I didn’t see the crow anymore. It didn’t appear in my dreams, and it didn’t lead me to mysterious places around America. I jumped whenever I heard an ordinary crow croak or take off. I tried to follow one after school, once, but I lost it after half a minute.

Christmas was strange. It was usually Fiona who prepared dinner and decorated. This year, Amelia and I rummaged through some of the boxes in the attic and found the few decorations Killian owned. A small plastic Christmas tree with a dozen miscellaneous ornaments went in a corner in the living room, and red and green garlands framed a few windows. We also hung lights wherever we could.

Charon was invited, but Cassandra came by to tell us that he wanted to spend the holiday with his family. I would’ve bought it if he hadn’t continued avoiding us after we came back to California.

So, it was just me, Killian, Amelia and Dennis. Dennis had attempted to make a turkey, but judging by the sharp burnt stench on both him and Amelia, it hadn’t worked. We just ordered Chinese takeout instead. And honestly, I didn’t really mind takeout on Christmas; it wouldn’t have felt like a real Christmas without Fiona’s dinner anyway.

After dinner, Amelia and I excused ourselves and sneaked out the back. We hopped over a couple of fences and made our way to the Demetrias’ back garden. Amelia said a quick spell, and the vines climbing up the wall twisted into a strong ladder. We climbed up to Charon’s room.

Charon had headphones on when we crawled in. He was completely engrossed in a book. He didn’t notice us until I tripped and fell on the floor, which startled him greatly.

“What the fuck?” he gasped and ripped his headphones off.

“Did you really think we’d spend Christmas without you?” Amelia asked. She sat on the bed next to Charon. He made room so I could sit as well.

“Some people want to spend holidays with just their families,” Charon grumbled. He set the book and headphones down on his nightstand.

I looked around dramatically. “Can sirens turn invisible? Because I don’t see them here,” I said.

“Funny,” Charon said and rolled his eyes. “I just don’t think you should be around me, okay?”

“Sirens eat humans, not witches or birds,” Amelia pointed out.

“I’m not a bird,” I said.

“You’re half-bird, at least,” Amelia said. She turned back to Charon. “My point is, you don’t have to worry about that stuff with us. We don’t judge or anything, and you’re not a danger to us.”

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“Yeah, well, it’s fucking gross. I don’t want you guys to see when I’m sucking on some poor donator’s blood,” Charon said. He cringed at himself.

“We’ll look away,” I promised.

“You—“

“Listen, we’ve been through hell together. You becoming a fully fledged siren isn’t gonna change that. We’re your best friends, whether you like it or not,” I said sternly.

Charon sighed. He leaned back, softly hitting his head on the wall behind him. “I guess I could have it worse,” he said.

“That’s right! We’re mediocre,” Amelia said in a celebratory voice.

“Average at best!” I agreed.

“Fuck off,” Charon laughed.

We spent a good two hours just talking about boring stuff like school and music and Christmas gifts. None of us mentioned magic or the consumption of human flesh or blood. At some point, Marina brought us Melomakarona — cookies made of honey, oil, nuts and orange. She also had hot chocolates for Amelia and I, and a cup of something else for Charon.

That’s when the curiosity beat me. “So… how exactly does it work? Being full siren and all that?” I asked.

“Well… if you’re raised like Cassandra and I were raised, just on raw meat and blood of animals, you don’t really develop that need for human flesh,” Charon started. He looked a bit uncomfortable, but he kept going. “All it takes is one taste. After that, you need it to survive.”

“How much do you need?” Amelia asked.

“Not a lot, if I mix it with nor— human food. My mom applied for rations, so that’ll be enough to keep me going. We just have to do a lot of paperwork every month and stuff,” Charon explained.

“Shit. That sucks,” I said.

“It’s better than hunting and getting caught,” Charon said with a shudder.

“Yeah, please don’t do that,” Amelia said.

“What exactly are the rations?” I asked.

“Two pints of blood and a pound of flesh per month. We have to put most of it in the freezer so it lasts,” Charon said. He didn’t look at either of us in the eye.

“Is that enough?” Amelia asked worriedly.

“It should be,” Charon answered. I wasn’t very convinced. He had become much skinnier since the fight on top of Tribune Tower.

“Is there no way you can go back to being a vegetarian?” I asked.

“I don’t think so,” Charon said. “Can we talk about something else now?”

“Yeah, of course. I’m sorry,” I said quickly.

Shortly after, Amelia and I took our leave. Amelia and Dennis still needed a ride home since they had no car, and I was getting tired. We hugged Charon goodbye and made him promise to meet us at Twin Peaks the next week.

At home, we had dessert — pre-mixed brownies — and exchanged presents. I got a brand new Nokia from Uncle Killian. “For the next time you go on a rescue mission,” he said with a wink.

When I finally retired to my room I was tired, content and full of food. I was ready to go straight to bed, but there was something in the way. A box clumsily wrapped in happy Christmas-themed paper, and a green card on top with my name on it. I frowned. We had exchanged all our presents downstairs — why was there one here?

I sat on my bed with the box on my lap and unwrapped it carefully. The box was a simple shoe box, probably five years old at least. I took the lid off and threw it into the pile of wrapping paper.

Inside the box was a brand new Kiss shirt promoting a world tour. On the back was listed European tour dates, all within the past two months, starting from the UK and ending in Germany. The smell of menthol cigarettes clung to it. Underneath the shirt were two CDs — Green Day’s Insomniac and The Cure’s Wild Mood Swings.

The last thing in the box was a note in a familiar handwriting. It only said: Happy Christmas, crow.