Rissa felt sick.
“What are you talking about? Let me go!” she exclaimed, fighting against him with all her might. “James! James, help me!” she shouted, raising her voice for the first time. She hadn’t wanted to involve the big Kindred in this conflict—especially knowing how angry he got when it came to the Duke. But now things had gotten completely out of control and she needed him to save her.
“Let us see you refuse me once I plant my baby in your belly!” the Duke snarled.
“Let’s see how well you walk once I plant my foot in your ass,” a deep, growling voice said.
Twisting her head around, Rissa saw that James had opened the bathing chamber door and was stalking towards the Duke.
“Oh James, thank goodness!” she gasped. “Help me!”
The Duke turned as well, but he didn’t release his grip on her arm.
“Oh, it’s you, is it?” he snarled at James. “Well you can bloody well leave and go power yourself down, Sir Robot. This is a private matter between myself and my betrothed.”
“I am not your betrothed and I never will be!” Rissa exclaimed. “Let go of me, Sir! I want nothing to do with you!”
“You heard the Princess.” James was still stalking towards them, his metallic blue eyes now blazing a deep, angry red. He seemed to be growing bigger somehow, as though he was swelling with rage. “Let go of her, now!” he snarled at the Duke. “Before I rip your fucking head off!”
His last words were a roar that seemed to shake the entire room and his face was so filled with fury even Rissa was frightened.
The Duke had turned white as a sheet, but still had her by the wrist and wouldn’t—or else couldn’t—let go. To Rissa, he seemed like a man who had clutched something electrified and couldn’t release it because of the current. Only in this case, the current was fear. Whatever it was, it caused him to grip her even harder until the small bones in her wrist ground together and she gasped in pain.
“You…you cannot touch me,” he said to James, his voice going nervously high and shaky. “I am…I am a Peer of the Realm! You cannot lay a finger on me!”
“I’ll do more than lay a finger on you.” James’s voice had dropped to a low, menacing growl. “I’m going to rip your fucking throat out with my teeth!” he snarled and when he opened his mouth, Rissa saw that he had somehow grown fangs. They were long and sharp and curving and they looked completely deadly.
She gasped at the sight and the Duke went even paler and began sweating. Finally, he dropped her hand.
“Look, see? I am no longer holding her!” he said to James, as he began backing away from the big Kindred. Unfortunately, he was backing further into her bedchamber and away from the door. “I will leave her be—I swear it!” he exclaimed.
James shook his head.
“It’s too late for that now,” he growled at the Duke. “I heard the things you said to Ka’rissa—the way you were threatening to spread lies and rumors about her. The way you were threatening to rape her. I’m going to kill you here and now and shut your fucking mouth forever.”
“No—no, please!” Great beads of sweat had broken out on the Duke’s broad forehead and he was trembling as he backed up until his backside met the wooden post of Rissa’s bed. “You cannot kill me,” he exclaimed, putting out both hands as though to try and ward the angry Kindred off. “If you do, you will be indicted for murder!”
“You think I care about that?” James demanded. He was almost within biting distance now, Rissa saw. Oh Goddess, was he really going to rip the Duke’s throat out with his fangs?
“You’ll be tried for murder and condemned,” Duke Grabbington continued, in a shaky voice. “Killing a Peer of the Realm is a hanging offense!”
Rissa felt sick as the reality of what the Duke was saying sank in.
“He’s right, James!” she exclaimed. “Don’t kill him—they really might hang you.”
Her words seemed to cut through the fury that had fallen over the big Kindred. He stopped advancing on the Duke, though he was still close enough to keep the other man cornered.
“What would you have me do, then?” he asked, his voice still thick with rage. “He dishonored you and tried to force himself on you, Princess! I can’t let him get away with that!” He started forward again. “Maybe I should just maul him a bit—rip off his ears and nose, bite off a few fingers…”
“No! You must face me with honor!” the Duke cried. He was shaking now and a dark spot had appeared on his sky-blue satin breeches as the room filled with the reek of his urine. “I…I challenge you to a duel, Sir Robot! If you want satisfaction for whatever crimes you imagine I have committed, you must face me at dawn!”