Hot blood poured over Daniel’s fist as he held the knife in deep. He wondered who this guard was. How long ago he’d decided that blaming Germany’s Jews was the easiest answer to his woes. How many of his own neighbors he’d sold out. How much he’d longed for the structure and control of the Third Reich to relieve his need for thought. He wondered about who might miss him, a mother or a girlfriend. How many children he had who would no longer hear his hateful rants.

Killing him was like snipping a thread on its loom. It might have already been woven in, but at least it wouldn’t taint the weaves to come.

Daniel breathed in. Rode through the guard’s hapless efforts to thrash. Waited for him to go still. Breathed out. The guard’s body was so heavy, slumped against him. Daniel took a step back and slowly lowered him to the bed of the truck. He took in the sad little eyes, the diagonal scar across the man’s mouth. The useless fingers twitching at his side.

A few more pitiful gurgles, then the guard’s eyes turned dull. Daniel pulled the knife free and wiped it and his hands on the corpse’s coat.

Liam let out a low whistle. Shaking, Daniel stood up to face him. His expression was an even mixture of terror and awe, and Daniel felt that warmth again in his gut.

“Ready when you are,” Daniel said.

Rebeka stepped over the corpse with her hand held over her nose and mouth. Her expression was harder to read, which Daniel hated. He knew she didn’t regret what he did—how could she? How could anyone with an ounce of good in them? But her patience with their journey was growing thin. She didn’t understand—each one he killed was only a drop in the sea of blood they were owed.

They moved to a corner of the concrete bay, shielded by rows of supply trucks. “The archives are in the old performance hall,” Rebeka said, after scanning the shipping manifests. She studied a facilities map taped to the wall. “One thing these bastards are good at is meticulous recordkeeping.”

Liam was standing with his jaw clenched and his fists tight, his stare somewhere far away. Deep shadows pulled at his features, more than they should have in the garage bay’s lighting. It was the way he looked when he gathered energy, tapping into that shadow world with the trees that breathed, the ruins that echoed, the behemoth that fed on fear. Liam had called him scary before—but if so, they were two of a kind.

Liam inhaled deeply and opened his eyes, then smiled at Daniel. Tapped his elbow lightly. “Whaddaya say we thin out the SS’s ranks a little more?”

Daniel sheathed his dagger and followed him to the door with a flutter in his heart.