Poison's Kiss (Poison's Kiss #1)(65)

I’m vaguely aware of a commotion behind me, but I’m frozen in place with fear. The Nagaraja sways his head back and forth, dancelike, until our faces are level. His eyes are so shiny I can see my own reflection—all the terror and awe of it. And then a voice comes into my mind as clearly as if it were spoken out loud.

Daughter.

The weight of the word burrows into my mind and I can feel everything else slipping away, until there is nothing left but the Nagaraja.

I have been waiting for you.

My mind is foggy and I think maybe I’ve been waiting for him too. Or maybe I came here to find him?

I see you, Marinda.

And I feel him there in my mind. Looking, searching. He shakes his head and I can feel his disappointment.

You want all the wrong things. You desire love…but love only makes us stupid.

Love. The word nearly brings a face to my mind, and I turn my head—a young boy crying. An older boy nearby shouting my name. I feel like I should—

Look at me. My gaze swivels back to the Nagaraja and there I am again, reflected in his eyes.

You feel powerless.

Memories flood into my mind—finding out I killed the man with the balloon, watching my friend die after Gopal forced me to kiss him, lying helplessly in Kadru’s arms as the snakes infused me with their venom. No one has ever understood before, but I can feel the Nagaraja there in my mind sharing my pain. Yes. He does see me. He knows. He understands.

You are not powerless, Marinda. The blood of my children runs through your veins. If you serve me, I can make you more powerful than you ever dreamed possible. If you want love, I can make people love you. If you want money, you can have all you wish. Come to me and I will give you the world.

A vision fills my mind of all my life could be. I see myself sitting on a throne, dripping in jewels, surrounded by people who live to serve me. Power. Wealth. Love.

Get the dagger, Marinda.

I go to the man slumped in the corner and pull the dagger from his heart. It makes a sucking sound as it leaves his body. I return to the Snake King, fist clenched around the weapon, my palm sticky with fresh blood, and wait for him to show me what to do.

The Nagaraja laughs. I know you can use this. I watched you. It is a pity. Gopal was a loyal servant. But if you don’t care for him, then it is good that he is dead.

A vague memory tugs at me—did I stab someone? I’m not sure if it’s a real memory or a dream. I have the urge to turn toward the man in the corner, to try to place him, but I don’t want the Nagaraja to stop talking to me. I can’t look away.

You must do something for me, Marinda.

I blink. I’m ready to do anything he asks if he will keep talking to me, keep seeing me.

You must kill him. Kill the boy and we will feast on him together.

My nose is filled with the mouthwatering scent of human flesh. I turn back to the boy on the altar. He is shivering and his eyes are puffy and red. There’s something familiar about him, something just at the edges of my memory, but I can’t quite reach it.

Do it now. Kill him. The Nagaraja’s voice cuts through my mind, sharp and demanding. I raise the dagger.

“Marinda?” Mani’s voice washes over me like sunshine. He is cowering, his face full of fear. I lower the dagger back to my side. Horror wells in my chest.

But then the Nagaraja’s voice is back in my mind, pressing with a force I can’t withstand. Kill the boy! And I know what I must do—now, before I change my mind.

I raise the dagger high above my head and with all the force I can muster, I turn and stab the Nagaraja.





A howl pierces through my mind so painfully that I stumble backward. I scan the length of the Nagaraja’s body for the wound I’m sure will be there, but I have made a huge miscalculation. My tiny dagger was not enough to kill him—not even enough to injure him. Only enough to infuriate him.

I start untying the knots at Mani’s ankles. I have to get him away from here.

Out of nowhere I hear Deven’s voice. “Marinda, watch out!” I whip around just in time to see the Nagaraja’s head plunging toward me. His voice is back in my head. An instant, shrill command: kill him, kill him, kill him. I almost fall under the snake’s spell again, but Mani is calling my name—his is the only voice that keeps the Nagaraja at bay, the only voice stronger than the killer in my head. I remind myself who I am, who I love. It works, but the moment of hesitation was too long.

The snake clamps his jaw down on Mani’s arm, sinking his fangs deep into Mani’s flesh. Mani’s screams turn my blood to ice. I can feel the Nagaraja’s pleasure in biting him, and he doesn’t intend to stop there. I know now that I have no chance of killing the snake, and my mind is scrambling for how to get him away from Mani. Deven charges forward with a sword. He tries to stab the Nagaraja, but the snake is too fast. He twists his body right before Deven can land a blow. Deven pitches forward and falls to the floor. Mani’s screams fade away as he loses consciousness. He’s dying.

Rage explodes in my chest.

I lift the dagger and plunge it into the center of the Nagaraja’s shiny eye.

Pain blasts through my head and black spots dance in my vision. I grope at my face, searching for the sharp tip of metal I can feel there, but I can’t find it. I press a palm to my eye to stem the bleeding and my hand comes away dry. Panic swallows me in a single gulp. I’ll never be able to defeat the Nagaraja if hurting him means hurting myself. Mani’s head lolls to one side, and my stomach lurches forward. I have to do something. If I feel the Nagaraja’s pain, maybe I can force him to feel mine. I let all my anguish come to the surface, not just from this moment, but from years and years of terror wrought by the Nagaraja’s subjects. I focus all my pain until it is as sharp as the tip of a sword, and then I shove it toward the snake and try to invade his mind like he took over mine.