Chapter Thirteen
Elliot’s phone rang while he was in the shower, interrupting the mental spiral he was in the middle of. He wasn’t quick enough to grab it before it went to voicemail. He cut his shower short and toweled off. Most people knew better than to call him, so it must be important.
His damp hands fumbled to play the voicemail on the touchscreen until finally he heard his grandmama’s recorded voice.
“Hi, Elliot,” she said. Her voice was strained. “Can you come over this morning? I’m not feeling well.”
The wet phone almost slipped out of his hands as he scrambled to pull on Damon’s underwear and his shorts. He sprinted into the bedroom, shirtless, hair still dripping. “I have to go.” Bobbing around the room, he searched for his car keys. He was usually more organized than this.
“What’s wrong?” Damon asked. Elliot didn’t have time to revel in the way Damon’s eyes lingered on his half-naked body.
“Grandmama called.” Elliot yanked on one of Damon’s t-shirts as he continued, “She’s not feeling well.”
Damon’s eyes widened. He swiped Elliot’s keys off his desk and handed them to him. “She said she wasn’t feeling well?”
Elliot ran a hand through his wet hair. It’d look like crap if it dried pressed to his headrest in the car, but he didn’t care. Grandmama was never sick. Never.
If she was calling Elliot for help, something was really wrong.
“I’ll come with you,” Damon said. His phone rang as Elliot started to protest.
Damon pressed the phone between his cheek and shoulder, answering as he pulled on socks.
“Hello?” He froze, second sock midway in the air. “Yeah, Chels. I didn’t forget about picking up the flowers.” Damon scrunched up his face. “Of course, I didn’t forget that the flower shop closes at noon. In fact, I was getting ready to go get them now.”
Elliot huffed a laugh as Damon ran a hand down his face. He hung up with Chelsea and turned to Elliot. “I’ll pick up your flowers too. Text me if you need anything? If you need me to come over or—”
Elliot swallowed hard. “It’s fine. I’m sure it’s fine.”
He wasn’t convincing himself or Damon, but Elliot forced a smile, and they both raced out of the house, driving in opposite directions.
Elliot practiced the deep breathing exercises Grandmama taught him to help center his mind, but he kept coming back to the same question. What had happened that Grandmama couldn’t heal herself?
The twenty-minute car ride felt interminable. As soon as he pulled up to the house, he dashed out of the car and didn’t bother knocking.
“Grandmama? I’m here,” he shouted as he slipped his shoes off in the entry.
She didn’t answer back. Elliot’s heart started pounding, the thump-thump heavy in his ears.
The prickle of his magic itched under his skin, adrenaline and fear igniting his nervous system responses. His core warmed, and tingles cascaded down his arms, energy trying to escape.
“Grandmama?” he called again as he went down the hall to her bedroom. He knocked on the door once before pushing it open.
She was sitting on the bed, wincing. “Can you open this?” Her hands shook as Elliot reached for the aspirin.
She looked okay enough. Was dressed and sitting up. Slightly pale, but the lighting in the bedroom was dark.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, undoing the safety features on the cap and giving the medicine back.
She shook her head, grabbing the bottle, but her fingers slipped and sent little pills flying everywhere.
Grandmama gasped and clutched her chest.
“What’s happening?” Elliot demanded.
“Heart,” she croaked.
“I’m calling an ambulance.”
“No. Don’t,” she gritted out. “Magic.”
She wanted him to use his magic?
“I can’t,” he said. “You know I can’t. Damon isn’t here. I’ll call an ambulance. I’ll—”
“No. Magic is doing this. No hospital.”
The little white pills on the ground. Aspirin. Wasn’t aspirin for a heart attack? She’d overworked her powers. A build-up of congealed magic was clotting her veins.
He couldn’t call a hospital. There was nothing they could do for a magical heart attack.
The only way to dissolve the clots was with Elliot’s powers.
Nausea curled sour and thick in his stomach, but he helped Grandmama to lie down on the bed. She grabbed his wrists, tried to open her mouth to say something, but instead squeezed her eyes shut and whimpered.
The sound hit Elliot in the gut. His grandmama was never hurt, never in pain. She was invincible. She was a superhero.
Except, she wasn’t. She was human.
And she was dying.
Elliot forced himself to ignore the panic locking up his muscles and closed his eyes, hovering his hands over her chest. He took a few centering breaths and tried to focus on moving the energetic prickles from his core, through his arms, to his hands, and into Grandmama’s heart.
His palms tingled, but the magic swirling through him wouldn’t get the hell out.
“Please, please,” he murmured under his breath, mind whirling as he tried to think up a spell.
Clear her blood, remove the mud.
Nothing happened.
Strengthen my focus, clear Grandmama of this toxic hocus pocus.
Stupid. Stupid. He was stupid. He couldn’t get his stupid magic to cooperate.
His powers ricocheted violently inside his body, an angry storm of high winds and pelting rain and rumbling thunder. The chaotic levels of his magic raged, threatening to send him into a panic attack unless he released the energy.
His heart rate was too high. He needed to be calm, clear.
He mumbled his heart rate decreasing spell to no avail.
He tried to bring Damon to mind. Tried to feel into the peace and safety and…love he felt when he was with him. Of desire and need.
Tears fell down his face.
He couldn’t do it.
With clumsy haste, he pulled out his cell phone, calling Damon.
He picked up on the first ring. “I’m already on my way. What’s wrong?”
Elliot inhaled a ragged breath. He didn’t know how Damon knew he needed him. It could have simply been Damon knew his grandmama was never sick, or it could be that even though he wasn’t a witch, he could tap into whatever weird connection they had too.
“I need you,” Elliot said, crying into the phone. “She’s having a heart attack. A magical one. I can’t go to the hospital. I have to use my magic, but I can’t. I need you. My magic doesn’t work without you.”
“Okay. Okay,” Damon said. The click-clack of the turn signal echoed through the phone, increasing Elliot’s frantic heart. “I’m on my way, but it’s going to be at least twenty minutes.”
“It’ll be too late.”
Grandmama’s breathing was already shallow.
“Damon,” Elliot pleaded. “She’s dying. I can’t—” He couldn’t inhale. His chest ached. “I’m not good enough to—” His magic burned, a wild thrashing inside of him, making him shake.
“Elliot, listen to me,” Damon said. “Listen. Are you listening? Take a deep breath with me, okay? Ready?” He sucked in a breath and blew it out slow. Elliot followed his cues. “Put me on speakerphone. We’re going to do this together. You’re going to do this.”
“I can’t.”
“You can, Elliot,” Damon said, his voice strong and sure. “You’re going to do this. You don’t need me. I know you can do this.”
Elliot took another breath and put the phone down. His hands trembled. The magic ripped at his bones, tore through his tensed muscles, desperate to get out.
“You don’t need me for your magic to work, Elliot. You just think you do. I watched you heal all those animals. I watched the magic fill you. It wanted to work for you. It wanted to listen to you.”
Elliot held his hands in front of his torso, palms facing each other. He imagined the magic listening to him like Damon said. That the energy was working for him.
“You were beautiful,” Damon continued. “Every single time you healed me. It was like watching the sun rise inside of you. I’ve never seen you so full of life as you are when you’re healing, Elliot.
I might have been extra careless lately just because I wanted an excuse for you to heal me.
Your magic inside me makes me feel like I can fly.
Like there’s nothing so right in the entire world. ”
Elliot breathed in Damon’s words, pictured himself the way Damon saw him. The magic rising and cresting. His palms lit up, white light bouncing between them.
“It’s working, Damon,” he said. He took his time, focusing the magic over Grandmama’s heart, using his energy to strain her blood, to massage out the clumps of gloopy magic.
“Of course it is. You’re amazing. I knew you could do it.”
“Don’t hang up,” Elliot said.
“I won’t,” Damon said. “I promise.”
Time passed in funny intervals. Elliot slipped into a flow state as his magic generated and released in easy bursts. He used the techniques his grandmama taught him to direct the magic into doing exactly what he needed.
He felt Damon arrive before he heard the front door open. He didn’t call out to him. He knew Damon sensed exactly where he was.
Damon stood behind him, and Elliot sighed out a huge breath as he put his arms down. His body swayed, almost unconsciously magnetized toward Damon, wanting to be fully in his orbit.
Grandmama stirred. Her eyes opened. Elliot grabbed her hand, and she squeezed back. His magic sensed her pulse, felt the aliveness of her aura. The health of her powers.
Relieved tears sprang to his eyes.
“I knew you could do it,” Damon said. He put his hand on Elliot’s arm and pressed his chest into Elliot’s back.
Elliot turned, and not letting go of his grandmama’s hand, he buried his head into Damon’s neck and hugged him.
Damon rubbed his back, murmuring soft nothings until he settled.