Page 81 of Susan, You're the Chosen One

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 allindulged 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. Theytookher, 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