Helga was the only one who could get near Damon.
The other nurses refused to come within arm's reach of the nursery. They spoke of him in whispers at the far end of the corridor, where the fluorescent lights buzzed and flickered. They said his stare was unnatural-that nothing about him was natural, with his dead eyes and those reflexes, already too quick for a newborn. Helga had seen one of them drop a thermometer near his crib. Before it hit the mattress, his hand had twitched toward it. Not quite a grab. Just a tracking. A promise.
She didn't see it. Or perhaps she had seen too much already.
The Council had come for them in the night. Klaus was eight, Marta six, Liesl barely two. Her husband Claven and all three children bore the Elemental gene, but Helga did not. The Council hunted E
