“You mean second sweetest, right?” I corrected. I was a little surprised at how quickly she’d taken to him, but then again, perhaps I shouldn’t have been. Her whole life had been thrown into upheaval, between leaving my father and supporting my unorthodox marriage. Here, in Declan, she had a project that she could throw herself into—something far more meaningful and substantial than her cross-stitch and less weird than a dragon or a witch’s cat.

More importantly for us that night, my mother was more than willing to take on the responsibility of Declan’s overnight feedings. Part of this was because she was still on a nocturnal schedule from Court. But she could also tell that the rest of us were exhausted, and being woken every couple of hours probably wasn’t in our best interests if we wanted to be alert and ready for a possible encounter with Alicia tomorrow. After all, her whole point in that twisted scavenger hunt had been to wear Sydney down.

“I hope we find her,” said Sydney as she got into bed that night. “Can you even imagine? This could all be over by this time tomorrow. We find Alicia. We find Jill. Everything goes back to normal—well, whatever passes for normal with us.”

I slid into bed, enjoying the luxury of stretching out after having pulled my last nap in a cramped airplane seat. It was also heady to have Sydney in relative privacy for a change. Clarence’s home was so big that our guest room was isolated in this hallway, unlike the cramped quarters back in Court’s guest housing. Sydney, dressed simply in shorts and a tank top, curled up against me, and I sighed happily. At last, a moment of peace with her.

“Adrian,” she said, “we need to talk about what happened at the commune.”

My hold on her stiffened. “A lot happened.”

“I know, I know, and obviously we’re dealing with the most important part—Declan. But we need to talk about what you did—that healing.”

She blames you! hissed Aunt Tatiana. She blames you for Olive’s death!

“You think I’m responsible for Olive dying?” I demanded.

“What?” said Sydney. “No. No. Of course not. Adrian . . . you don’t blame yourself, do you? A Strigoi did that to her. There was nothing you could have done.”

“Then why are you giving me a hard time about the healing?” I asked.

She exhaled. “I’m worried about the way it wore you out. You said you’d tone down your spirit use. That it was for the best.”

“Actually,” I said, “I don’t know that I ever said that. I think you decided it and have been forcing it on me.”