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

“I have to. Mani needs me.”


“Marinda, you promised him you’d stay. Get some rest. Wait until morning.”

I chew on the corner of my lip. I want nothing more than to run all the way to Kadru’s tent and demand that she help me. But Japa is right. Mani would be devastated to wake up and find me gone. “Fine,” I tell him. “I’ll leave at first light.”

Before I go to bed, I take a damp cloth and wipe down every inch of the bookcase in front of the safe room until it gleams like all the others. I close the door behind me and wedge a rolled-up rug into the space at the bottom of the door to block any breeze from escaping into the room above us.

Mani doesn’t stir when I pull a second pallet beside him. As I crawl into my makeshift bed and close my eyes, a kernel of hope takes root in my chest—there’s a chance I can find a way to heal Mani, a chance we can finally escape. It occurs to me that this is the first time in as long as I can remember that I’m falling asleep in a bed Gopal doesn’t own. And even with the horrible day I’ve had, the thought makes me smile.





I stand outside Kadru’s tent the next morning with my heart in my throat. All the way here I was full of fiery indignation, ready to make demands and insist on answers. But now the thought of facing the snakes has turned my resolve slushy. I wipe my palms against my sari and try to breathe through my nose. I love Mani more than I fear the snakes. I faced the snakes to get the toxin for Deven and I can do it again to find answers for the antidote.

“Kadru,” I call out, and my voice betrays me by trembling. “Kadru?”

She opens the flap and greets me with a wide smile. “I told you we’d be meeting again soon,” she says. I bristle at her self-satisfied tone, but I don’t say anything. Kadru is dressed in scarlet today. Her hair is plaited in hundreds of tiny braids that are twisted into a wreath on top of her head. Rubies hang from her earlobes and neck. Her fingernails, toenails and lips are all painted the same bright crimson.

“Don’t just stand there, Marinda,” Kadru says. “Come in.” She pulls the flap wider—white snakes cover every surface, and I have to swallow my fear to move forward into the tent. I keep my eyes trained on my sandals. I try to breathe deeply, but pulling in more air only intensifies the musky reptilian smell that makes me want to gag.

Kadru turns to face me. “Was there a reason for your visit, darling? Or did you just miss me?”

My stomach twists and I’m not sure if it’s nausea or anger. I focus my whole attention on Kadru’s face, try to pretend we’re alone so that I can speak to her without distraction. “I need to ask you about an antidote.”

“An antidote?” She laughs. “Oops. Did you give your boyfriend too much venom?”

I shake my head. “No, he’s not my boyfriend and it’s not for him. It’s for my brother.”

“Your brother?” Her confusion looks genuine. “Oh, you mean that little boy Gopal gave you for a pet?”

I go hot all over. “Mani is not a pet.”

“I never said pets were bad, Marinda. Look around—I adore my pets.” I refuse to look and she sniffs as if offended. “Either way, I can’t help you.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t have an antidote.”

She has to be lying. “How could you not? Look around.” I throw her own words back at her but she just holds my gaze, and when she speaks, her voice is gentle.

“I tolerate the snakes the same way you do, my darling. I’m immune.”

“You really don’t have an antidote?”

She shakes her head sadly. “I really don’t. I can’t think of a single reason why I would ever need one.”

“But…” I’m at a loss for words. If Kadru can’t help me with this, there is no one else who can. I press a hand to my forehead. There must be something.

“What about the Raja?” I ask. “If you could tell me how to contact him—how to get through the guards at the palace—maybe he could help.”

Kadru’s eyes widen. “Surely you don’t think you belong to that Raja.”

My stomach goes cold and my pulse is beating out a warning. “What other Raja would there be?”

Her mouth pulls down at the corners and she strokes one of the snakes absently. Her jeweled fingers send light bouncing around the walls of the tent.

“What other Raja?” I repeat more forcefully. Kadru meets my eyes.

“The Nagaraja,” she says softly. I take a step back.

“Nagaraja? The Snake King? No, that can’t be right. Gopal always said…” I stop talking, trying to remember what Gopal said. Did he ever specifically say the Raja of Sundari? I can’t remember. Kadru is watching me carefully, studying my face in a way that sends gooseflesh racing up my arms. There’s something almost sad in her expression.

“He really never told you?”

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