Poison's Kiss (Poison's Kiss #1)(51)

Deven finds me standing in the middle of the room with my hands pressed to my cheeks. He squeezes my shoulder.

“Mani’s not here, Marinda. Time to go.”

“Maybe he’s in the other wing?”

Deven lifts an eyebrow. “What other wing?”

“On the other side of the dining room. I’ve never been there, but…” And then the realization washes over me. It’s where Gopal said the other girls lived, through the dining-room door, which was always kept locked. I always pictured a hallway full of rooms, full of friends that I would never meet. I hurry to the forbidden door and turn the knob. It’s not another wing—just a bedroom, the only room in the whole building that looks lived in. Another wing exists no more than the other vish kanya do.

“Forget it,” I say. “Let’s go.” I wipe at my eyes. How will we ever find Mani?

We leave through the front door. There’s no reason to sneak now, no one to hide from. We cross to the other side of the street and start back the way we came. We’ve gone only a few steps before I stop.

“Wait,” I say, “we can’t leave yet.”

“What? But he wasn’t there, Marinda. I checked every room.”

“Gita will be back.” And as I say it out loud, I’m certain it’s true. Since I was little, Gita has had the same routine: a cup of ginger tea in the evening, followed by a long walk. Then she returns to reheat the pot and have a final cup before bedtime. If she had left for good, she would have washed the teapot, dried it, put it away. Gita can’t bear loose ends. She is walking through the neighborhood right now—I know it like I know the feel of my hand in hers, like I know that her skin smells like jasmine.

We wait crouched behind a tree for more than an hour. My eyes stay fixed on the girls’ home, but the darkness deepens and there’s no sign of Gita. With every moment my despair grows. I’m about to suggest giving up, when I see a dark shape emerge from the shadows. I would know that gait anywhere.

Before I can even think about it, I’m racing across the street toward her. She looks up and freezes. “Where is he?” I shout. Her eyes widen and she takes a step back. For a moment I half expect her to turn and run. Instead she fixes me with a steely gaze.

“I warned you, Marinda,” she says. “I told you not to push Gopal any further.”

I grab her arm and dig my fingers into her flesh. “Where is he?” Deven comes to my side and puts a hand on my back.

“I think you’d better answer her question,” Deven says. He says it softly, but there’s an edge to his voice that sends a shiver down my spine.

Gita looks back and forth between us. “I don’t know.”

Rage floods through me. I won’t get this close to finding Mani only to have Gita lie to me yet again. I squeeze her arm harder. “If you don’t tell me where he is, I will have Deven hold you down while I plant a loving kiss full on your lips. You’ll be dead within the hour.”

“Marinda,” she says reproachfully. “Don’t do this. You aren’t this girl.” The maternal quality to her voice makes my stomach turn. She has no right.

“I am exactly this girl. I became exactly what you raised me to be. And if you don’t tell me where my brother is, I promise I will kill you.”

Gita blanches. “Gopal didn’t tell me where they are keeping him,” she says.

“What did he tell you?” I ask.

She slides her gaze away and I shake her. “What did he tell you?”

When she lifts her head again, I can see tears glinting in her eyes. “Gopal thinks you will be able to focus better once Mani is gone,” she says. I suck in a sharp breath.

“What do you mean when he’s gone?”

Teardrops tumble from her lashes. “Gopal is planning on taking Mani to the Raja,” Gita says. Anger boils in my stomach that she’s still saying “the Raja,” that she’s still lying even now.

“You mean the Nagaraja?”

Gita nods. And then suddenly I remember something Kadru said, and horror wells in my chest.

“What is Gopal going to do?” I whisper.

Gita wipes at her eyes. “It will be better for you without him,” she says. “You can fulfill your purpose without distraction.”

I slap her hard across the face. “What is he going to do?”

Gita presses her palm against her cheek. “I’m sorry, Marinda. But the Nagaraja must be fed.”





Deven sweeps his foot under Gita and has her flat on her back in an instant. She lets out a yelp of surprise, which Deven silences with a hand at her throat. “When?” he asks. “When are the Naga planning to feed the Snake King?” Gita struggles, but Deven is too strong for her. When she finally stops moving, he releases the pressure at her neck.

She gasps for air and then begins coughing. Deven’s face is impassive as he waits for her to catch her breath. “When?” he asks again when she falls silent. She doesn’t answer right away, and so he moves his hand back toward her throat.

“Wait,” she gasps. His hand freezes inches above her neck. “At the full moon,” she says. “The Nagaraja always eats on the first night of a full moon.”

I look up at the sky. The moon is a waxing gibbous, well over half full. We have perhaps four days.