Damned If You Do by Marie Sexton

carefully around his neck. Then Jeremy took Seth’s arm and began leading him toward the exit at the back of the tent.
    Now that Abaddon had quit struggling and the “phenomenon” had ended, the revivalists released him. Zed caught the direction of Abaddon’s gaze and sighed.
    â€œI’ll give you a minute with him, but you are not to enter his living space, Brother Abaddon. I still do not trust you, and I urge you not to overstay your welcome.”
    Abaddon was almost as stunned by Zed’s sudden acquiescence as he had been by the snakes. “I won’t. Thank you.”
    Abaddon ducked through the crowd and hurried for the exit.Seth and Jeremy were halfway across the clearing to Seth’s trailer when Abaddon caught up with them. Seth was paler than usual, his eyes drawn and tired. After what he’d seen, it was all Abaddon could do to not grab him and pull him into his arms, but with Jeremy there, it seemed like a bad idea. He settled for taking Seth’s hand, feeling that surge of power that always came with skin-to-skin contact. “Are you all right?”
    Seth only smiled, although it never reached his eyes. It was Jeremy who spoke.
    â€œPeace and love to you, brother. You must be Abaddon. We haven’t actually met, but I’ve been hearing a lot about you.”
    Abaddon had to let go of Seth to shake Jeremy’s hand. His was another bright, pure soul—one that might have tempted Abaddon greatly not so very long ago—but he paled next Seth.
    Every star in the universe paled next to Seth.
    â€œCan I talk to you for a minute?”
    Seth’s soft smile seemed a little more genuine this time. “Of course.”
    But Jeremy shook his head. “It’d be better to let him rest. The snakes always tire him—”
    â€œI’ll be fine, Jeremy. Abaddon will see me the rest of the way home.”
    Abaddon had to wonder what Zed had told Jeremy, because the boy seemed reluctant to leave them alone, but he grudgingly deferred to Seth’s wishes, and Abaddon finally had Seth to himself.
    â€œThey all treat me like a recalcitrant child. As if my blindness is somehow my way of rebelling against them.”
    â€œI think they’re only concerned for your welfare.”
    Seth laughed. “Funny how you’re the one who gives them the benefit of the doubt.” He gestured behind him, toward his trailer. “Do you want to come in, or—”
    â€œNo. I promised Zed I wouldn’t.” He might have thumbed his nose at Zed’s rules in the past, but he felt compelled to follow them now. “Can we just walk?”
    â€œCertainly.”
    Abaddon led him past the trailers, into the trees, into the deep darkness of the trees. There was no moon. Very little light reached them, but between Seth’s blindness and Abaddon’s unnatural vision, neither of them needed it, and it would help hide them from the eyes of curious revivalists. Seth followed easily, whether based on the sound of Abaddon’s steps or something else entirely, Abaddon didn’t know.
    Abaddon clenched and unclenched his fists. His shoulders were so tight his head was beginning to ache. He wasn’t sure what he felt—anger, or grief, or just confusion. The urge to take Seth and run as far away as possible was almost tangible. The revival no longer felt safe.
    â€œYou’re troubled,” Seth said at last.
    Troubled. It seemed like such a tiny, silly word compared to the chaos he’d felt as he’d watched the serpents climb up Seth’s pale, slender arms.
    â€œWhat were you thinking?” Abaddon asked, turning to face him. “You could have been bitten.”
    Seth shrugged, as if it were inconsequential. “I could have, yes. But I wasn’t.”
    â€œYou could have died!”
    A darkness passed over Seth’s face. He touched the scarf around his neck. “Probably not.”
    Suspicion bloomed in