Chapter 20
The halls had a carnival atmosphere, with the screams and shouts, the lights and sounds, and colors flashing. Although she could tell they were illusions, it didn’t stop them from being any less frightening.
Gemma refused to give up, however. She would find Cal and they would escape at whatever cost. The knowledge that the Guardian was inside her, that shewasthe Guardian, had given her a confidence she’d never experienced before. She couldn’t let the hallucinations scare her off. This was life or death, and she wouldn’t go down without a fight.
On the blue ward, she heard a familiar voice. Gemma crept forward, peeking through a door that was partially ajar.
Inside, Charlie was on her knees, tears rolling down her cheeks. It seemed like she was holding something, but her arms were empty. In front of her stood Grimm. “Charlene, get up.” His voice was rough.
“He’s dead. You killed him!”
Her best friend’s voice was filled with so much agony that Gemma pushed her way through the door without thinking. “What happened?”
Grimm looked back over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing. Then he turned back without responding.
“Brian,” Charlie wailed, and Gemma could finally make out the faint outline of a child in her friend’s arms. She gasped when she realized the little boy shared the same features as the child that was in the holo-pictures that decorated the walls of Charlie’s room.
Charlie’s little brother, the one she loved more than life, lay dead in her arms.
“Wake up, Brian,” she whimpered, gently patting the boy’s cheeks.
“Oh, Charlie, no,” Gemma said, unsure of how to persuade the woman that this was all an illusion. With Charlie’s condition, she was unlikely to receive that information.
Before Gemma could say anything else, Grimm fell to his knees. “Charlene, he’s not dead. This isn’t your brother.”
“Bullshit!” she screamed so raggedly that Gemma almost covered her ears. “You fucking murderer!”
Gemma circled close enough to see the look of anguish that took up residence on Grimm’s face. “Damn you, Sanri,” he muttered, then pushed his way to Charlie, grabbing her.
“Stop!” Charlie shouted, convinced that his movements were jostling the body. She shoved at the Seeker, who persisted.
“Let me help,” Gemma whispered, her words for Charlie but her eyes on Grimm’s face. He stared at her for a moment, undecided, then gave a short nod. Gemma bent down and took the image of the boy from Charlie’s arms. She was gentle but didn’t let Charlie keep her hold on the child when she resisted.
Her best friend collapsed in a heap on the floor, sobbing so hard Gemma was afraid she was hurting herself. Grimm was on her in a second, pulling her toward him again.
“No!” she screamed, slapping and kicking at the Seeker. “Get the fuck away from me, murderer!”
Gemma bit her lip, not sure what to do.
Grimm held her tight. “I didn’t kill him. This isn’t happening.”
“I saw you! You snapped his neck like a chicken’s. He’s fucking dead and you did it! Why?”
“I swear to you, Charlene, I never laid a hand on your brother!”
“You should let her go,” Gemma said at last, hating to see her friend like this.
“I’ll never let her go,” Grimm snarled, his bright eyes so cold she recoiled. “And you won’t take her from me. You hear that, Guardian?”
Gemma stiffened. He knew what she was. She supposed she’d blown her own cover by dropping the catatonic act when she’d seen her friend. Gemma hadn’t even thought about it, so overcome with concern for Charlie that she’d acted on instinct. And that simple lapse might get her killed.
Gemma nodded. She didn’t know what his power might be, but she couldn’t count on an immunity to it. Although she might be able to see past Sanri’s illusions, she couldn’t assume her Guardianhood made her able to withstand other assaults.
“Please don’t hurt her,” she said at last.
Grimm frowned, running his hand over Charlie’s head as she continued to struggle and beg for release. “I could never hurt her. And I’ll kill anyone who does.”
“Someone’s hurting her right now,” Gemma pointed out. “I’ve never seen her like that.”
