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“To be honest, I’d never had a vision in my life until about a year ago.”

She blinked. “And they’ve all been about me?”

I flattened my lips and then admitted, “Yes.”

She straightened and lowered her rump to the edge of the desk, so close to where I sat that I could feel her heat searing my skin. Or my heart. Whatever.

“They’re beautiful,” she whispered.

“The subject is beautiful.”

She tore her gaze from the picture in her hand to stare at me. “I don’t understand. I thought you hated me. Sight unseen. Except, you had seen me.”

I shook my head. “I didn’t—don’t—hate you. I…” What was I supposed to say here? “I was afraid to get close to you.”

“Why?”

I dragged my hand through my disheveled hair. I suspected I currently looked like a phoenix who had been caught in a windstorm, given how many times I’d mussed my hair at this point.

“I have this possibly irrational fear that whoever I get close to will end up dying. And since I’ve never met another phoenix before, aside from my parents, of course, that individual would not be able to regenerate, like I can.”

“Oh.” The sound came out of her on a puff of air. “I don’t think that’s irrational.”

I lifted one shoulder, let it drop. “I was dealing with a situation before I moved here to Arrythmia. I had a stalker. This person kept tracking me down and causing me to die so that I would be forced to regenerate.”

“That’s…”

“Annoying, yes. Like, I was always in the middle of something and then boom, dying, ashes, regeneration. It was mostly an inconvenience. Until it wasn’t.”

Cassandra lifted another drawing off my desk. This one was of her, standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling second-story window of an old, dilapidated warehouse.

I recognized that building from my time in New Orleans. Now that I thought about it, a bunch of the drawings depicted her in New Orleans. Queenie had mentioned that she was from the Crescent City, but I’d not given it much consideration until right now.

I’d say it was crazy that our paths never crossed, but New Orleans was a good-sized city.

Cassandra clutched the paper so hard it crinkled like an accordion.

“I was always alone when it happened, so it really was no big deal.” Until the last time, but I didn’t mention that, because she suddenly seemed really tense. If it was worry over me, there was no need.

“No big deal?” Her voice sounded choked. “To die, over and over again?”

I shrugged again. “I’m a phoenix. It’s not like it hurts. But that’s just me. And that’s the problem.”

“What do you mean?”

Guess I was going to tell her about it after all.

“The last time my stalker caught up to me, I was in an apartment building. There were lots of people there. Humans. Who can’t regenerate. And the place caught fire. Everyone made it out,” I added quickly, so she didn’t panic, “but I was, uh, well, traumatized, I guess. The idea that something like that could happen and people would die. I couldn’t take it. So, I took off and ended up here. Where I thought I was safe. Only now you’re here.”

She sucked in a harsh breath.

“And I just keep thinking, if I get close to her, she’ll die.”

She shook her head. “That won’t happen.”

“Yeah, that’s what Asmoday keeps telling me, but⁠—”

“It won’t. Trust me, River. I know it won’t.”