Liam opened his palm, and darkness unraveled like a ball of yarn from his hand, like he was a magician serving up a dangerous trick. Whispers surrounded her with gale force; a sickly violet light splashed over them all.

Rebeka’s heart thumped, painfully sharp. It made no sense, what she was seeing—but neither did her visions. Why should this boy who twisted shadows to his will be any less real?

The hunger in her shifted. Sharpened.

“I saw him use it,” Daniel said, his words rounded with wonder. “It shredded an entire cadre of SS officers like they were nothing. Rebeka, just imagine.”

Just imagine.

Her brother wanted a way to kill with ever more cruelty and power, and this pretty idiot had appeared out of nowhere, offering him a terrible gift. And as the whispers slithered around her, she knew—the way she’d known in Berlin, the way she’d known in Łódź—it would be the death of them both.

But she’d have been lying if she said she didn’t want it, too. As the whispers grew, she leaned into them and let her armor slide away. Why fight it? She didn’t just want to kill Nazis—Kreutzer, Gerstein, Himmler, and more—she wanted to make them suffer. She wanted revenge, even if not with the same blind fervor that Daniel did. Yes, the whispers reminded her—she wanted to see this through.

And she wanted to see Daniel smile. She wanted him to believe there was more for them than this. If this gave him hope, if this let him find an end to his dark road—

The shadows dissipated. In the creases of Liam’s palms, she glimpsed a smear of blood she was sure hadn’t been there before. A promise of greater power—or a curse to damn them all.

“All right.” Rebeka swallowed. “I’m in.”

CHAPTER FOUR

PHILLIP

Phillip Jones had never considered himself impulsive, exactly, but at times he could be both very dumb and very brave. Not that this insight into his character did him much good as he was barreling to the earth at ninety meters a second. Don’t pull the cord until you absolutely have to, the pilot had said, after he cut the engine and dipped them into a slow, silent glide through the ink of night. Don’t wanna give Fritz a chance to aim.

Small comfort as the dark forest reached up to claim him.