I shook my head. “I can’t tell you. Not yet. But believe me when I say this baby’s life may depend on what we do now. Will you help us?”

That was a hard argument for them to go against—and it wasn’t a lie either. Because as we walked back toward the heart of the commune, my power gradually began creeping back. And each time I tuned into Declan’s aura—looking closely, almost at the cellular level—I could see that infusion of spirit. It’s unlikely anyone would notice it unless they were really looking for it.

And I understood with a shocking clarity why Olive had been afraid. Why she’d turned her back on everyone she knew and run off to a hole in the woods. What had happened, what I was holding in my arms, shouldn’t exist. Two dhampirs couldn’t make another dhampir. It went against one of the most basic rules of biology in our world. It was impossible, yet here it was.

He was a miracle.

But Olive had been right that there were people who’d want to study Declan, who’d want to possibly lock him up and experiment. And while I was ready to acknowledge that his birth was a wondrous, joyous thing, I wasn’t ready to let his life be a series of experiments and finger-pointing—especially when his mother had died to protect him from that.

Dimitri spoke to Lana privately, and either because of that dhampir tradition or his own reputation (maybe both), she acceded to all our requests. She gave us a vacant cabin to stay in until dawn. When we asked for supplies, she sent them via Rose or Dimitri so that Declan would have as little exposure to others in the commune as possible. I needed him to be out of their minds. I needed them to forget him.

Of course, that meant Sydney and I were in charge of his care that night. And in a few short hours, I learned more than I’d ever expected to about babies. She was able to look up some information on her phone, taking comfort in logic and facts. The signal out here was bad, though, and sometimes we found it was easier to take a guess on something than wait for an answer. Declan, fortunately, was a forgiving guy and proved pretty accommodating as we figured things out together. He was patient as Sydney and I painstakingly read the instructions on the can of formula Lana sent. He made little complaint when I initially put his diaper on backward. When he grew tired again and started crying, I had no instructions to follow. Sydney gave a helpless shrug when I looked at her. So I just walked him around the living room, crooning classic rock songs until he dozed off and could be set down.