Epilogue
Cecil wouldn’t stop crying. Balled-up tissues were scattered all over the kitchen floor, gathering in messy piles like tumbleweed against the designer furniture.
He clomped towards me, still on his two hind legs, holding the little cup of espresso between his hooves.
A stream of boogers poured from his snout.
It was a good thing that Bart had taken Audrina out to get ice cream, or else she’d be wondering where the sad ghost noises were coming from.
Audrina needed cheering up. I made her reach out to her mother, Jessica, by email, first thing in the morning to let her know she was safe, and she’d contact her soon.
She got a message back almost immediately, but it wasn’t from her mother.
It was from Jessica's lawyer, who demanded Audrina go home immediately, or there would be horrific consequences. We had no idea what those consequences would be, but judging by the fact that she’d activated her lawyers, I assumed Audrina would be disinherited and buried in lawsuits the second she turned eighteen.
Jessica had already brought out the big guns, and we hadn’t even started the battle yet. If she caught wind that Audrina was in the building next door, hiding out with me, a recently released psychiatric patient… I’d be in deep shit.
I wasn’t worried. Not yet, anyway. But Audrina was distraught.
Just like everyone else around here.
“Here’s your cof-of-of-of-fee,” Cecil sobbed, holding the cup out to me. “Cho-oh-oh-oh-sen. Can I get you”—sniff—“anything el-hel-hel-se?”
“Cecil,” I sighed. “Please sit down.”
“No,” he cried. “I am not worthy of sitting. If I must rest, I will lie down in the dirt, where I belong.”
“We’re on the fiftieth floor, Cecil. There’s no dirt up here.”
“I’ll bury myself down in the basement like the worm I am!”
“For God's sa—” I huffed out a breath. “For the last time, it wasn’t your fault!”
“I wasn’t with you, Chosen. You got attacked in your own home by our worst enemy, and I wasn’t there for you!”
“No. You were too busy protecting me in another way, Cecil. I’ll always be grateful you stood up to Vincent for me.”
The stranglehold my ex-husband had on my heart was gone. I could almost feel it physically. Vincent wasn’t the man I loved. He never had been.
The man I loved didn’t exist. Instead of mourning him like he was dead, I mourned the love that never was.
“That human?” Cecil sniffed and tossed his mane back dramatically. “He was not even worth the effort. I got carried away.”
“You chased him, bleeding and crying, all the way into the bay. He had to get rescued by the marine unit.”
Cecil’s lips wobbled. “And I left you in your greatest time of need. Oh, I bring shame on my whole family!”
“I thought you hated your family.”
“If I wanted to shame them, Chosen, I would have carpeted the bathroom, put a plastic laminate countertop in the kitchen, and painted a feature wall in primary colors in every room. I wouldn’t ever do something so embarrassing like leaving my charge alone to get attacked by a mad tyrant!”
“I’m fine, Cecil.”
I was fine now, anyway. I broke a habit of a lifetime and even tried to take the day off work, just so I could recover. Yvette approved it, urging me to rest, and come back fresh after the long weekend.
I only lasted two hours before I got fed up with all the brooding and dragged myself into the office.
And it was a good thing I did. Not only was I managing my own team, but I also had Ritchie’s team to cover. Richie, apparently, had sent a curt text message to Yvette yesterday, resigning effective immediately. According to his office cronies, Richie had a family emergency.
In Alaska. He wouldn’t be coming back. The promotion just had to be signed off by the executives, and it was mine.
Cecil sniffed back an escaping long dribble of snot. “Oh, I will never recover! Never!”
I swore under my breath. Donovan had been bad enough to have to deal with in the fallout of his brother’s attack. If tortured brooding was an Olympic sport, Donovan would win every single medal. He also blamed himself for Connor attacking me.
At least he was quiet about it. Cecil was driving me crazy.
They all blamed themselves. Cress, Nate, and Eryk all indulged in a little self-flagellation when they returned to Violet House and stumbled upon Donovan and me, bleeding all over each other on the floor of the drawing room.
Luckily, the ragged cut on Donovan’s chest was mostly healed by Nate’s first-aid glowing hands.
He’d healed my bruised neck, too, although my throat was still scratchy and sore.
Connor had disappeared. I’d been hoping we’d find him later, splattered like a goth watermelon on the sidewalk, but Cress reported seeing a bright flash of green light outside Violet House as they were running towards us.
There was no trace of him anywhere, so they could only assume he’d opened a mini-pocket dimension and disappeared rather than do the convenient thing and fall to his death.
He was out there somewhere, planning his next move, his next attack. Deciding on his next target. The company was out there in the city, trying to find traces of him right now.
None of them were surprised Connor had fooled Violet House, though, and confused her enough she didn’t know which twin was which.
I found it odd, until Cress patiently explained that at one point or another, Connor had fooled all of them.
Apparently he’d impersonated Donovan on a number of occasions with devastating consequences.
None of them would elaborate any further.
I didn’t understand it. Donovan and Connor felt like opposites to me. They didn’t even look alike. Connor was just a man. Donovan was…
He was the full moon on a dark night. He was gravity, holding me to the earth. He was an avenging angel. A living god. My walking salvation.
“Oh, no,” I moaned, slumping on the table.
“What have I done now?” Cecil wailed.
“It’s not you.” Dread settled in my belly. This was the worst thing that could possibly happen. “It’s me.”
I was falling in love with Donovan.
The front door slammed open, and Bart rushed in, his face pale, shaking from head to toe.
I leapt to my feet. “Bart! What is it?”
He stared at me, his eyes wide. “They’ve taken her. They took her, Susan. They thought she was you!”
Audrina. Oh, God, no.
“Who, Bart?” I demanded. “Who took her?”
He swallowed roughly. “The berserkers.”
TO BE CONTINUED