my failed tantrika turned preacher,” Takshak sneered. “What amazing faith you still flaunt!” A sly smile curved his dry lips. “I wonder how long it would survive under the threat of an executioner’s sword? Would you crumple like Hariaksa, who offered me your life for his own? I refused, of course, swore I’d get you without his help. And I have, have I not?” 

Ishvari’s heart swelled with sorrow; Takshak believed his own lies. Suddenly, it was critically important that she battle the demon waiting for him to die in order to drain the last of his once prodigious prana. The fire rumbled, disturbed by her dangerous thoughts, even as the demon stared back at her through Takshak’s yellow eyes—voracious, cunning, insidious. She recoiled, coming to her senses&md...

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