by Marie Sexton
“I suppose that makes sense.” He looked Seth up and down, moving closer. He still looked tired. The bites on his neck were swollen and red. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” Seth smiled, and the scales tipped a bit toward sexy. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Abaddon reached for Seth’s hand, but stopped short. They were in such tight quarters, and in Seth’s personal space too. Everything felt more intimate. “I hated to leave when I did.”
“It’s okay. I was in good hands. Zed knows what to do.”
“How long have you known?”
“That I could heal people? Since the first time the snakes came. I must have been nine or ten.”
“No. I mean, how long have you known that you’re dying?”
“Oh, that.” How could he sound so casual about it? How could he talk so easily about something that filled Abaddon with equal measures of dread and hope? “Since I was eighteen. I think I suspected before that, but that was when I truly understood what it cost me to heal them.”
“And yet, you keep doing it.” Seth didn’t answer except to duck his head, and Abaddon’s grief grew. “That’s why you wanted to leave when you were eighteen? You knew you were running out of time?”
Seth nodded, a short, uncomfortable gesture. “That was part of it, yes. I thought it’d give me a bit longer. But mostly…” He bit his lip, his eyes settling somewhere near Abaddon’s face. “Mostly I just wanted to do more before I died. To see more, you know? I wanted a chance to meet somebody. I wanted…”
He stopped, his cheeks flushing pink. This time, Abaddon took his hand. “You wanted a chance to fall in love.”
Tears brimmed in Seth’s eyes. “Yes.” He ducked his head, but he couldn’t stop the flood of emotion that surged through him. Abaddon’s supernatural senses detected a truckload of embarrassment, but underneath it was an undercurrent of gratefulness that took Abaddon’s breath away. After everything that had happened, Seth felt he’d been granted his greatest wish.
He’d been given a chance to fall in love, after all.
Abaddon steeled closer. His fingers shook as he wiped Seth’s tears away. “You knew I wouldn’t stop looking until I found you.”
“I hoped.” Seth’s smile was sweet and hesitant. “You once told me that my soul is like a beacon to you. Like a lighthouse.”
Abaddon had to force himself to speak around the lump in his throat. “You are my guiding star.”
“I don’t know if it worked, but…” He bit his lip, looking almost flirtatious, except that he’d probably never intentionally flirted with anybody in his life. “I tried to shine extra bright for you.”
Abaddon’s heart clenched, and he pulled Seth into his arms and held him tight. He was overwhelmed as always by the power of Seth’s soul and the brightness of his heart, but for the first time ever, those took a backseat to his own feelings. He barely knew Seth, but he loved him with a fierceness that terrified him. He wanted Seth to live forever, but he also longed for the day he could take him home. Maybe Seth didn’t belong in Hell, but at least they’d be together. At least he’d still be able to touch him, and to see him. Was that so terrible of a thing to want?
Seth fit perfectly against him, his arms around Abaddon’s waist, his face tucked into Abaddon’s neck, his warm breath tickling the sensitive place just below Abaddon’s ear, and even the sudden surge of arousal he felt couldn’t wash away the grief in his heart.
How in the world could he love Seth so much? And after finally realizing it, how could he bear to let him go?
“Abaddon, you’re shaking. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Abaddon lied, turning to kiss Seth’s temple. “I’m fine.” He pulled back a bit so he could look into Seth’s trusting face. Should he tell him now what he planned? He debated, but decided it was better to wait until everything was in place.
Seth shifted against him, suddenly averting his eyes, and Abaddon felt the gentle nudge of flesh as Seth began to grow hard inside his pajama pants. Abaddon had to bite his lip to keep from moaning. He had to brace himself to keep from kissing Seth again and angling him toward the bed, but one glance at Seth’s face stilled him. Seth was blushing furiously, trying to pull away in the narrow confines of the trailer, beyond embarrassed at what was happening. Abaddon took a deep breath and let him go. He let Seth turn away and rest his face against the doorframe.
“Seth…” He wanted to say: “There’s no reason to be embarrassed.” He wanted to say: “It’s natural.” He wanted to say: “I know exactly how you feel. I want you even more than you want me.” But he had a feeling Seth already knew all of those things.
Still, being a virgin as he undoubtedly was, it took Seth a minute to find his voice again.
“I’m sorry.”
“There’s no reason to be.” He touched Seth’s hair, but didn’t allow himself any more contact than that. “You don’t have to apologize to me for anything.”
Seth kept his face averted, but Abaddon heard his soft exhale as he smiled. “Then thank you for not laughing at me.”
No, he couldn’t laugh at him for this, but he regretted having to let him go. He wanted nothing more than to hold him again, but he didn’t want to make things more difficult than they needed to be.
Besides, he was running out of time.
He took Seth’s hand and steered him to the kitchen table. And although it was hard in such tight quarters, he managed to kneel at Seth’s feet, their clasped hands resting on Seth’s knees. “I need to ask you something.”
“Okay.”
“Do you know how much time…?” Jesus, what kind of way was that to begin?
“How long before I die, you mean?”
“Yes.”
“Not exactly. I know it won’t be long now.” Seth’s voice got quieter as he spoke. “A week or two, I think. Why?”
“I have something I need to do. I’ll be gone a few days. I didn’t want you to worry, and I didn’t want—” He stopped, choking on the words.
“You didn’t want to come back and find out I was already gone.” Abaddon winced, but Seth only smiled. “We haven’t had time to do any advertising or anything here. That means we won’t host a revival for several more days at least.”
No revival meant no snakes.
No snakes meant no healing.
And no healing meant a little more time.
“I promise you, I’ll be back. I think it’ll be three or four days at the most.”
“Okay.” Seth pulled one of his hands free and covered Abaddon’s, like the game children played, pulling their hand from the bottom of the stack to place it on top. “I’ll miss you, but I understand.”
“I’ll come back.”
“You’ve already said that, and I have no reason to doubt you. You’ve never lied to me, as far as I know.” He smiled, cocking his head. “Except now that I think about it, you do still owe me ice cream.”
Abaddon laughed, rocking back on his heels. “What flavor?”
Seth’s brow wrinkled in puzzlement. “Any flavor?”
“You name it.”
Seth put one finger on his chin as he thought. “Pistachio. With caramel swirl, and chocolate chips.”
“That’s an absolute travesty. All the flavors in the world, and you pick pistachio? It’s an insult to ice cream everywhere.”
“Are you saying you can’t do it?”
Abaddon laughed at the challenge. “Bowl or cone?”
“Cone.”
“Cake, waffle, or sugar?”
“Sugar.”
“You got it.”
It was easy to pull it from the abyss. A slight bending of the rules maybe, but with all that paperwork in Hell, one little ice cream cone wouldn’t be missed. He placed it in Seth’s hand. Such a simple gesture, but it made his heart ache, and before he coul
d think worse of it, he put his other hand behind Seth’s neck and drew him into a kiss.
A careful kiss, soft and gentle. Just enough to taste Seth’s sweetness, to hear Seth’s breath catch in his throat, to feel the way Seth thrilled at his touch.
If he didn’t leave now, he never would.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“I know.”
He stood, backing up, wanting to put distance between them before he dove into the abyss. But before he could bring himself to leave, Seth spoke.
“Abaddon?”
“Yes?”
“Do you think eating ice cream from Hell is a sin?”
Abaddon laughed. “Not when it’s pistachio.”
* * * * *
DMVs were bad enough for mortals, but after taking the little number from the machine and sitting down to wait their turn, mortals never noticed that certain numbers were never called. Even after all the humans had gone and the doors had been locked, a dozen devils sat slumped in plastic chairs, waiting. When that was done, it was on to the next office, where he stood in line for twenty-two hours before being allowed to plead his case to some upper-crust devil with garlic breath. Four days after handing Seth pistachio ice cream, Abaddon returned to his cubicle in Hell. He couldn’t quite find his desk under the mountain of memos, but he found a note taped to the wall.
Abaddon: It’s done. You are an oozing mole on Satan’s right butt cheek. I hope you get biopsied.
—B
Abaddon breathed a sigh of relief. His legs and back ached. His head was pounding, his eyes dry and burning, but at least it hadn’t been for nothing.
He needed to rest, but he wanted to be sure Seth was safe first. A quick peek at the Rainbow Revival campground showed him it was the dead of night in Georgia. Seth was sound asleep in his bed. His sweet brilliance ebbed and flowed with his even breaths. Abaddon hesitated, feeling like everything in the world would be made right if he could only climb into bed next to Seth and hold him close, but he resisted. He was already exhausted, and if he managed to get into Seth’s bed—something he wouldn’t be able to do without resorting to methods he was no longer willing to use—he sure as hell wouldn’t want to sleep.
He took the subway back to his tenement, swaying on his feet as he hung from the hand strap. He had to lean against the wall as he climbed the stairs to his room. And finally, he fell into the relative comfort of his own bed.
At some point in the not-too-distant future, he’d have Seth here with him in Hell. Sirens blared and roosters crowed. Abaddon listened to the clamor, picturing Seth in some distant tenement. He imagined Seth’s dismay at the never-ending din. His horror at having to trick mortals out of their soul. His sadness when he learned music didn’t exist in Hell.
Abaddon rubbed his hand over his pilled, scratchy sheets and imagined introducing Seth to the true glory of sin in the gloomy stink of his apartment, so far from God that even somebody as devout of Seth was bound to lose his faith.
He imagined Seth without his soul.
It was a long time before Abaddon slept.
Chapter Nine
Sift Like What?
It was just after lunch by the time Abaddon made it back to the Rainbow Revival. Preparations were in full swing. He spotted Seth in the center of camp, surrounded by some of his friends, but he held back, trying to rein in his demonic senses, trying not to focus on the perfection of Seth’s soul.
It was an impossible task. Now that he was attuned to it, he couldn’t ignore it, even if he wanted to.
If he faced Seth now, he’d either kiss him or burst into tears, and neither possibility begged an audience. Instead, he hid in Seth’s empty trailer. He sat at the tiny kitchen table with his head in his hands, staring at Seth’s ratty old bible, almost wishing he could find comfort there.
Anywhere, really.
Finally, the door opened and Seth came in.
“Abaddon?”
Abaddon found it harder than usual to make his throat work. “Yes. I’m here.”
Seth smiled, leaning back against the two-burner stove. “Zed told me you were waiting.”
“Zed?” How in the world had he known? That old man was proving to be more trouble every day.
“You did it, then? Whatever it was you had to do?”
Abaddon stood, wanting to move closer. Wanting more than anything to pull Seth into his arms. “I did.”
Seth ducked his head, scuffing his toe against the tile floor in embarrassment. “I missed you.”
He looked so young at that moment—younger even than his mere twenty-two years—and Abaddon’s self-loathing grew. “I need to tell you something.” And yet, it was so hard to make himself say the words. He reached for Seth, but stopped short. He settled instead for taking Seth’s hands—the right one perfectly soft and supple, the left with heavy calluses on the fingertips from guitar and fiddle strings. “I went back to Hell for a reason. I was looking for a way— Well, I found a way—” He choked, seeing in his mind again the image of Seth stuck in Hell. “Jesus, this shouldn’t be so hard.”
Seth squeezed his fingers. “Tell me.”
Abaddon took a deep breath. “I found a way we can be together.” But his throat was tight. It was hard to make the words come out. “After…”
“After I’m dead?”
Abaddon jerked his head in a nod, realizing too late the gesture was lost on Seth. “Yes.”
“Does it involve me giving you my soul?”
Abaddon couldn’t stand to look in those blind, trusting eyes. “Yes.”
“Could you…could you heal me, in exchange for my soul?”
“I don’t know. If you were human, yes. But since you’re not—”
“What? What do you mean?”
Whether Seth had pulled him closer, or vice versa, Abaddon didn’t know, but what had started out as a foot or two of empty space between them was now mere inches. Abaddon fought to keep his mind focused. “You’re different, Seth. That’s part of why you burn so bright. You’re extraordinary. You’re—”
“What if I just gave you my soul, asking nothing in return? Would you take it?”
Abaddon winced. “I’d have to.” He’d never hated himself so much. “But don’t. Please. It’s not right.”
“Isn’t that what you want? For us to be together?”
“It is.” It was all he could do to keep his tears at bay. “It is, but Seth—”
“It’s okay.” Seth smiled up at him, although it was the saddest smile Abaddon had ever seen. “I won’t do it anyway. I won’t forsake my soul, Abaddon. Not even for you.”
“Good.” Abaddon breathed a sigh of relief, not even bothering to wonder that he felt it at all. This meant he was doomed, but he hardly cared. “That’s as it should be. I want you more than anything, but you don’t belong with me.” He kissed Seth’s forehead, reveling in the sweetness that seemed to pour from Seth’s skin. He let his lips play over Seth’s beautiful, blind eyes. His heart pounded as he moved to Seth’s mouth, kissing him at last, but trying not to push. Trying not to dive too deep, even though he was desperate to do just that. Seth shifted his weight, moving closer, letting their bodies meet in a way that made Abaddon’s entire body thrum with arousal.
“Abaddon?” His voice was barely a whisper, his lips brushing Abaddon’s as he spoke.
“Yes.”
“I’ve been thinking a lot since that last time you were here.”
“And?”
“My soul may belong to God.” He took Abaddon’s hand and guided it to the soft bulge between his legs. “But all the rest of me belongs to you.”
How could something be both so right and so wrong? How could it make him feel so much joy and so much grief? “No.” Abaddon ducked his head into Seth’s hair, moaning as Seth’s flesh began to harden beneath his fingers. “No, yo
u don’t want to do this.”
“I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want this.”
“It’s wrong.”
“I’ve never known the touch of a woman, or of a man.”
“Seth, please—”
“And I think maybe I’d like to.”
“Oh, hell’s bells, don’t tempt me like this. You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”
But Seth’s grip on Abaddon’s hand didn’t ease. His erection warmed Abaddon’s palm, and Seth pushed, guiding Abaddon’s hand into a caress. “I’m dying.”
“I know,” Abaddon choked, trying to stop the slow movement of his hand and failing completely. “But that doesn’t mean you should throw it all away.”
“I’m not.”
“But—”
“I’ve lived righteously for twenty-two years, and I won’t live to see twenty-three. I want…” He took a deep, shaking breath, and when he spoke again, his voice was barely a whisper. “I want to know what it’s like to share myself with somebody I love. And if God is as charitable as I believe, He’ll forgive me that one simple sin.”
“But not with me! Don’t you see how wrong it is? ‘Seth, oh Seth, behold, Satan doth desire to have you. He longs to possess you, to own you, that he may sift you as wheat.’”
Seth laughed. “That’s not quite how it goes.”
“Close enough.”
Seth’s smile was as pure and sweet and gorgeous as the sunrise. “So sift me already, you damned fool.”
And he pulled Abaddon into a kiss.
Some part of his brain wanted to resist, but that small voice was drowned out by everything else. Seth was bright and perfect and pure, the glorious sweetness of his soul filling Abaddon’s senses, making him oblivious to everything but his desire. He moved his hand, just barely, brushing his thumb up the length of Seth’s erection through his jeans. Seth shivered and gasped in response, clinging to him.
“Yes,” he breathed.
And the beast Abaddon had been fighting since that very first night reared up in his heart and in his mind, finally tearing free of its constraints. God help him, but he wanted Seth in a way that was entirely inhuman, and he was tired of fighting it. He kissed Seth harder, growling as his need became more urgent, tugging at his clothes, ripping Seth’s shirt in his urgency as he pushed him toward the bed. He had no thought of reining in that passion. He fumbled with the buttons of his jeans and Seth helped, pushing them impatiently down, over Abaddon’s hips, both of them gasping and rushing, reckless and desperate, until they fell at last naked onto the sheets. Seth’s flesh was cool to the touch, but his essence was hot as the sun, his soul burning like cinnamon candy on Abaddon’s tongue, and he strained, every inch of him taut and trembling with a need he hadn’t felt in all his years as a devil. There was too much—too much longing and too much pent-up hunger—and when Seth’s soft fingers closed around his cock, Abaddon cried out. The brightness flared, blinding him, coursing through him, shooting from his loins in achingly satisfying bursts until he collapsed, panting and shaking. It was so new and alien and unbelievable that it took him a minute to realize what had happened.
