“That you’re in love with him?”
“I’m not inlovewith him!” Elliot said. “It’s just a little crush.”
Grandmama hummed.
“But no. I’m not telling him that. I’m going to tell him I’m a witch. I can’t keep secrets from him anymore.” Damon deserved to know whose fault it was his dad was gone. Elliot shouldn’t have kept it a secret for as long as he had.
“Seems a little contradictory,” she said, and Elliot grimaced. “But you do what feels right.”
“I’m a witch,” Elliot said. “I healed your broken arm in the first grade, and I healed the other like forty-five minutes ago.”
Damon just blinked. His long black eyelashes fanned his face. Even all disheveled and in a hospital gown, Damon was gorgeous. Elliot was entranced by the strong cut of his jaw and his plump lips with the little dip in the middle.
Elliot shook himself out of ogling his best friend and continued, “I healed us after the car crash. Accidentally. I don’t really have control over my powers. I’m not good at them. I tried”—he hiccupped, tears blurring his vision again—“I tried to heal your dad, but it didn’t work. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for not telling you. For not being better. For not saving him.”
Elliot sniffed and wiped his eyes, searching Damon’s face for any clue that he believed him, or if Damon was about to punch him in the face.
But Damon kept blinking.
Maybe Elliot broke him.
Damon finally took a long inhale and sighed it out. His fingers intertwined with Elliot’s. “The police report said Dad was dead on impact. No one could have saved him.”
“No, no. I could have—I should have been able to—”
Damon squeezed his hand. “You may be a healing witch, Elliot, but you aren’t a god. Unless you’re about to tell me that you can do necromancy too?”
Elliot’s jaw quivered. The disbelief over his casual acceptance was staggering. That he couldjokeabout this.
Damon smiled, his eyes narrowing, and then he was nodding his head. “You know…this explainssomuch.”
It was Elliot’s turn to blink dumbly.
“So can you heal concussions too?” Damon asked. “Because my head hurts like a bitch.”
Chapter Eight
Things between Elliot and Damon went back to normal.
Well, mostly normal.
Elliot was acting normal. Damon, however, was trying very hard to hide how weird he was acting, which only made him weirder.
On the bright side, Damon was pretty sure Elliot attributed his awkward behavior to Elliot’s admission of being a witch…and not therealreason.
Part of Damon had suspected that Elliot did something to fix his arm after he’d jumped off the swing in first grade, but as Damon got older, he figured he’d misremembered how much pain he’d been in.
Elliot having healing powers just made sense. It explained his ability to always know how Damon was feeling and why his touch made everything better. Damon wasn’t freaked out about it. He’d always known that Elliot was special.
No, that wasn’t the revelation that was making Damon act weird.
“My mom wants to take us to get our suit rentals,” Damon said, elbowing Elliot so he missed when he shot at Damon’s team as they played Wizard Combat Zone 2.
“Okay,” Elliot said, elbowing him back. “When?”
“I don’t know. Next weekend?” Damon shoved his shoulder into Elliot’s.
“Sure.” He retaliated by kicking Damon’s shin and killing his entire squad.
