5p Liz's eyes wandered up to Jennifer Jennings' window, seeing her before the embarrassed teen pulled back from her vantage point. Liz offered the girl's now empty window a small smile before entering the apartment building, almost looking forward to meeting her new neighbors.
p * /p
p
It was nearly ten before Liz reached her destination: the local hot spot, the Dusk to Dawn. Not only was it Heather Smith's part time job before her abduction, it was the only place the teens deemed "hip", and so naturally the place was crowded. Loud music blared from the inside, and Liz decided that it was a good thing that the club was on the outskirts of town. It took her ten minutes to get to the head of the line; she paid her five-dollar cover, and entered the club. p The Dusk to Dawn was unusual in its décor, a touch of Gothic, but more contemporary. That didn't mean it wasn't dark, almost gloomy, because it was. Shadows danced around the dance floor with the patrons to fast alternative rock and the members of the band onstage were very pale, Liz noticed with a grin.
/p p She turned her attention back to what she came for, and scanned the crowd. Finding the floor manager was easier than she expected; in the crowd of teens, the tall, leggy blonde stood out.
/p p "Excuse me?" Liz said, tapping the manager on the shoulder.
/p p The tall blonde turned to face her. "Yes?" she asked, a melodious lilt to her voice.
/p p "Where's your boss?" Liz asked, her tone curt.
/p p "I'm the manager," the blonde said.
/p p "Where's the owner?"
/p p The blonde looked the petite girl over quickly. "He's in his office," she replied, apparently thinking her harmless. "I'll show you-"
/p p Liz cut her off before she could finish. "I'll find it."
/p p Liz turned to go, but before she could the blonde caught her arm. "Do I… Have we met? You look so familiar."
/p p She forced a smile, wide and very fake, "I just have one of those faces." Liz pulled her arm away then, with surprising strength, and walked away at a fast pace. But she heard the blonde's sharp reply: "No, you really don't."
/p p Finding the owner's office was the easiest thing Liz had accomplished that day; the large room was at the very end of the only hallway in the club. The door was slightly ajar; no sound came from inside, but Liz knew he was in there before she pushed the door open a bit more and saw him.
/p p Marcus Constantine hadn't changed in the years she hadn't seen him. His hair was the same short cut, covering his head with a thick black helmet. The eyes studying the sheath of papers before him were a piercing, but breathtaking, light blue. His skin was very pale, more so than her own, and flawless. His long, denim clad legs were on up on his desk in a careless position.
/p p Liz almost smiled at the sight before her. She'd never imagined her long-time lover in jeans.
/p p She knocked lightly on the doorjamb. Marcus didn't look up from his paperwork; instead he called for her to enter. "Taxes. My accountant says they're inevitable, like death. What does he know?" Marcus smiled slightly and shook his head. "What can I…" he stopped as he looked up and his eyes registered on the girl's face; his pen- and his jaw- dropped. "Lyccette?"
/p p Liz grimaced. "It's actually Elizabeth now. Call me Liz."
/p p He swallowed, tried to get his mouth to work; to think up something a little more clever than 'How are you?' A moment passed in silence; his mind was completely blank. "What are you doing here?" he eventually blurted out.
/p p "I heard you were," she shrugged slightly, walking toward him.
/p p "Oh, don't tell me you've come to kiss and make up," he retorted sarcastically, getting up from his chair almost warily.
/p p "Sorry to disappoint you, but no," she said, running her hand down his cool cheek. She leaned in, brushed her lips against his, and whispered into his ear, "Where are they?"
/p p He pulled away instantly, and backed away from her until his back was pressed against his desk. "Who?"
/p p "You know who I mean! The girls!" she almost shouted. Liz strode to his side, and picked up the newspaper lying on the desk. She shoved it in front of his face, and he looked down at the front page. The headline read 'Mysterious Disappearances of Local Girls'.
/p p "I've already read it," he murmured.
/p p "Yeah. You read it," she snapped, tossing the newspaper away. "Marcus, where are they?"
/p p A sardonic grin spread across his face; his eyes glinted with playful cynicism. "And what makes you so sure that I'm to be accredited with being the… kidnaper? Murderer? Tell me, Liz, which am I?"
/p p She felt her resolve weaken when he flashed that dazzling smile, but it didn't break her. "You're a monster," she replied, her voice quivering.
/p p The smile disappeared; the eyes closed on pain. "Get out."
/p p "Marcus-"
/p p His eyes opened, narrowed; when he spoke, the voice was venomous. "You will never find them, Lyccette. Get out- out of my club, out of my town; go home, wherever home is. And do it now."
/p p It may have been years since she had seen him, but she knew the tone. But in the years she'd known him, that anger had never been directed to her. Head held high, eyes on his, she backed out of the room. Behind her Marcus slumped into his desk chair, and picked up the phone. "Luanna, tell Charles to get in here." /p