New York: Allie's War, Early Years

So I looked like a girl, anyway. Maybe I wasn't in the full, skintight, flesh-on-parade regalia of a lot of the girls there, but I was getting plenty of looks for a change, which boosted my confidence for going to find Jaden.

I really didn't want him to be pissed at me before he went on stage...much less later that night. Still, given his moods lately, I gave myself a 50-50 chance of being able to turn him around in the time I had. The fact that I was pretty drunk could either work in my favor, or go terribly, terribly wrong, depending on what kind of mood I found him in.

Pushing through the crush of bodies to reach the aisle, I didn't let myself think about that last part too much either. I concentrated instead on making it through the crowd around the door to the backstage area.

I'd nearly gotten there, when I was startled to see a face I recognized.

It wasn't Jaden. Or anyone in his band. Or even one of his groupies.

Meeting my gaze, the man with the blond ponytail smiled, bowing with an odd, almost outdated formality. The same drawl I remembered issued from his lips, even when he was nearly shouting to be heard over the band.

"Ms. Taylor," he said.

"How the fuck do you know my name?"

It burst out of me without my willing it.

I couldn't take my eyes off his squarish face, or the long blonde ponytail that still hung down his back. He'd changed his clothes from when I'd last seen him, too. Despite the more casual cut of his jacket and shirt, his outfit still looked expensive to me. I found myself remembering the look on his face while that military prick had been kicking that seer and holding a cattle prod over her mostly bare back.

More than anything, I really couldn't believe he was there...much less that he knew my name. But it was even harder to believe it might be a coincidence.

It looked like he'd made an effort to appear like he fit in with the club's regular clientele. His hair, while still tied back, had been slicked down by product. He wore a long black jacket that I couldn't help thinking might still be armored, leather boots that looked expensive, and a dark gray shirt that also looked designer. I found myself staring at the chain necklace around his neck. On the end of it hung a symbol in silver...three interweaving spirals with a small triangle in the center. The exact same symbol I'd seen drawn on a piece of paper that morning.