Page 137 of Winterveil

Giselle’s mind whirled. It had seemed flawless, everything solid around them, real enough to touch and feel. Including the vision of the men in the tunnel. Yet they had been there one moment and gone the next, removed from existence in a blink.

“But . . . ,” she started, “when we were in the tunnel, when your men were running toward us, they just . . . disappeared. Did you remove them from the Dreamscape?”

“No,” Deckard said. “You did.”

“Me? How?”

“There are limits to how much we are able to control the Dreamscape externally,” said Professor Blanchard. “The minds that are used to shape it are much more competent at manipulating its reality. Think of it like a chain: We put images into your mind, and then your mind feeds them into the Dreamscape. Given your remarkable recall, you are able to re-create what we show you. Perfectly.”

“So all those videos you forced me to watch, those pictures you showed me,” she said slowly, “that was all for me to feed into the Dreamscape?”

“You are our greatest asset in the war now, Giselle.” Professor Blanchard’s eyes were fixed and bright. “No one is able to manipulate the Dreamscape more adeptly than you. You are our most powerful weapon.”

Giselle shook her head. “No. I’m not—I can’t. I’m not a weapon.”

“You can,” said Professor Blanchard. “And you are. You’ve already killed for us.”

Within a moment, ice flooded her veins. “What?”

“Those men you saw in the tunnel were CIA employees,” said Deckard, “sent into the Dreamscape to make the simulation more convincing for you.”

“No,” she repeated. “No, I . . .”

“You used your influence over the Dreamscape’s architecture to make them disappear,” Professor Blanchard continued. “And, in doing so, you ended their lives in the real world, too. Left their brains burnt and smoking like a dead engine.”

The ground seemed to shift under her feet. Six. There had been six of them. Six men with names, with homes, with families, with histories and futures. She had stolen that from them. Without ever wielding a weapon or pulling a trigger, she had killed.

“I’m a murderer,” she choked out.

“It is a bit unfortunate,” Deckard admitted. “Those were some of my most efficient employees.”

The room spun. Giselle launched herself toward the door, but Deckard stepped swiftly in front of her, blocking the exit.

She dropped to her knees and hung her head, whimpering.

“I’ll take it from here,” said Professor Blanchard. “Thanks for delivering her.”

“See you soon, Adam.”

And then Deckard was gone. The door to the lab shut behind him with another hiss of steam.

Giselle remained on her knees, staring at the floor. Her eyes burned but she couldn’t blink. All she could think of were those men. She imagined their bodies turning cold in the pods, the monitors attached to them flatlining. The dead hum of empty air.

Professor Blanchard approached her and, very gently, tipped up her chin.

“I hate to see you suffer,” he said. “When you kill Satow, you’ll be an American hero. Your name etched into the annals of history . . . and you’ve refilled my own well of hope, too. My perfect subject. The world’s most capable mind. It hardly seems fair for you to be so beautiful, too.”

Giselle stared at him in confusion, tears running down her cheeks. And then Professor Blanchard grasped her face and kissed her.

The shock of it made her go still. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, as Professor Blanchard’s mouth worked against her own. A black abyss of terror opened up within her and Giselle tumbled through. All of a sudden she was a little girl again, helpless under her mother’s boyfriend’s hands.

No. The word seared through her like a burst of light. Not again. Never again.

She was not that little girl. She was grown now, and she was a killer. If nothing else, she wasn’t weak anymore. She might be sinful, but she was strong.

Giselle tore away from Professor Blanchard. She struck him across the face so hard that pain echoed through her palm and up her arm.

He stumbled backward, glasses askew. He caught himself against the wall, chest heaving, and then gave a low laugh.