But my therapist could never have predicted this.
Staring at the friend I thought had died. The friend I watched go up in a blaze of blue, her body licked clean by the ultra-hot flames. Something none of us had ever seen before—daemon fire. Burning hotter than the ovens they use to cremate bodies. Reaching and slinking, more like a snake than a typical flame. Moving through the forest in a pattern that defied logic.
It came fast, and though I don’t remember much about that night, I do remember looking up and seeing Tara’s silhouette right in the middle of the blaze, her mouth open, her head tipped back.
And after that, Phina and I didn’t talk about her. Valerie was gone. Aurela was swept quickly into her house. Even though graduation was canceled, I’m sure Aurela wouldn’t have been there even if the ceremony had gone on as planned.
I haven’t seen Aurela since that day.
And yet, here’s Tara, fully formed. Looking exactly the same as she did in high school, down to the shape of her hips and the way she holds her body.
Down to the look in her eye, which she levels at me.
“Where in the hells have you been?” she asks, tilting her head at me. “Your clothes got amajorupgrade.”
“Tara,” Phina breathes, her surprise quickly turning to loud confusion. “Where in the hells haveyoubeen? We thought youdied! Wesawyou die that night on the ridge.”
“Always so dramatic,” Tara laughs, throwing her head back and waving her arm at Phina. “It’s not that big of a deal, Sera. You’re always blowing things out of proportion.”
Phina steals her gaze and says through a terse jaw, “I go by Phina now, Tara.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Tara groans, like a teenager whose mother is telling her to do her chores. Her eyes roam over us, lingering on each, until she gets to me and realizes it’s just the three of us here. She pouts. “Where is Aurela? You guys didn’t bring her to the party?”
“Whatparty?” Valerie asks, bringing her hands to her hair. “Where did you even come from?”
“Tara.” I step forward, drawing her attention toward me. It feels like we’re talking to a person standing on a ledge, the anticipation crackling in the air. Something inside me says that Tara is capable of a lot more than we ever thought. “Do you have something to do with the fires?”
She blinks at me, her brow wrinkling as she tilts her head playfully. “Are you being dense, Maeve? That’s not like you. You were always the smartest of us.”
“How am I being dense?”
“Starting that fire wasalwaysour plan,” Tara says, rolling her eyes and throwing her head back like she’s had to explain this a million times. “It’s what you guys wanted! To get the prom canceled. To make everyone in town hurt for what they did to you.”
“No,” Valerie snaps, shaking her head and stepping forward, pointing at our old friend. “No—weneveragreed to that. Do you know how many peoplediedthat night, Tara? Shifters from our pack. Tourists.Babies.”
Valerie’s voice cracks on the last word, and I know she’s thinking of her baby at home. How a fire could roll through the town right now, and with the strength of the daemon energy in it, we’d never survive.
“Obviously, I didn’t want to kill babies.” Tara rolls her eyes again, and I want to snap at her to stop. That urge makes me feel like my mother. “But you guys seemed pretty on board with it, up until it actually started happening.”
“We never wanted to start a fire,” Phina says.
“Really?” Tara asks, spinning on her, pointing at Phina now. “What happened toburning the place down, Sera?”
When Tara says it, those words come out in Phina’s voice, but higher and softer, the way Phina’s voice sounded back in high school. It’s jarring to hear her like that, and when Tara smirks, it’s like she knows she’s getting under our skin.
Phina doesn’t bother correcting her, just grits her teeth. “You know I didn’t mean that.”
“I don’t knowshit,” Tara spits, scowling at us. “All I know is that the four of youleftme up here.”
“We thought you were dead!” Val calls, throwing her hands up.
I add, “You were in the middle of the fire, and I couldn’t even…I couldn’t even find yourbones, Tara.”
Tara makes a pouty face. “Aw, Maeve-y, you looked for my bones.” “This doesn’t feel real,” Phina whispers, and I agree with her. Being here with Tara, hearing her use our names from high school. Watching her stalk around like she used to, commanding the space. “This feels like a nightmare.”
There’s always been something about Tara. The way she tugs at you, like she has her own gravitational pull. Similar to the bond I have with Felix, but less severe. Most gentle and pulling, like the ocean slowly but surely washing you out to sea.
“Why are you still acting like a teenager?” I ask slowly, eying the woman—girlstanding in front of me. “Why do you look exactly like you did before?”
