Page 31 of Beneath the Desert Bloom
“I mean, it’s still on the table,” Nora said. “This whole… desert detour might just be my villain origin story.”
Lauren grinned. “Not villain. Witch, maybe. You’ve got that whole ethereal thing going on now.”
Nora flushed, but not from the heat. “Shut up.”
“No, seriously,” Lauren said. “It’s like you shed your skin and came back… charged. I don’t know. Maybe this place is good for you.”
Nora looked out toward the dark edge of the yard. “Maybe. Or maybe it’s just tricking me into thinking it is.”
“Trick away,” Lauren said, taking another swig of beer. “If it means you’re not obsessing over grant applications or melting down about whether Harkness is going to read your thesis draft.”
Nora smiled. “God, I forgot about Harkness. She probably thinks I died.”
Lauren shrugged. “Let her. You’re a legend now. The girl who vanished into the desert and got hot doing it.”
They both laughed, and Nora felt the tight coil in her chest loosen a little more.
Somewhere in the distance, a coyote howled.
Miso barked in response, short and sharp.
Nora glanced over her shoulder.
The night was quiet. Too quiet.
The kind of quiet that vibrated.
She gripped the beer bottle a little tighter.
They lapsed into a companionable silence, the kind that only happened with old friends and open skies. Nora took another sip of her beer and sank deeper into the bubbles, her muscles humming from the mix of heat and alcohol.
A warm breeze stirred the steam. The Joshua trees beyond the yard stood still, just outlines now, black and strange against the stars.
Lauren reached over to refill her beer from the can she’d left on the step. “Okay,” she said. “Real talk. If you weren’t in the middle of your cryptid girl summer, what would you be doing right now?”
Nora raised an eyebrow. “Uh, crying into a stack of TA essays and stress-eating peanut butter pretzels.”
Lauren nodded solemnly. “A classic academic snack.”
A beat passed. The breeze shifted again, warmer this time, like breath curling around the back of Nora’s neck.
She turned slightly, eyes catching on the far edge of the yard. Nothing moved. But her heart gave a small stutter. She set her beer down.
“Okay, you felt that too,” Lauren said, suddenly sitting up straighter. “What was that?”
Nora didn’t answer right away.
Miso lifted his head. His ears twitched.
The breeze died. The steam hovered, thick and unmoving.
And then, Miso barked. Just once, sharp and uncertain.
He stood, tail stiff, fur rising along his spine. Another growl, low and steady, rumbled from his tiny body as he stared into the darkness beyond the yard.
“What is it, baby?” Lauren asked softly.
Nora’s body went still. The warmth of the water vanished from her awareness. All she could hear was the soft rattle of the wind chimes, the hum of the heater, and Miso’s warning growl.
