The taxi pulled up outside the amphitheatre in Incheon Park, and Jinki directed the driver around to the VIP entrance at the side. The concert was already starting and the last stragglers were going through the main entryways that led under the stands. A few who didn't have tickets were gathering in the parking lot in the hopes to catch a glimpse of some celebrities, but security guards were keeping the public away from the VIP entrance.

"We're supposed to watch from the VIP box with Mr. Jang and the director of SM," Jinki explained. "Loads of big shots are going to be there. Taemin and Jonghyun should be there already. I was supposed to visit you first and get back before it started. They'll be shocked to find I brought you back with me instead!" He gave a short laugh with no humour in it. "Should we go there?"

Kibum shivered at the thought of seeing Mr. Jang again. "I guess so," he said reluctantly. He didn’t really have a plan, he didn’t know enough, but if he saw Mr. Jang, maybe he would get some ideas.

An usher guided them through the private tunnel that led beneath the stands. Kibum could hear the thrumming of the crowd above him like a vibration through his bones. He felt suffocated, like he was buried alive and thousands of feet were stomping on the earth above his grave. When they reached the VIP area, he found some relief. The VIP viewing box was carpeted and sound-proofed, and though his extended senses were still able to detect the crowd noise and the techno-pop that was blaring from the stage as a dance act he didn't recognise performed, the sounds were mercifully muted.

He hadn't been in a VIP box before and usually he would have been interested in his surroundings, but his urgency barely allowed him time to breathe. He took in with a glance the thick, double-glazed glass window that separated them from the noise of the crowd. The box was positioned about halfway up the main stand, above the lighting and sound boxes, and he could see the stage across the heads of the fans seated in the stands below and the ones standing on the flat ground level in front of the stage. Huge TV screens were fixed to each wall of the box, showing close-up views of the performers, but instead of the music from the stage, a subtle, relaxing classical piano piece was being played through the speakers, incongruous with the images of the fast-paced dance act and the flashing lasers. It was like being caught in a bubble. Strange, he thought, that the VIPs milling in the area weren't even watching or listening to the show. Then he took a closer look at the guests and realised that they probably weren't the type to want to listen to techno-pop - or, for that matter, to CheckMate's earwig-music, Minho's rapping, or any of the other acts that formed the frame around the basic story of good-versus-evil being played out on stage. They were rich, mostly older, gowned and suited and tastefully decorated with expensive jewellery, holding glasses of champagne and making polite conversation as if they were in a fancy hotel rather than a concert arena. Kibum realised that they were probably all patrons or investors in the arts, either current, or ones Mr Jang would be trying to persuade to invest in his firm by showing off the success of the artists he backed. The thousands of fans present for the combined acts onstage certainly proved that Jang Enterprises was successful in picking its artists.

Where was Mr. Jang? He must be here somewhere, but he had no essence scent for Kibum to track down. He had to rely on his other senses. He began dodging through the important people, moving towards the windows that overlooked the stage. Jinki followed him, murmuring embarrassed apologies to the clusters of surprised and indignant VIPs Kibum disturbed. But Kibum had detected a waft of rain and roses. Taemin was here somewhere, and his scents spoke of uncertainty and distress.

He followed Taemin’s scents and found him standing alone next to the tall window, turned half-away from the guests as his eyes flickered across the crowd and stage. His fingers tapped nervously against his leg.

"Taemin-ah!" Jinki spoke before Kibum could, making Taemin jump and turn to them with huge eyes. "Where's Jonghyun? You two were supposed to stay together -"

"Hyung!" Taemin's face broke into a smile as he took in Kibum's presence, though the emotion was dampened by the mixture of distress and relief that Kibum sensed in his aura. "You're better now? I'm so glad to see you!" He jumped forward to wrap his arms around Kibum, who immediately screened through his number web, allowing him to return Taemin's embrace. But Taemin was still very upset, and his distress only heightened when Jinki repeated his question about Jonghyun.

"I don't know where Jonghyun-hyung is. He was acting really weird when we got here - you know how he goes all spacey sometimes? But this was worse than usual. It was almost like, I don't know, he was on something?" Taemin looked near tears. "He wouldn't speak to me or even look at me. Then Mr. Jang came and put his arm around Jonghyun's shoulders -"

"What?!"

"I know, it was so weird - and he told me to stay here and led Jonghyun away, and Jonghyun just went with him without saying a single thing. I tried to follow him but the security guards wouldn't let me through. I didn't know what to do."

Kibum felt like he was plummeting down in a high-speed elevator. He had been so focused on Minho that he’d assumed Jessica’s warning had been about him, but now that he thought about it, she had never mentioned Minho's name. What if he was wrong?

Jonghyun fought the sickness, so his soul was not rotting. But alone with Mr. Jang and the presence of the virus in its most powerful form, how could Jonghyun possibly fight it? Fear turned his blood to ice. Not fear for himself. Fear for Jonghyun.

"Where did they go?" he demanded.

Taemin pointed across the room to a plain, unobtrusive door that was made more noticeable by the two security guards standing on either side of it. Kibum strode towards them, heedless of Jinki and Taemin following him, their questions falling on deaf ears. As he approached, he took hold of his power. He knew the guards wouldn’t let him through. But he had ways of making them.

They saw him coming and straightened, ready to deny access. Kibum didn't pause. He forced his essence over theirs, dominant, powerful, twice as hard as he had done over Jessica. Physical size and muscle could do nothing against this.

"Let me through," he said, pushing his intention over them. Their eyes and faces went blank, and as one they mechanically stepped aside. Kibum ducked through the door before they snapped out of it and found himself running down a long, dimly lit concrete corridor that headed towards the stage.

"Kibum!" Echoes behind him told him Jinki and Taemin had slipped through too, but he couldn’t pay attention to them or wait as they tried to catch him up. He was a wolf on the hunt, the scent of danger pulling at his entire being. Nothing could distract him from his prey. Traces of Jonghyun lingered in the air. Vanilla, and something else too, something Kibum had never smelled before but knew it belonged to Jonghyun all the same. It was singed hair, and it meant terror. The fact that Kibum could smell an emotion scent from Jonghyun, who normally used all that energy to contain the sickness within him, told him that Jonghyun was losing control.

He followed the splashes of vanilla and singed hair until the corridor suddenly opened out and he found himself on the ground floor of the arena, where the standing crowd shrieked and stamped and cheered. The dance act had finished and the so-called forces of darkness were taking the stage among clouds of red-lit smoke shot through with lasers. It was for them most of the crowd were cheering. The lead singer of CheckMate, Akma, was wearing black ripped jeans and a t-shirt with slashes torn in the front as if by claws, revealing glimpses of hard muscle beneath. His eyes seemed to glow a demonic red, and Kibum realised he was wearing contacts. Then the music began. Earwig music full of hate and blood and violence.

He cast around for Jonghyun's scent, but it was lost amidst the thousands of others created by the crowd. Frustrated, he looked over t