“Erin is right,” a sister suddenly cut in. “When my car flew off that bridge after being hit by that drunk driver, I remember thinking, ‘I wish I could fly away from here. Really fast.’ Now I can fly really fast and really far,” she bragged.

“You can fly? That’s impressive.”

“Like, last week, I went to Paris for a day . . . then flew back the following night. None of the other Crows can fly that fast. You won’t be able to fly that fast.”

The new girl stared at the Crows for a moment before asking, “I can fly?”

“We can all fly and, even cooler sometimes, we all have talons.” She held up her hand. “We can call them up whenever we need to.”

“Are you going to show her your talons?” Erin finally asked.

“I just got my nails done. I don’t want to ruin the color. Anyway, where do you think we got the name Crows from?”

“That’s not the only reason we got the name Crows,” Erin reminded them.

“How else did you get the name?”

But before Erin could explain, she placed her hand on the new girl’s arm and shoved her over a step—two seconds later a box of baklava flew by her head.

The new girl nodded. “Thank you.”

“Welcome.”

“I don’t understand what’s really happening,” Kera finally admitted to the redhead.

“You’re receiving California-style entertainment for free. Usually you have to watch reality TV for this kind of thing.”

“Why do they hate each other?”

“Because they used to love each other and have sex. Now they loathe each other with the burning fire of a thousand suns.” The redhead grinned. “Let me tell you, the one thing Los Angeles does well, besides movies and plastic surgery . . . divorce.”

Kera stared at the woman. “Who are you?”

“Erin Amsel. Originally from Staten Island. But I got killed here, so . . . there you go.”

“You could have just given your name, but . . . okay. My name’s Kera. Kera Watson.” She touched the back of her neck. It was sore. “Why is my neck burning?”

“Because you’re now branded with the sign of Skuld. Her rune.” The redhead turned, lifted her hair off the back of her neck. “It’s called the Naudhiz rune.”

It resembled a five-inch, pitch-black slightly askew cross. It wasn’t ugly, but Kera hadn’t known she’d be branded. She wasn’t really comfortable with that at all, but it was a little late to start complaining, wasn’t it?

“After a while,” she said, turning back around, “you won’t even notice it’s there. It’ll be a part of you, like your tats.”

Kera didn’t know how true that was, but shedidn’t debate the point. Instead, she watched the couple continue to argue.

“None of the other Clans trusts the Crows as it is!” the male screamed. “I’m trying to help you!”

“How many . . . groups are there?” Kera asked.

“Clans. They’re called Clans. And there are nine official Clans.”

“Official Clans?”

“Clans that are considered valid by the gods. We have automatic entry into Valhalla upon death and are expected to fight during Ragnarok. Although even before the Crows were one of The Nine, we had automatic entry into Valhalla. Skuld promised us that and she never breaks her promises to us.”

“She sounds . . . nice.”

The redhead grinned. “She ain’t that nice. And she don’t promise shit often. Remember that so you won’t get your feelings hurt.”

A very handsome man walked over to them, hands in his front jean pockets, shoulders hunched a bit like he was uncomfortable with his lofty height.

“Hey, Erin.”

“Hey, Rolf.” She pointed at Kera. “Rolf, this is the new girl.”

“Hey, new girl.”

“I have a name.”

Handsome Rolf nodded at that before focusing back on Erin. “So I heard you had some visitors.”

“Freakin’ Killers.” The redhead’s eyes narrowed. “What do you know, Rolf Landvik?”

“Word is Frieda lured the Crows out of the house with Skuld’s ring because she believes the Crows stole some knife or other from the Killers. They’re being real dramatic about it. I heard they even went to The Silent about it.”

Erin rolled her eyes, but Kera had no idea why. That sounded like a rather large concern for all involved.

“Why does everyone think we take their stupid crap?” Erin asked. “We have enough of our own stupid crap.”

“Because you’re Crows and your namesakes steal.”

“So do Ravens.”

“But we look more majestic when we do it. Y’all just look like thieves.” He glanced at Kera, then asked Amsel, “Do you guys have equipment for the new girl?”

“Again . . . I have a name. Three, actually. First, middle, and last.”

“We need new blades for her. The last set we gave to Ginny, I think.”

“If you want, I can take the new girl to see Rundstöm. He can set her up with whatever she needs.”

Amsel leaned back, eyes narrowing. “Why?”

“Just trying to be helpful. I mean, Ravens . . . Crows. It’s like we’re brothers and sisters.”

Amsel glanced over at the two leaders. They were still screaming while a small group was keeping them physically apart.