Katniss -
My palms are clammy and cold even with Peeta's warm ones wrapped around them. I can't stop trembling.
"Just stay calm," Peeta whispers in my ear. His warm breath tickles my ear, sending a million tingles down my spine. I wish I could relax, but I can't.
Haymitch's plan went off as he intended, but none of us could have foreseen the outcome. The blow back. I can hear the citizens of the Capitol still screaming in the streets below the Tribute Center. The whole building shudders as another Peacekeeper plane flies over. Even through the glass, we can hear the sound of the megaphone.
"Attention all citizens! The Capitol is now under curfew! Anyone who does not vacate the streets in ten minutes will be arrested for causing a disturbance to the peace! Clear the streets!"
Disturbance to the peace. I actually snort at that. The true culprits behind the disturbance are sitting in the penthouse of the Tribute Center, awaiting to hear our punishment. They didn't even let Effie return with us. I hope she made it home all right.
"The baby bomb was genius," Haymitch reassures me and I have to bite back the words I want to throw at him. Bomb is right. "The ball's in their court now. Now we just wait."
Waiting. Waiting to see if I live or die. Waiting to see if he lives or dies. I hate waiting.
The hiss of the apartment door opening turns every head. An escort of four Peacekeepers marches into our sitting room and fans out, making room for Plutarch Heavensbee (the new Game Keeper) and President Snow. I hate both of these men.
"Interesting show you gave us this evening." Plutarch is the first to address us. He actually looks amused when he says this. A big smile plasters his bulbous face as he clasps his hands together. "Biggest audience ratings in years."
President Snow flashes him a scowl, but it doesn't dampen Plutarch's mood. Quite the opposite, Plutarch steps forward with an outstretched palm to me, as though he wants to shake hands.
I look at Peeta who just shrugs and nods. I extend a nervous hand towards Plutarch and he grasps mine firmly in his while he reveals a black cylinder in his left. He prods my hand with it and I flinch as it bites into my palm. He laughs when I jerk my hand away and Peeta and Haymitch leap to my defense.
The Peacekeepers take a threatening step forward but Plutarch waves them away as though they're children in a playground fight.
"Tut, tut," he scolds and waves a finger in the air at Peeta and Haymitch. "We'll have none of that. It's just a drop of blood, after all."
Just a drop of blood? My stomach rolls and I feel the need to wretch, but I can't very well run out of the room.
Plutarch rolls the cylinder over in his fingers and presses a few tiny knobs on the side. In a matter of minutes, a tiny blue light flashes on the end. This seems to make Plutarch happy because he waves the device at President Snow and cheerfully declares, "Positive. Well, there we go. No maybes about it. I believe Rudolf owes me for believing it was a pillow."
President Snow yanks the device from Plutarch's hands and glares down at the flashing blue light. He looks positively murderous. His snake-like tongue licks at his putrid red lips before he speaks.
"So, it's true."
Peeta dares to do what I cannot. I want to run away. I want to bury my head in the toilet bowl and relieve my stomach of the evening's meal. He holds his head high and looks Snow straight in the eyes.
"I wouldn't lie about this," he tells them resolutely. "We had no idea we'd be chosen for the Quarter Quell."
"No." Snow's eyebrows rise high on his brow, it's the thoughtful expression he wears when he's thinking of something particularly sinister. I've grown accustomed to that look. "Yet you could have mentioned it any time before now. Surely you've known."
Haymitch rises to our defense. He brushes a hand through his blonde hair as nonchalantly as he would speaking to his peers. His composure is astonishing to watch. "They're kids, Mr President. Dumb kids at that. I doubt Katniss noticed anything until we told her she was looking a little chubby."
You'll pay for that, I think. But I let him demean me because he's trying to save us.
"And the secret wedding?" Snow counters, a skeptical smile thinning his lips.
"We knew there'd be no time before the games," Peeta chimes in truthfully. "I love Katniss with all my heart."
"You picked the wrong one of us to depend on," I mutter. "I'm not good with showing my emotions. Peeta is."
All eyes turn on me and I know I've said the wrong thing. After Haymitch and Peeta have both tried to take the heat off of me, I just stepped into the fire.
"Miss Everdeen," Snow sneers my name, but he stops and looks thoughtfully at Peeta and I. "Or, should I say, Mrs Mellark? You've put us into a very interesting predicament."
"Oh come now," Plutarch chortles. "Let's not let them think we didn't have a backup plan. Boys and girls will be boys and girls, after all. And our Star Crossed Lovers at that. Well, we had to have -some- fall back plan just-in-case."
Could it be? Did they really consider my pregnancy a possibility? What does that mean? Why did they make me go through this? I shake my head, trying to clear the questions racing through it. I know for a fact that President Snow hates me. I know that I failed him during the Victory Tour and I know that he sees me as the symbol of some uprising, even if I have nothing to do with it. His sights have been set on me since I emerged from the Arena. So what could they possibly have in mind as a contingency?
"Indeed," Snow hisses and every nerve in my body recoils. Whatever it is they have in mind – it isn't in our favor. "Why don't you fill them in, Heavensbee?"
Plutarch seems filled to the brim with joy as he drops his own bomb on us.
"You will be the first ever married couple to enter the Arena and, seeing as you're so far along, I suspect the people of Panem will get quite the show!" He elbows my shoulder and Peeta and Haymitch lunge towards him. The Peacekeeper nearest Haymitch takes a swing and connects with his gut, knocking him to the floor. A second, near Peeta and I, pulls him into a headlock so he cannot move. They won't harm him with the Games starting tomorrow.
"Tut. Tut." Plutarch clicks his tongue. "I reassure you there will be adequate supplies in the Arena to take care of a newborn."
"If you can get to them." Snow's smile has grown from ear to ear. He's never looked so happy in all his life.
"And just think of the sensational news! Caesar is already all a twitter with thinking of catch-phrases and starting an audience poll on baby names!"
I can't believe what I'm hearing. The room becomes a steady static noise hissing in my head. The words have become completely meaningless to me as Plutarch rattles on about how the Capitol intends to capitalize on my baby. I should have known better. I should have guessed. I was so stupid.
"And just think," President Snow's cold voice emerges from the static like an alarm bell. "If they survive, your child will be the symbol for all of Panem. The ultimate symbol of the district's submission."
One day, I'm going to kill him.
*cackles and rubs hands together... cough cough ahem..*