When Ginni wakes up on the beach she can't remember anything except a seething red liquid. "Where am I? Who am I?" The words taste strange in her mouth and the older ladies around her seem only vaguely familiar – like she should know them, but doesn't, and there's a sense of trust she can't explain.
"You are on the beach in East End," the older red head says through her sobs. "Your name is Ginni Beauchamp, and I am your mother, Ingrid."
"And I am your grandmother – Joanna."
"Wendy – your aunt." says the mischievous looking lady.
The younger lady gives a sad laugh as though trying to make light of something awful, "that's great-aunt to her Wendy – I am your aunt Freya, baby girl."
"I – I don't understand." She looks at her hands and her long, red hair. "I don't remember my life."
Ingrid – her mother – pulls her into an embrace. "I am so sorry sweet heart, but you haven't had a life to remember yet – your great-aunt stole your youth for a dark sort of magic."
The teenage girl recoils from Wendy who scoffs - "please! Do I look like I need someone else's youth?" When Ginni just gawks she takes her hands in her manicured ones and goes on, "I don't – this was your other great-aunt, Helena. She's a bitch and a half, but we'll get her back for this – promise." She winks and Ginni decides she likes this family member at least. Looking around at the four women she allows herself a small smile – at least from now on her life seems like it will be a good one. Right?
Helena slams through the door of the old farm house to find Raven shooting at the walls. "What are you doing? If they find us before we are ready we don't stand a chance. Do you want to live in Asgard as queen or not, Raven?"
The other lady takes her finger slowly off the trigger - "sorry." She mumbles swaggering over to her make-shift bed of hay and a jacket. "Did you get it?"
"I did – and I left enough for your immortality to be completed before our return to Asgard."
Suddenly more attentive Raven sits up to face her, "what else are we waiting for?"
"We need their blood when it is boiling."
"I thought that's what you just got!"
"No," Helena snaps impatient with her own anxieties. "Their blood symbolized the child's youth, which I took. We need their blood when they are at their angriest, and I've already started stirring the pot. The key is to ensure they don't catch on and open the portal themselves – if they return to Asgard and discover the prophecy about the girl all is lost."
Raven swings her gun around her finger and latches it to her thigh. Walking over to her partner she raises her eyebrow, "I guess we'd better keep them from catching on then, eh? I'll be back – need more ammunition."
She adds an extra swing to her hips for the older ladies entertainment, and Helena watches her all the way out the door, "hurry back, darling – bring some of that delicious human take-out you found... we're eating in."