Before Ka’rissa could take a sip of the steaming tea, he knocked the china cup from her hand. It shattered into pieces on the floor, splattering the poisoned liquid at their feet.
32
Rissa sat there, shocked, her hand still held to her mouth though the teacup she had been holding just moments before was now in pieces on the floor.
“What…why…?” she began, looking up at James.
But the big Kindred was already lifting the lid of the teapot and looking inside.
“No!” Rissa gasped, putting out a hand to stop him. “No, you mustn’t!”
“Mustn’t what? Find this?” James demanded.
Using his metal hand—which was impervious to heat or cold, he fished out the limp tangle of honeybell vines Rissa had stuffed into the teapot. He dropped the sopping mass on the table, where it proceeded to leak tea and poison-green sap all over the white tablecloth.
“Why, Ka’rissa?” He was glaring at her now, a dangerous glint in his metallic blue eyes. “Why were you trying to kill yourself?”
“Kill myself? I wasn’t trying to kill myself!” Rissa protested weakly.
“Bullshit,” he growled. Rising, he snatched the teapot off the table and walked to the double doors that led out to the balcony beyond.
“No, wait!” Rissa exclaimed urgently. “Don’t do that!”
“Too late—it’s done.” James upended the teapot, pouring its steaming contents into the decorative oolie hedges below.
Rissa felt a terrible weight growing in her chest.
“James, I needed that tea!” she protested as he came back and plunked the now-empty teapot back on the table with a dull thud.
“Needed it for what—to kill yourself?” he accused again.
“I told you, I was not trying to kill myself!” Rissa protested hotly.
“Then why did you put poisonous honeybell vines in it?” He pointed to the soggy mass of vines in the middle of the table.
“I…” Rissa shook her head, her heart pounding and her throat tight. “I cannot…cannot tell you,” she whispered.
“Ka’rissa…sweetheart…” His voice went suddenly soft and coaxing and he came to kneel in front of her. “I can tell something’s wrong,” he murmured, looking her in the eyes. “You haven’t been yourself since last night and now this morning, you try to drink poisoned tea—tea that you poisoned yourself.”
“I…I needed the tea,” Rissa protested again in a small voice. Her chest was so tight she could barely breathe and her hands were beginning to tremble.
“Tell me why.” James took her hot, shaking hands in his large, cool ones and pressed gently. “Tell me why you think you needed the tea, Ka’rissa,” he murmured.
Suddenly, she couldn’t hold it inside any longer. Though she was certain it would make him despise her, the ugly secret came pouring out.
“Because,” she whispered, her eyes overflowing with tears. “Drinking tea with honeybell vines in it is the only way I can get rid of the baby.”
33
“The baby? What baby?” James looked at the Princess blankly.
Ka’rissa was shaking and crying, the sobs being torn from her throat were painful to hear. All he wanted to do was gather her to him and comfort her, but first he had to get to the bottom of what she was saying.
“What baby?” he asked again.
“The one…the one growing inside me—in my belly.” She put a hand to her stomach and burst into fresh sobs.
James shook his head.
“Are you trying to tell me you’re pregnant?”
“Y-yes.” She nodded her head, tears spilling from her lovely eyes. “I…I must be. My Moon Blood didn’t come last night and I’m never late with my female cycle.”
James shook his head, trying to understand.
“So…you think you’re pregnant just because your menstrual cycle is off?”
“No, not just because of that.” Ka’rissa swiped at her eyes, which were red with weeping. “Because…because…” She shook her head. “Oh James, please don’t make me tell you! You’ll hate and despise me if I tell you.”
Again, he had that feeling of a cruel hand squeezing his heart. Her pain—gods, it was so hard to watch! And yet, he didn’t want to get away from it—all he wanted to do was hold her close and comfort her.
“Sweetheart,” he murmured, reaching up to stroke one hot, flushed cheek. “Nothing you could tell me would make me despise you.”
“This would,” she insisted, tears still leaking down her cheeks. “Oh, James—I’m so ashamed! But you must know, I never asked for it! He did it before I could stop him.”
Concern and the desire to comfort her turned to Rage is a split second. A red curtain fell over his vision, making everything look bloody and dim. At the same time, James felt an animalistic growl rise in his chest. He had heard other warriors talk about going into Rage when their female was threatened, but he had never expected to have anything like that happen to him.
It’s not supposed to happen, because I’m not supposed to be having all these emotions! he thought. But it didn’t seem to matter to his body that he shouldn’t be going into Rage—the red curtain had dropped and the fury he felt filled and encompassed him unlike any emotion he had yet felt.