Allen waited backstage as the sound of the USC marching band faded, trying to figure out what to say, trying to decide if he was angry or terrified, or if there was any difference between them where his heart was concerned. Fear could trigger an arrhythmia, if it was extreme enough. Could rage? There was a very real possibility that this would be the day he found out.

He didn't realize he was waiting in the wrong place until the music for the next performer started up, then he breathed the worst words he knew and bolted for the hallway. Nothing. Then he ran in a random direction, almost knocking over a few people, but he knew that his teacher needed only a few seconds to vanish.

It seemed improbable that a man who stood over six feet tall and had waist-length hair of a color rarely seen in nature could simply vanish, but Allen had seen him do it many times before, usually when his creditors started catching up with him. The only thing he would leave behind was his prepaid phone, which rang day and night with angry people and recorded messages, leaving Allen to fend off everyone who showed up in person and to arrange things like food and shelter for himself until the dust settled enough so that Cross could pick him up without risking an angry mob.

Allen had thought that since his teacher didn't have his passport, he was safe. Apparently not, and the fact that Cross was disappearing again didn't reassure him. He didn't know why the man had come back, and why he wasn't staying back. What the hell kind of crazy fuck showed up for one performance in the Holy War completely out of the blue, and then left?

There was only one, and Allen fought whatever crowd he encountered, other dancers, crews, even audience, to find him. A few people tried to call out to him, but he ignored them, criss-crossing the venue as thoroughly as he could.

He left out a back door and leaned against the wall, looking up at the darkening sky. A security guard said something to him in Chinese and he shook his head. He didn't even know how to explain that he didn't speak the language, but he had a badge that identified him as a dancer, so he showed that and the man backed off.

There was no way he was going to find his teacher in the city. Even if he didn't get lost in his own dormitory, the city was too large and his teacher was too good at going to ground.

There was still the car park. He could try that. Even if he got lost in it, all he had to do was get back to the right floor, and anyway he had his phone with him. If he got confused, he could call Lenalee, who wouldn't laugh at him when she rescued him, at least not too loudly.

A few meters in, he smelled cigarette smoke, and he followed it. Was it going to be this easy? That would be nice, although he was still at a loss as to what to say if it was. He set his fingers briefly on Timcampy, his oldest constant companion, for reassurance. He would get through this. He'd gotten through everything else, he would get through this, too.

The smell, however, led to Tyki Mikk, who appeared to be finishing up a bit of private chainsmoking.

Allen nodded.

So did Tyki.

"Excuse me," Allen said. "I don't suppose you've seen Marian Cross?"

Tyki shook his head. "Sorry."

"Sorry to bother you," Allen said. He would check the rest of the car park anyway, but it was probably hopeless.

"Oy," Tyki said.

Allen stopped, waiting.

"Are you really Cross's student?"

"I was," Allen said. Given the sort of reunion they were having, it seemed unlikely that Cross still considered him that.

Tyki dropped what was left of his cigarette and twisted it out with the toe of his shoe. "Can I have a word?"

"Sure," Allen said, but he made no effort to close the distance between them.

"It's about Road."

Allen's instinct was to defend himself, but he held his tongue. If Cross had taught him anything, it was to keep his cards as close to his chest as possible for as long as possible. "Yes?"

"Why did she kiss you?"

"I have no idea," Allen said.

"No? Because you've been messaging back and forth for a bit, haven't you?"

This was awkward. Normal and understandable, but awkward. "It's nothing like that."

"What's it like?" Tyki's posture was relaxed, but his eyes weren't.

Allen chose his words as carefully as he could. "She seems very competitive, not in a nasty way, but in a fun way. I think she just wanted to know who I am, who she's up against, so to speak."

"What did she mean by game on?"

How many of those messages had Tyki seen? Allen wanted to smack Road for being so indiscreet. "Only that she intends to continue kicking my arse into next week." He gave Tyki a self-deprecating smile. "Which she probably will." Not without a fight, but this wasn't the time or place to say so.

"And the birthday present?"

Okay, so Tyki definitely saw their last conversation, and suddenly Allen could feel his heart pounding, a sign he was getting a little too anxious. He took a breath, tried to calm it, but he couldn't figure out how to deescalate this, and his nervous system knew it. "I was a little rattled when Cross took the stage, and she must have guessed. She was trying to calm me down. I'm sure she didn't mean anything by it."

It was the wrong thing to say. Tyki stood upright and moved closer. "She never, ever says things like that unless she means them. Let's get something straight, boy. You are to stop speaking to her, effective immediately."

"All right." Allen was surprised by his own disappointment, but in some ways his rival was his most congenial acquaintance, definitely his most informative one. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize..."

"Didn't realize what, that she has family?" Tyki made the most of his greater size, looming over Allen as he spoke. "I know what the Order's like, boy, so I know you have a secret you want to keep, but whatever it is, it will never be as important as my niece. Understand?"

Allen breathed slowly and carefully, but now he had two problems, an outraged uncle and escalating heart palpitations. He might be able to quiet his heart, but he would have to quiet Tyki, too, and he didn't know how. Road had believed him when he told her he had no secrets, but Tyki wouldn't, and he no longer believed it himself. After all, Road had pointed out two that he hadn't known about. "I understand," he said.

"Why does that feel too easy?" Tyki said softly. "The problem here is that I know more about you than you think." His hand shot out and grabbed the front of Allen's shirt. "Just to be clear," he said, "I will rip your heart out of your chest with my bare hands if you..."

Tyki's voice faded as the throbbing in Allen's skull grew louder and the world around him grew dim. He was getting dizzy, the second warning sign that his heart was too confused to beat properly. If he couldn't get this under control, his heart would stop entirely.

Tyki, probably displeased by his lack of attention, shook him a little before shoving him backward into the wall.

Allen's vision darkened, time itself seemed to lose its hold on him-and then came the impact as Timcampy delivered 40 joules of raw electricity directly into Allen's heart. It knocked the wind out of him, leaving him helpless to catch himself as his knees gave way. He heard Tyki swear, then his head hit the concrete floor hard enough to make him see stars before the world went black entirely.