A smolder of anger shone in Dimitri’s eyes. “He never told us his full name. He was always just Randall. We knew he was an American royal who frequently came by on business. We never asked questions. My mother liked him . . . for a while.”

“He mentioned that they stopped getting along,” I noted. “He claimed he wasn’t appreciated.”

That smolder in Dimitri’s eyes turned into a flame. “Wasn’t appreciated? He shoved my mother around when he’d been drinking and didn’t get his way.”

Those words drew even Adrian up short. “Then what happened?” he asked softly.

Dimitri didn’t answer, but Rose did. “Dimitri shoved him back,” she replied.

Silence fell, broken only by Olive shifting on the couch. She’d been listening quietly, her face creased with discomfort. Adrian regarded her with a look I’d come to know by now, one that somehow managed to be both focused and distracted. He was viewing her aura. I’d tried chastising him about aura viewing for a while but had finally given up. It was so second nature to him, he didn’t even realize he was doing it half the time. It really did use only a little spirit, according to Sonya, so I tried to pick my battles over larger expenditures.

“Are you okay?” Adrian asked Olive with concern.

“I don’t feel well,” she said. She slid her hand down her stomach. “Some pain. I’ve had it throughout the whole pregnancy.”

“Your colors are all over the place—different from earlier. It’s almost like looking at two people’s auras blurred together.” Adrian’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you in labor?”

She looked startled at the thought . . . but also afraid. “I . . . I’m not sure. The pain’s worse than usual, but it’s still more than a month before I—”

The deep booming of a large iron bell rang out through the air. Rose and Dimitri were on their feet in an instant. “What’s that?” she demanded.

Dimitri pulled a silver stake from his belt. “Strigoi warning. We have the same system back in Baia.” He ran to the door, Rose close on his heels. Before leaving, he gestured to the fireplace. “Build a fire. If any Strigoi come in, throw them into it.”

He didn’t elaborate on how exactly we were supposed to accomplish that, with brute force or Adrian’s spirit, but they were gone before I could question them. Adrian and I met each other’s gazes, the new threat spurring us to action. With only a small spell, I made the fire in the hearth suddenly double in size. Fire was our best weapon against Strigoi, and while I could summon it out of thin air, having a ready source would aid both Adrian and me.

Olive cried out as the flames rose. I turned to her. Pain contorted her features as she rested a hand on her stomach. “Are you okay?”

“I think . . . I think the baby might be coming after all,” she gasped out.

Adrian blanched. “When you say ‘coming,’ do you mean now or kind of in the near future?”

The question was ridiculous enough to momentarily draw her from her pain. “I don’t know! I’ve never had one before!”

Adrian looked up at me. “So . . . um, you know how to do this, right? Deliver a baby?”

“What?” I asked. Panic seized me now. “Why would you even think that?”

“Because you’re so good at everything else,” he said. “All I know is what I’ve seen in movies. Boil water. Tear up sheets.”

As usual, I clung to logic to try to calm myself. “You could boil water for sterilization. But the sheets? That’s not really—”

A scream from outside interrupted my babbling. Adrian moved his body protectively to shield Olive, and I summoned a fireball to my palm. We all stared wordlessly at the dark window, unable to make out what was happening. We heard shouts and another scream, making my imagination run wild.

“I wish Neil was here,” Olive whispered.

“Me too,” I said, thinking I’d feel a lot better with him standing by the door with a silver stake.

Adrian squeezed Olive’s hand. “You’re going to be fine. Sydney and I will protect you. Nothing’s going to come through that door that we don’t want.”

Just then, the door burst open and Rand Ivashkov appeared, face frantic.

“What’s happening out there?” I demanded.

He slammed the door shut behind him and sank into a chair. “Strigoi. Dimitri told me to come stay here with you guys.” He eyed Olive’s state uneasily. “In case you needed help.”

“Not unless you’ve got a secret medical degree you’ve been hiding from the family,” snapped Adrian.

“How many Strigoi are there?” I asked.

Rand shook his head. “Not sure. Probably only a few or we’d all be dead by now. But a few can do a lot of damage if they get the drop on you.”

Olive made a small cry of pain, and we turned back to her.

“Another contraction,” I noted.

“At least it’s been a few minutes. Maybe he’ll wait until this is all over,” Olive replied.

“He? You know it’s a boy?” Adrian asked.

“Not for sure,” she admitted. “But I just have a hunch.”

“I believe in hunches,” Adrian said seriously.

Another scream sounded, and I tried to provide a distraction for Olive. I might not know everything about labor and delivery, but stress like this couldn’t be good for a pregnant woman. “What are you going to name him?” I asked her.

Adrian followed my lead. “Adrian Sinclair has a nice ring to it,” he said.

Olive’s eyes, full of fear, watched the window and door, but her lips curled into another smile at the joke. “Declan.”

“Nice Irish name,” I said.

“It would work,” Adrian conceded. “Declan Adrian Sinclair.”

“Declan Neil,” she corrected.

I wondered how Neil would feel about having someone else’s child named after him. In the nonstop chaos that had ensued since we’d arrived, there’d been no opportunity to talk to Olive about the circumstances that had driven her here to the commune. And as we continued our anxious vigil, it seemed unlikely we’d discuss matters anytime soon. Conversation dried up as time passed. All we could do was watch and wait. The sounds outside eventually quieted, and I didn’t know whether to be reassured or more alarmed. Equally disconcerting was that Olive’s contractions kept getting more frequent. I wondered if we should be boiling water after all.