“I assume you have a price,” she said.

“The town of Siegen isn’t far from here.” Liam situated himself on a bag of sheared wool. He was all lean sinew, exuding the confidence of a wild cat waiting for its prey to tire. “Heinrich Himmler’s snapping up historical texts from all over Europe. There’s something I need from his collection—and I need to get it soon, before he realizes what he has.” His mouth scrunched with displeasure. “Unfortunately, the compound’s heavily guarded, so I can’t get into it alone. I need someone to help me slip past the guards and keep watch while I try to find this book.”

An SS outpost. Rebeka’s stomach turned. No wonder her brother had been so willing to hear this boy out. Hundreds, if not thousands, of highly trained death squad soldiers would be stationed there.

“This is nonsense. Daniel, we don’t have time for this. We should continue on—”

“Kreutzer,” Daniel said softly. “Tell her about Kreutzer.”

A chill raced up Rebeka’s neck. A phantom touch, like the kiss of a scalpel’s blade.

Liam clasped his hands in front of him. “Dr. Kreutzer’s written several papers about this book I’m after. Some of them using my research.” His knuckles whitened as he tightened his grip. “Daniel said he was on your list. Of Nazis to kill.”

Daniel’s list, she corrected silently. “He used to torment our neighbors in Łódź. Make them disappear. People said it was experiments, something unnatural.”

There was more to Kreutzer, more she didn’t dare voice. The fiery hate that clung to him, smelling like burning meat. The glimpses she saw of a darkness he craved—whispers in the dead of night. He’d stared at her once in the streets, assessing, weighing. Her heart had pounded with a certainty of what he planned for her. She’d made sure to hide herself away that night, curled up in a friend’s cupboard. But she couldn’t explain it. Not without explaining so much worse.

“Well, if you want him dead, then Siegen’s the place to find him.”

“But that isn’t why you want us to go with you.” Her voice shook as she tried to push back those memories. “You think three of us stand a better chance storming it than one.”

“Even I can only do so much.”

She studied him carefully. He wasn’t dressed richly, but neither did he look like he’d been ravaged by the war and everything that came before it: tweed jacket, navy sweater, comfortable slacks over leather shoes. He’d probably even washed his hair recently.