Poison's Kiss (Poison's Kiss #1)(47)

“Well, I’m sorry that your girlfriend can’t be here to spare you from dealing with me,” I shoot back. “But I’m all you’ve got.”

He studies me with a furrowed brow. “Iyla’s not my girlfriend,” he says. “I wish she were here because she might know where the Naga would hide Mani.”

“Now look who’s lying,” I say, and I can’t quite keep the bitterness out of my voice.

He raises one eyebrow in the maddening way that he does. “You’re saying you know for a fact that I have a girlfriend that I’m not aware I have?”

“I saw you kiss her,” I say.

“When?”

“About a week ago. You were standing outside her house and it looked like the two of you were saying goodbye.”

Deven’s eyes narrow. “And where were you?”

My cheeks heat. “Hiding behind a topiary elephant.”

“Why?”

“Don’t change the subject.”

He sighs. “Iyla works with me,” he says. “I thought you would have figured that out by now.” I swallow hard. Is that the story she fed him? That she was helping him in some way?

“No,” I say. “I’m sorry that she lied to you, but Iyla works with me.”

He shakes his head and it makes my pulse spike with anger. He’s so sure he has all the answers.

“Iyla grew up with me,” I say. “We’ve worked together since we were small. Are you suggesting that I’m so delusional I imagined it?”

“Of course not.” He stands up and goes to the kitchen. I hop off the bed and follow him.

“What, then?”

Deven opens one of the cabinets, pulls out a glass and fills it with water. “Iyla decided to leave the Naga two years ago. She came to our group—”

“What group?” I interrupt. I don’t believe that Iyla was really working with Deven—she was tasked with helping me kill him, after all—but maybe if he keeps talking, I’ll be able to make sense of what she was doing.

He hesitates. “We’re spies for the Raja,” Deven says. Spies for the Raja. Suddenly all the pieces fall into place—the whispered conversations with Japa, the comments about being loyal to the kingdom, Deven’s knowledge about how the Widows’ Village came to be.

And my orders to kill him.

Deven is serving the master I grew up believing I was serving. He searches my face and then continues. “We call ourselves the Pakshi,” he says. Pakshi. Bird.

“Is that why you like Garuda?” I say, remembering his tattoo. And—my stomach twists—Iyla’s earrings.

Deven takes a long drink of water before answering. “We don’t just like Garuda. We believe that Garuda is the key to stopping the Naga.” The key to stopping the Naga?

“You don’t mean that the whole Raksaka lives? That they’re all more than legend?”

Deven gives me a curious look, and then understanding dawns on his face. “Your handlers didn’t teach you from the histories,” he says. It’s not a question.

I bite my lip. I hate the sense of powerlessness that comes from ignorance. “No,” I say. “They didn’t.”

Something shifts in his expression, and for the first time in days he’s not looking at me like I’m a liar. “Okay,” he says. “What do you know?”

“That there are four members of the Raksaka,” I say. “That they are the protectors of Sundari.”

“Is that all?”

I play with the hem of my sleeve. “That they are on our coins and our flags,” I say. “And the uniforms of Sundari’s soldiers.” I try to think if there is anything else I know, but I can’t come up with anything. My cheeks are warm.

Deven doesn’t speak for a moment. He just watches me, a dozen emotions flickering across his face. Finally he clears his throat. “The Raksaka was composed of four members. The bird, Garuda, to rule the skies, the tiger to rule the land, the crocodile to rule the waters, and the snake to rule the underground. For years they lived in perfect balance, no animal more powerful than the other. But the snake wanted more power. He craved it.” Deven leans against the counter and folds his arms across his chest. “The only way for a member of the Raksaka to gain power was to gain followers, and so the snake began to search for humans who wanted power too—humans who would be willing to follow the snake, and the snake alone. As the snake gained supporters, he grew.”

I swallow. “His power grew, you mean?”

Deven nods. “His power, yes. But also his body. As the balance of power shifted, the snake physically grew. He grew massive.”

Gooseflesh races across my skin. “And the other animals?”

“Got smaller,” Deven says. “Eventually the snake learned how to transfer some of his power to humans, and they began to kill the followers of the rest of the Raksaka.” I press the back of my hand to my mouth. Humans like me. Humans who killed on command. “Which, of course, only made the snake’s power stronger.

“When the snake was strong enough,” Deven continues, “he came up from the underground and set fire to the world.” With a lurch I remember the illustration from the ancient book Japa showed me—the villagers running from a snake with fire bursting from its mouth.