The Darkest Hour(64)

“Betray my country? My friends?”

“I didn’t have much of a choice.” Her cheeks heat. “Are you satisfied, or do you wish to keep chatting?”

“The latter. Why didn’t Dr. Nacht give you the serum?”

“I’m not American or British, and those are the countries that the Nazis want to infiltrate with double agents.”

“Because you already are one.”

Her mouth shrivels. “Make your choice. Stay here if you want. Dr. Nacht has plenty more of that serum set aside for you. But if you want a chance at escape, then you’ll need to come with a traitor like myself.”

I measure what she has told me against the doubt lodged in my heart. If this is one of Dr. Nacht’s little schemes, he’ll be sure to punish me for listening to Sabine. More syringes, more serum, more straps to hold me down—but all of that will be coming for me anyway if I stay. Dr. Nacht will stop at nothing until I become his obedient pet. I may not like putting my life in Sabine’s hands, but I see no other way out.

The decision made, I undo the restraints that choke my ankles and rub the feeling back into them. “I’ll go, but we can’t leave without Tilly.”

Sabine doesn’t even blink. “Follow me. I know where she’s being held.”





We tie up Nurse Keser’s hands with one of my leather straps and drag her body beneath my cot. When we’re finished gagging her, Sabine takes hold of another one of my straps and points it at my wrists.

“I’ll need to bind your hands,” she says.

“Why?” It comes out harshly. I’m finally free from those restraints. There’s no way I want to feel one next to my skin again.

“We have to keep up appearances in case one of the scientists or soldiers stops us in the hallway. I’ll tell them I’m taking you to see Dr. Nacht.”

I glance at the door. “How many of them will be out there?”

“Not many. It’s a little past nine in the evening. Most of the staff has gone to bed, and the soldiers should soon change shifts. If someone bothers us, though, I’ll take care of it.”

“The Nazis let you roam around the laboratory that freely?” Could they be that stupid?

“Not freely, but Dr. Nacht has granted me a couple liberties.”

“For turning in Tilly and me?”

Her face sours, but she nods. Despite my reluctance, she proceeds to wrap my wrists, and I let her for Tilly’s sake. “There’s something you should know.”

“I’m not in the mood for your advice.”

“It isn’t that.” Now her face looks like she has tasted curdled milk. “Matilda … Matilda will be different when you see her.”

“Different how?”

“She has responded well to the serum.”

“Dr. Nacht told me that.”

“Yes, but—” She thrusts her hands against her sides and shakes her head. “There isn’t time to explain, but she’ll need a good dose of the antidote. Likely two or more.” Before I can ask what she means by that, she opens the door. “Follow my lead and say nothing.”

We enter the hallway, and Sabine transforms in mere seconds. She lifts her chin and sheds any trace of apprehension, dragging me behind her as if I’m not worth the dirt underneath her fingernails. Sabine yanks at my elbow to keep up with her, but the scent of the ammonia-wiped floors makes me queasy. It also doesn’t help that traces of Dr. Nacht’s serum remain lodged in the crevices of my mind, blurring my vision and causing me to sway. I may need another dose of that antidote sooner rather than later.

“Deep breaths,” Sabine whispers to me. I do as she says, and my senses begin to rouse. My eyes adjust to the bare bulbs hanging over my head, and my ears tune in to the hushed sounds of the laboratory—the smack of footsteps, the hum of a fan, and, from somewhere far off, a woman wailing. Could it be Tilly?

Soldiers march through the sterile hallway, a black pistol on each hip. As we pass one of them, I can see the sharp questions ready to jump out of him, but Sabine is quick to quell them.

“I’m on Dr. Nacht’s orders,” she tells him in halting German. He frowns a little but lets us go.

Sabine stops in front of a door that appears no different from the dozens we’ve passed. She shoves it open without knocking. Once we’re inside, I see that the room looks identical to mine. There’s a cabinet in one corner stocked full of syringes, and there’s a cot pushed up against the far wall. Tilly lies on top of it, and I don’t think my heart has ever jumped so high.

Tilly sits up at our entrance, perplexed. “Where’s Dr. Nacht?”

“Tilly—” I start, but Sabine holds me back.

“I do the talking,” she says, quietly undoing the strap on my wrists.

I’m not sure if I like her giving orders, but with the serum chewing at the edges of my mind I decide not to protest. Deep breaths. The best thing I can do for Tilly is to regain as much of myself as I can get.

Tilly, however, looks much better for the wear. Her hair is brushed and her skin is a healthy pink. This is the Tilly that I’ve gotten to know at headquarters—but it’s clear that she doesn’t recognize me. She plants her feet on the floor tiles, and I notice that her arms and legs haven’t been strapped to her cot.