his bag. “I’m taking this one,” he says. It’s several inches thick and bound in jade-green leather. The cover illustration is one of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen. A majestic bird flying through the air with an enormous snake dangling from its beak. Below that are dozens of people, their faces tipped toward the heavens in awe. But it’s the top of the book that makes my heart stop.

Because there, in big block print, are the words I’ve been dreading all day: The History of Sundari.





All the heat drains from my face. The room feels like it’s spinning and I hold on to the edge of the countertop for support. Not him! my mind screams. Please, not him!

“Marinda,” Deven says. “It’s okay. Japa knows I’m taking the book.”

Someone else knows he’s taking the book too. Someone else thought he’d leave with it hours ago. I still haven’t spoken. My mind is scrambling for what to say, for what to do.

“What’s wrong?”

I try to pull myself together, to arrange my expression into something less horrified. “Nothing,” I say, waving my hand in front of my face. “Just a long day.”

“Are you sure?”

I nod. “I’m sure.”

Three steps. It will take me three steps to get to him and only a moment to put my arms around his neck, only a moment more to kiss him. It could all be over in a few seconds.

I don’t move.

Gopal told me the men we were targeting were evil, a threat to the kingdom, enemies of the Raja. These small truths have been my only solace for years. But Deven—I think of the way he carried Mani on his shoulders all the way back to our flat, the way he held me while I trembled. I can’t do this. I won’t.

Deven squeezes my hand. “I’ll see you soon,” he says. He pushes the door open and is swallowed up by the crowd.

The relief that washes over me lasts only a moment. Deven is safe for now, but if Gopal wants him dead, he’ll be dead. I’m not Gopal’s only option.

I stay in the bookshop until closing, and Japa’s face is lined with concern as he hugs me goodbye. “You’re sure there’s nothing I can do?” he asks me for what must be the fourth time.

“I’m fine, Japa,” I tell him. “Really I am.”

He shakes his head. “You’re not a very good liar,” he says. His tone is playful, but a chill runs through me. I’m a better liar than he knows. “But if you need anything, Marinda…if things are bad at home…well, know that I’m here.”

Tears prickle at the backs of my eyes. He sounds so sincere, and for a moment I’m tempted to tell him everything and beg him for help. Help to hide, help to run, help to escape. But I know that if I don’t show up at the flat soon, I’ll never see Mani again, so I just nod. “Thank you,” I tell him, and then I leave before he can say anything else. Before he can tempt me to trust him with the truth.