Poison's Kiss (Poison's Kiss #1)(64)

And then I see him.

In the center of the semicircle is a stone altar. Mani sits on top, his hands and feet bound, fat tears crawling down his cheeks. I launch myself toward him, trampling over one of the Naga to make my way into the circle. The chanting dies away and the room breaks into confusion. I’m almost there. Mani sees me and relief floods his face, which only makes him cry harder. I get to him and pull on the rope tied around his wrists. I’ve almost got it loose when an arm circles my waist and drags me away from the altar. Mani screams, and it echoes through the cavern.

“Marinda, stop this instant.” Gopal’s lips are against my ear. I stop for a moment, and then when he relaxes his grip, I elbow him hard in the stomach. He lets go and I race toward Mani again, but I’m too slow. Gopal wrenches my arm so hard I’m afraid he’s broken it. I cry out and stop struggling.

“That’s a good girl,” Gopal whispers. And then he raises his voice and addresses the group. “My apologies,” he says. “This is our visha kanya and she’s feeling a little feisty today.” A few nervous laughs come from the circle. “I’m afraid she’s gotten rather fond of our sacrifice and now thinks she can keep it,” he says, and then squeezes both of my shoulders affectionately. “Entirely my fault. I’ve pampered her a little too much.”

Rage flies through me. I try to kick Gopal, but he twists my arm again and pain shoots from my wrist to my shoulder. Where are the Raja’s soldiers? Why aren’t they here apprehending the Naga? The others in the circle start to whisper to each other, and for a moment I have some hope that they might oppose Gopal, that they might let Mani and me go. But then Gopal clears his throat, and the cavern falls silent except for Mani’s sobbing.

“Have no doubt,” he says loudly, “that our dear Marinda will behave herself once the sacrifice is finished.”

“Don’t you dare touch him!”

“Silly girl. He was nothing but an experiment. Unfortunately, he can’t hold his poison as well as you can, my dear.” Gopal must see the horror on my face, because he laughs. “We had hoped to have someone the Naga could count on to kill our female enemies, but alas, the boys all seem to die eventually.”

I flail around, but I can’t seem to land a blow. Gopal just holds me tighter and whispers in my ear—Shh, shh—like I’m a baby who needs comforting.

“This child is the last thing keeping Marinda from being fully in our midst,” he tells the Naga. “Once he is gone, she will embrace us as family.”

“I will never become one of you,” I say through clenched teeth. “Never.”

“We’ll see,” he says softly. He turns back to the group. “Let us continue summoning the Nagaraja. I will restrain the girl.” The Naga begin chanting again and panic blooms in my chest. Gopal’s grip on me is like a vise, and no matter how I struggle, I can’t get away. And then I remember the dagger in my waistband. I stop fighting and let my body go limp. “Good girl,” Gopal says. Beyond the altar, from a round hole in the floor of the cavern, smoke begins to rise, and with it the musky smell of snake. The chanting grows louder, more urgent. Gopal’s grip relaxes as he begins to chant along with the other Naga. I twist my body slightly, pretending that I am as transfixed by the ritual as he is. I use my uninjured hand to reach for the dagger. Gopal looks at me, but I keep my eyes trained on the smoke.

“See?” he says. “Isn’t it wonderful?”

“I’m so sorry,” I tell him.

His eyes soften. “Oh, Marinda,” he says, his voice full of love. Because he thinks I am apologizing for resisting him, for not wanting the life he gave me, for loving Mani.

I give my body one last twist and plunge the dagger into Gopal’s heart. His eyes go wide with shock and betrayal as he stumbles backward. He touches his chest, and his fingers come away soaked in blood. He holds them up to his face and stares at them like he can’t quite make sense of what’s happening.

He reaches out a hand toward me, and I can’t tell if he’s beckoning me to come closer or pointing a finger of accusation. His mouth opens and closes, fishlike, but he’s not making a sound. He continues to stagger back until he’s pressed against the cave wall, until it’s the only thing holding him in place. His gaze lands on my face and stays fastened there.

My heart gives one slow beat and a moment of clarity shivers between us—the realization that, despite everything, he was only human and just as easily killed as any other man.

And then he slumps to the ground.

I run toward Mani and untie his hands. He throws his arms around my neck. “I love you,” he says.

I bury my face in the soft skin of his neck. “I love you too, monkey. I love you so much.”

I hear a collective gasp behind me and whip my head toward the smoke.

The Snake King has arrived.

My entire body goes rigid.

The Nagaraja makes even Kadru’s largest snake look no bigger than an earthworm. As he slinks from the hole in the rock, his head skims the top of the cavern—and that’s with at least half of his body still submerged beneath the ground. Fully stretched out, he must be at least as tall as the palace. His skin is snow white and his beady black eyes are the size of human fists. He seems to survey the crowd, until his gaze fixes on me and Mani. The Nagaraja lets out a hiss that makes my blood run cold. Huge droplets of yellow venom drip from his fangs and splat on the ground.