Rebeka looked up sharply. The sheep had gone silent. The shadows in the barn thickened, starlight lost behind a sheet of clouds. She stared into the darkened corners of the loft, and the stone tower stared back at her from her thoughts.

And then the shadows moved.

They spilled toward her like ink spreading across the hay. Rebeka stifled a yelp as she scrambled back. They twisted upward, gathering into shapes. Rebeka dug one hand into the hay to fish out her Walther P38—

But then the shadows melted, as quickly as they’d come, leaving behind two men.

Rebeka opened her mouth to scream.

“Shh.” One of them clamped a hand over her mouth until she relaxed. He smelled fetid, cold. “It’s all right. It’s me.”

Rebeka blinked as her mind tried to make sense of what she was seeing, as her eyes focused on her brother and another boy. But they’d appeared out of nothingness, just the thick darkness and silence—

“You’re safe,” she breathed. “Did—did you kill him?” Her heart was fluttering frantically, but she willed herself to calm. Her gaze slid toward the other boy, lean and smug and blond. “Who the hell—”

“Liam Doyle. Pleasure to meet you, miss.” He crouched down and held his hand out to her.

She stared at the hand, then him. “Are you with the Americans?” she asked in English.

His eyebrows furrowed. “I, uh— You could say I represent myself.”

Even smugger than he looked. She whirled back toward Daniel. “What idiotic thing have you done now?”

“Junker’s dead. The rest of his cadre, too.” Daniel looked toward Liam, who nodded confirmation. She didn’t miss how pleased they seemed with themselves. “We’re safe for now.”

Rebeka pinched the bridge of her nose. A headache was roaring to life behind her eyes. “You can’t kill an entire cadre of SS officers and not expect them to come looking for us.”

“Well,” Liam countered, “in fairness, no one knows they’re dead just yet.”

Rebeka glared at him so hard she could swear he started to smoke.

“What? What’d I do?” Liam turned to her brother. “Come on. I thought you both wanted to kill Nazis.”

Rebeka shrank back into the hay. That was Daniel’s quest. Hers was only to try to keep him alive.

“I want them gone,” Rebeka said quietly. “Don’t much care how.”

Liam’s smile had faded. What replaced it was far more chilling: the solemn, predatory stare her brother got when he planned his next kill. Just what Daniel needed—a coconspirator. “Then I think we can help each other.”

Rebeka glanced toward Daniel, but he was busy staring at the toes of his stolen boots, refusing to meet her gaze. He’d already decided for both of them, then. Whoever this boy was, her brother had sided with him and, whether he meant to or not, against her.