Page 11 of Beneath the Desert Bloom (Of Beasts and Bloom #1)

THE NIGHT HAD cooled off by the time they got back to the house. The moon was a sliver in the sky, letting the stars shine bright. Lauren kicked off her boots at the door, already tugging at her earrings and whining about her bra.

“God, I forgot how good it feels to take this thing off. Free the girls, baby.”

Nora snorted. “You say that every time you wear one.”

“Because it’s always true.”

Nora grabbed a couple beers from the fridge.

The bottles hissed open with satisfying snaps, and the girls flopped onto the couch with the kind of exhausted relief only long days and mild dehydration could summon.

Miso settled immediately onto Lauren’s lap like a spoiled prince, his cloud-white fur puffed into a perfect pom.

Nora tipped her bottle toward him. “He looks like a marshmallow who knows your darkest secrets.”

Lauren grinned and scratched under his chin. “He does. And he’s judging you.”

They clinked their bottles together. The house felt warmer now, full of the slow, soft buzz of cicadas through open windows, the sound of laughter, and the faint scent of desert sage still clinging to Nora’s clothes.

She'd changed into cutoff shorts and a loose tank top over her swimsuit.

Lauren, ever effortlessly cute, had swapped into a gauzy sundress and bare feet, her toenails painted some dreamy lilac that made Nora feel mildly feral.

Lauren leaned back. “So... you gonna tell me what’s up with you and Eli?”

Nora groaned and dropped her head onto the back of the couch. “God, why does everyone always ask that like it's the opening line to a horror movie?”

“Because it is, babe.” Lauren sipped her beer. “You two were inseparable and then—poof. Vanished from each other’s socials. No subtweets. No passive-aggressive memes. Just a digital void. You owe me closure.”

Nora laughed despite herself. “Closure implies there was ever an open ending. We weren’t exactly star-crossed.”

“No,” Lauren said, “but he was hot. In a haunted T.A. sort of way. And rich. And very into you. That trifecta always spells disaster.”

“He was into control,” Nora said, more bitterly than she meant to. “Not me.”

Lauren blinked at her. “Okay, ouch. That sounds... like something you should’ve said six months ago.”

“Yeah, well. I didn’t know how to say it then.”

Silence lapped at the edges of the conversation. Miso gave a tiny sneeze and curled tighter.

“Sorry, I don’t even know why I brought him up,” Lauren said. “You just…” She paused, frowned. “You’re different. Like... lighter. And I guess I was hoping you got there without having to torch a relationship and flee into the desert.”

Nora smiled faintly. “Maybe a little torching was necessary.”

Lauren gave a mock toast. “To healthy pyromania.”

They clinked again, bottles lighter now.

Outside, the wind picked up a little, pushing a refreshing breeze through the open windows.

“Hot tub in ten?” Lauren asked.

“Five,” Nora said, already rising. “I’ll grab the towels.”

* * *

The hot tub hissed as Nora pulled back the cover. Steam coiled into the night air, mingling the scent of creosote and chlorine. She stepped onto the porch with two fresh beers in hand and passed one to Lauren.

They both slid into the water with groans of relief, letting the heat soak into tired muscles.

Nora’s skin prickled, still too aware of itself, like she hadn’t fully come down from…

everything. She leaned her head back and stared at the stars, arms spread over the rim, cold beer in one hand.

They clinked bottles, and the foam spilled over the rims.

Lauren leaned her head back, her long curls already starting to frizz. “This is heaven. Honestly, you could charge rent for this view alone.”

Nora stretched out, arms skimming the water’s edge. “Don’t tempt me. Might be the only way I pay off student loans.”

“ Tell me about it.”

Miso yapped from his perch on the porch steps before curling up in a fuzzy little comma, watching them.

Lauren cleared her throat and pulled a joint from behind her ear like a magician.

“Oh my god,” Nora said, grinning. “Of course you did.”

“Babe, don’t worry. It’s organic. You’ll hallucinate responsibly.”

Nora took it with a raised brow. “You’re a menace.”

“Only in the best ways.”

Lauren lit the joint and took a slow drag, then passed it to Nora. Nora took a long hit, held it, and let it out in a slow, curling cloud.

“Did you ever think about what you’d be doing if you hadn’t gone back to school?” Lauren asked, shifting to face her. “Like… if the world hadn’t just expected us to keep collecting degrees like Pokémon?”

Nora gave a low laugh. “Oh, totally. I’d probably be working in some creepy antique bookstore and pretending it was temporary. Or I’d have opened that apothecary I always joked about.”

“Oh my god,” Lauren said, slapping the water lightly. “You would. You’d be brewing herbal potions and gossiping with ghosts.”

“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.

Then he barked again, sharp and piercing, and launched off the deck, tearing across the yard, yipping and growling like he’d just spotted a demon in the brush.

“Shit—Miso!” Lauren scrambled to her feet, water sloshing violently as she tried to climb out of the tub. She grabbed a towel and bolted barefoot toward the dark. “No no no—Miso, come back!”

But Miso was already charging into the darkness beyond the deck, yipping furiously at something neither of them could see.

Then, a massive shape moved in the trees. Not a coyote, not a human, not anything they could name.

It wasn’t loud, but it was huge. A shadow breaking the line of Joshua trees, too tall, too still, too alien.

Lauren screamed.

Miso barked like his tiny life depended on it.

Nora rose slowly from the water, steam trailing down her skin like smoke. Her heart beat fast, but it wasn’t fear. It was recognition.

She knew that shape.

Her fingers gripped the edge of the hot tub. Water lapped against her bare thighs, cooling now, forgotten.

He was there.

He’d come.

Lauren stumbled back, grabbing Nora’s arm. “Did you see that?! What the fuck was that?!”

Nora opened her mouth. Nothing came out.

The shadow disappeared, like fog, like dream logic. Gone before it had fully formed.

Miso came skittering back, tail down, ears flat, whining.

Lauren scooped him up, breath hitching. “Nope. No. Absolutely not. I’m not staying out here in the fucking open! This is how horror movies start.”

Nora finally looked at her. Really looked.

Lauren’s pupils were blown wide. Her hands were shaking.

And Nora’s skin? Still warm. Still humming.

He hadn’t come to hurt them. He’d come because she was here. Because she’d called him without meaning to. Because he couldn’t stay away.

“Maybe it wasn’t dangerous,” Nora said quietly.

Lauren wheeled on her. “Are you kidding me?! That thing was huge! Like eight feet tall! It was watching us!”

Nora didn’t answer.

Lauren stared at her for a long beat.

“I’m going inside,” she muttered, and turned away.

She hurried across the deck, dripping wet, clutching Miso to her chest like a talisman. “Please, Nora, come on!”

“I’ll just shut the tub and be right in.” Nora got out of the tub and grabbed a towel, drying herself off slowly while staring into the dark.

The night felt alive. She touched her thigh. The mark there still tingled.

“You saw me,” she whispered.

And then, very quietly, almost smiling, “So come back.”

A warm breeze was her response. She smiled, taking in the fresh air as she closed up.

They didn’t go back outside.

Not after that.

Nora came inside and locked both the front and back doors.

Lauren hadn’t said much while Nora changed into her pajamas and handed her a beer from the fridge.

Her expression had been tight, uncertain.

But once they settled on the couch, Miso curled in a tight, twitchy ball between them, some of the tension drained out of her shoulders.

Lauren stared at the beer in her hand for a moment, then glanced over at Nora.

“You’re sure there aren’t like… coyotes that size out here?”

Nora shook her head. “Relax. Just your standard desert wildlife. Possibly bipedal. Possibly shredded.”

Lauren snorted. “Okay, so either it was a hallucination, or I saw the actual Jersey Devil’s desert cousin.”

“I vote for high desert cryptid.”

Lauren laughed, loud and full-bodied, like she’d been holding her breath and finally let it go. “God. Maybe I was just high. Jesus, that would be so embarrassing.”

“You were definitely high.” Nora grinned. “But that doesn’t mean you didn’t see something.”

Lauren raised an eyebrow. “Okay, Vale. What are you implying?”

“I’m just saying,” Nora said, sipping her drink, “we’re in the middle of nowhere, in a haunted house with questionable plumbing, surrounded by things that go bump in the sagebrush. What better place for your brain to start making up stories?”

Lauren opened her mouth, then narrowed her eyes. “Wait. Are you trying to gaslight me?”

“Only a little.”

Lauren shook her head and set her beer down. “You are such an asshole.”

They both laughed. The sound filled the little living room, echoed off the bookshelves and weathered wood.

Miso let out a low grumble but didn’t move.

Nora leaned back and let her gaze drift to the old entertainment shelf. She squinted.

“Wait… is that a VHS copy of The Hills Have Eyes ?”

Lauren twisted around to look, then shrieked. “No way. Shut up.”

“Swear to God.”

“Please tell me you have a working VCR.”

“I mean… maybe?”

Five minutes later, Nora had pulled the clunky player from a bottom shelf and, miraculously, got it to whir to life. She popped the tape in and hit play. The grainy title screen lit up the room in shades of dusty orange and blood red.

Lauren curled up with a blanket and the dog. Nora dimmed the lights.

They both stared at the flickering screen for a few moments in silence.

“Just promise me,” Lauren said, “if any weird dudes start growling in the rocks outside again tonight, you’ll actually listen to me.”

Nora raised her beer. “Girl Scout honor.”

They clinked bottles, and the desert beyond the windows held its breath.