“Except none of this seems to have anything to do with the world as we currently know it,” Ormi patiently explained. “Instead, all these sacrifices seem to be an attempt to raise one thing.”

The texting slowly came to a pause and the dim-witted Ravens refocused on Ormi.

“Raise what?” Alexandersen asked.

“We’re not sure. But let me ask you . . .” Ormi rested his elbows on the desk and leaned in a bit to look at each and every Raven in the room. “Have any of you been having nightmares . . . ?”

CHAPTER NINE

Erin only got about two hours of sleep, but that was fine because she had a lot of things to get done today.

After a super-quick shower, she glanced at her watch. Then she scooped up her cell phone and made the call. After that was done, she went down the hall to Kera’s room. She knocked once and pushed the door open without waiting for her to answer. Unlike most of the Crows, who hated when Erin did that, Kera just glanced up from tying her sneaker and said¸ “Hey. I know you don’t want to hear it, but I came up with some great ideas yesterday for a regular combat training schedule, which takes into account everyone’s busy lifestyles.”

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Not only did this woman not startle easily, but she was determined to find a way to turn the Crows into her own little Marine unit.

Erin thought about the call she’d just made. She really needed this to work or the other Crows were going to beat the girl to death.

“Wings come out yet?” Erin asked, ignoring Kera’s statement.

“No. Why?”

Erin just frowned a bit, shook her head. “No reason. Nothing to worry about.”

As she expected, Kera stood straight and stared at Erin. “What do you mean, nothing to worry about?”

“Just what I said.”

“If there was nothing to worry about, then why say there’s nothing to worry about? People only say that when there is something to worry about.”

With the trap snapped, Erin merely frowned, shook her head, forced a smile that included wincing, and muttered, “I’m sure it’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it.”

“Don’t worry about what?”

“Just relax!” Erin insisted. “I’m sure your wings will come out . . . eventually.”

“And if they don’t?”

She winced again. “There could be a little infection problem.”

“Infection?”

“Yeah. But we’ll be able to tell before it gets to that point.”

“How?”

“The area gets really red. There will be lumpy spots. Tenderness. Maybe a little pus oozing from—”

“Pus?”

“But don’t worry about that!” Erin said quickly. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. Just keep aneye on it.”

Before Kera could ask her anything else, Erin walked out of the room and closed the door behind her.

By the time she reached the first floor, she could hear tires screeching in front of the house. She glanced at her watch again, impressed by the time he’d made. He must really like her.

A few seconds later, the front door slammed open, and Vig Rundstöm stormed into the house.

“Thank God you’re here,” Erin said. “She’s in her room. I think it’s a panic attack, but—”

“What room?”

Erin pointed up the stairs. “Third floor, down that hallway. Last door on the right.”

He charged up the stairs and Erin yelled after him, “Just go in. She’s not answering the door!”

Satisfied when she heard him moving even faster, Erin headed into the kitchen, where a small group of Crows were eating breakfast, including her strike team.

“What the hell was all that?” Tessa asked.

Erin shrugged and reached for one of the chocolate-glazed donuts from the box on the table. “Just taking care of something.”

Annalisa smirked. “Jesus Christ, what did you do now?”

“Well—” Erin began, but her words were cut off by a short scream, followed by breaking glass. They all focused on the big window by the table that looked out over the yard. Kera’s dog was out there taking a break, but when glass began to fall, the dog moved with some serious speed, dashing out of the way moments before Vig landed hard on the grass, his arms protectively around a topless Kera—her wings out and unfurled.

Tessa let out a sigh, then she and the other Crows looked back at Erin.

Nearly finished with that donut, Erin shrugged. “She needed her wings to come out. I got ’em out.”

“He’s not really moving,” Maeve noted.

“Fuck.” Tessa pushed away from her morning coffee—something that never sat well with her when it happened—and walked out of the kitchen, the rest of the Crows behind her.

And, after licking the chocolate glaze off her fingers, Erin followed.

Kera didn’t know what had happened. One second she was standing in front of the bedroom mirror, her T-shirt tossed on the bed, trying to check her naked back for lumps and pus and whatever else that idiot redhead had warned her about, and the next . . .

Well, he’d just walked in, hadn’t he? And they’d both been shocked. Kera staring at Vig and Vig staring at Kera’s tits. It was like he’d been mesmerized.

The whole thing had surprised her so much that Kera had gasped and tried to cover her breasts with her arms. At the same moment, she’d felt a searing pain in her back, blood flew, and suddenly—she was flying. Backward. And out the bedroom window.