Chapter 7

New York City, 2007

In the depths of her dreams, Elizabeth had envisioned him many times. Each time she thought about him, his eyes would grow a little dimmer, his hair a little darker until he was just a shadow of the man she'd known. She still missed Richard, but with each day his memory slowly faded until it was a dull ache within her chest. She'd lost that part of herself long ago and had resigned herself to the fact that she would never get it back. How could she explain to herself then why this man was here? Fate? Did she even believe in fate any longer? She was so confused by the thoughts swirling in her brain that she almost missed the sound of his voice when he spoke.

"Miss? Is something wrong?" The man asked, concern heavy in his voice.

She shook her head to clear her senses. "No." Her soft response was one that had the hairs on his neck standing on end. She watched as he shivered, the same reaction her body was having as every nerve seemed to come alive at the same time.

This man, the one who was fidgeting from foot to foot as she stared at him, was like him in every way. That hair, those eyes, the tone of his voice, it was all the same. She was staring at him with her jaw open, gaping at the vision which she swore she'd never see again. You're being a fool, she silently berated herself. The man's brow furrowed in a frown for a moment before pulling something from his pocket.

"I'm Detective Kerry O'Donnell. I'm here to speak with the owner of this club." He spoke in his smooth voice, the accent wrong to her ears as he flashed her his badge. Boston, her mind placed quickly, as that voice washed over her frazzled nerves.

"Is he expecting you?" She asked after she found her voice once more, still feeling dazed. Her voice sounded thin and reedy to her own ears and she cleared her throat nervously as she found to control herself.

"I called last week and made an appointment. It's urgent that I speak with him."

"Give me a moment." She said as she ducked back inside the club. Jumping from the counter as the window swung close with a loud clang, Elizabeth hurried around the bar to open the door. She let out a surprised shriek when she connected with a box of supplies, sending herself crashing across the floor in her haste. Cursing under her breath she peeled herself from the floor, scowling at the rip that was now in her favorite pair of jeans.

"Such an ugly scowl is not becoming on you, princess." Lothie's voice was like a wall of cold water rushing over her and Elizabeth turned to him suddenly, her lower lip caught between her teeth as she worried about what to tell him.

"There's someone here for you." She said finally, watching as a dark eyebrow quirked upward and a scowl settled over his pale face. "A detective." The change in Lothie's features sent a thrill of fear through her and she suddenly felt her heart ache for the man standing on the other side of the door.

"I've been expecting him," Lothie's voice was as smooth as the whisky that lined the shelves but she could hear the underlying threat that was there. He'd kill this man if he needed just as he had before to keep their secret safe.

"Lothie, please don't hurt him," Elizabeth begged as he moved past her to let their guest inside.

Black eyes turned towards her as he rested his hand on the door, a strange look on his face at her request. A simple why left his lips, noting the way that her gaze kept darting between him and the door.

"That man out there is my Richard."

Lothie was startled by her admission, pulling his grip from the knob to turn and stare at her fully. He knew it was always a possibility that Richard Hudson might cross paths with Elizabeth but he held on to the hope that it would be a one in a billion chance. If the man on the other side of that door really was who Elizabeth claimed he was, Lothie knew he had to treat the matter with extreme care.

"Elizabeth, don't give into your foolish dreaming that he's anything like the person that you once knew." He saw the hurt written clearly on her face but he had no choice. It was best to break her heart now rather than have it broken later when a nosey detective was disposed of.

"You harm him and I'll d ... do something drastic." She stammered, trying to make herself seem so much more imposing then she felt. She narrowed her eyes at him, her hand resting on her slim hips as she frowned.

Lothie laughed at her then, shaking his head. "What, pray tell, do you think you can do to change my mind, princess?" Her silence made him chuckle and he reached out to stroke her cheek. "Be a good girl and stay with Gabriella until he's gone." He didn't move from his spot until Elizabeth backed away, the scowl on her face growing deeper as she hurried up the stairs to the second level.

His face turned stony as he glanced at the aged wood of the door, wincing slightly as he heard a door upstairs open and then slam shut with the force of a woman scorned. If a human was here to ask questions about who they were and the people they catered to, it was his duty to take care of the problem. A deep breath steeled his nerve as he unlocked and opened the door.

"Good evening, Detective. Please come inside." He flashed his smooth grin at the man on the other side, watching as he nodded and stepped into the dark interior.

Kerry glanced around the inside of the building, surprised with how nice it was compared to the exterior. It was warm and comforting, decorated in the plushest materials in stark blacks and reds. That was New York for you though, a layer of grime could always covered the brightest gem. "Nice place. You own it?"

"Of course. I've been here since the early 90s. We cater to a specific clientele with very demanding tastes." Lothie didn't even stop to invite the man to follow him, simply brushing past towards the office on the first floor.

The office was cramped, barely enough room for the desk piled with paperwork that was crammed in. He watched as Lothie settled himself into the plush leather chair on the opposite side before nodding towards the extra chair in the room. It wasn't exactly comfortable with his knees sticking half in the hallway, but he'd been in worse positions before.

"Mr. Moray, I know we spoke briefly on the phone the other day, but it seems three people are missing and the last place that anyone can remember seeing them is here. Now, is there anything you can tell me about that? Any video tapes from security cameras or staff on duty that might have seen something our of the ordinary?"

"Detective ... O'Donnell, correct? Detective, you'll find that this club's patrons expect a certain amount of privacy. We've never installed cameras."

The smug bastard actually grinned as he said that. Kerry wrinkled his brow and clenched his teeth. Something weird was definitely going on here, he thought silently to himself as that itch in the back of his mind screamed for satisfaction. He knew the details of this case inside and out and each of the victims' family and friends had pointed out that this was a place that they frequented. It was the only tie that held them all together and without cooperation from the establishment the case would go up in smoke.

"You can see where we're very concerned, Mr. Moray. One missing person isn't the greatest priority in a city of this size but three from the same location? It's getting to be more then just simple coincidence."

"I can assure you, detective, that we take security very seriously here. I can ask the rest of my staff if they've seen anything unusual but I fear you're simply looking at a dead end here."

"The rest of your staff meaning the woman I saw earlier?" He made a mental note to inquire more about the blonde who had spoke to him just moments before. Perhaps she'd be more willing to discuss the matter at hand.

"I'm afraid that Elizabeth will tell you much of the same, Detective. Privacy is extremely important to us." Lothie placed an emphasis on extremely, his face a blank mask as he refused to give the man any slack.

"Well, I'm sorry to ruin your little game here, but I'm pretty sure the NYPD won't take "privacy is important" as a good enough answer. My job is to ask questions and I'm not going to stop until I find out what's happened to these missing people. I think you know, Moray, and I have half a mind to take you out to my partner and let him drive you down to the station to see if a little time in an interrogation room won't loosen you up."

Lothie liked a man that spoke his mind, but this man in front of him was beginning to grate on his nerves. He now knew that the man hadn't come alone, so even if he were to rip his throat out, someone would notice him missing. This put a small bump in his plans.

"Well, detective, let's make sure that it doesn't come to that." He sat back in his chair, a small grin coming to his face as the man looked at him in confusion. Lothie could sidestep the questions all day long but it wouldn't stop the inevitable from happening. Now he just had to think of a way to break it all to Elizabeth.

"He treats me like a child." Elizabeth pouted as Gabriella ran the brush through her long hair, her fingers soothing against the girl's scalp.

"Well, when you act like one what do you expect, Elizabeth?" The older woman asked her ward, smiling as Elizabeth sighed and the pout fell from her face. "We've always been honest with you, dear, and this is no exception. If Lothie has cause for concern then he'll have to deal with it in the way that he sees fit."

"There's no need to kill man for simply doing his job."

Gabriella chuckled as she placed the silver brush aside and started to braid Elizabeth's hair. It seemed to soothe them both, the monotonous action of tucking and weaving would always take their minds off their troubles. "This wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that you swear he looks like Richard, would it?"

"Lothie said I shouldn't get my hopes up. Hell, my hopes were dashed 600 years ago. I simply think it's a shame."

It was an odd feeling, but Elizabeth actually found she couldn't express her hurt to Gabriella. The woman had been a mother to her all of those years, protecting and soothing her when her moods grew too dark. This hurt, all those years of unrequited love, simply wouldn't be soothed.

A faint sound caught her hearing and her eyes grew wide as she heard the turning of a doorknob downstairs. "He's leaving." She gasped, pulling away from the dressing table before Gabriella had finished her braids and bounding towards the door.

"Elizabeth, it's not wise to go down there." She called after the child. The girl would be the death of them one day, she was sure of it. She had done her best to curb her impulsiveness but when Elizabeth had something in her mind she was bound and determined to do it.

Elizabeth flew down the stairs with all the grace of a gorilla, pulling herself to a stop as she watched Lothie and the detective shake hands before Lothie opened the door and let the man outside. She could tell by the way he frowned that the meeting had not gone well. The door closed behind the detective and Elizabeth felt the air sucked from her lungs. She wanted to follow him so badly, that pull clouding her brain as she looked at Lothie, wondering what was going through his mind as he scowled at the detective's retreating figure.

"Lothie..." She began only to be cut off a moment later by a sharp glance from him. He wasn't pleased and Elizabeth couldn't help by wonder if he'd spared the man's life for the moment because of her. She felt Gabriella come up behind her, the gentle pressure of her hand calming as it was placed on her shoulder.

"Not a word about it, princess." Lothie stared at her with the hardest of looks, knowing that he'd placed them all in danger by not disposing of the man right then and there. "This stays between us, understood? We don't need them stepping in." They all knew who he spoke of. Xander had been quiet for nearly a century now, leaving them be as they settled in a new continent, but his threat was always there in he shadows. He glanced between Gabriella and Elizabeth, noting as they both nodded silently. "Mark my words if he asks questions again, I will take action."

Elizabeth said nothing as Lothie turned and stalked away, followed moments later by Gabriella. No doubt Gabriella would be soothing the savage Lothie all night long while Elizabeth ran the bar downstairs, but it was a small penance to pay for the favor he'd bestowed upon her. She would have to make the most of it, she told herself, as she continued to prepare for the night ahead. She had to try and make this man understand without revealing too much of the awful truth.

Kerry O'Donnell rubbed at his aching neck as he made his way back through the alley, bumping into a group of Goth kids no doubt on their way to the club he'd just left. He remembered a time when he was like them, searching out trouble and fun on a weekend evening. That was until he got his job and those times were only distant memories. All his job got him now was a wicked caffeine habit, an ex-wife, and body that would probably fail him before he turned 40.

New York City was too busy for his liking, even if it wasn't much different from Boston. His head pounded constantly from the noise and he found himself growing more and more claustrophobic as the years went by. Exiting the alley he made his way towards the patrol car, slipping inside and glancing over at his partner. Greg Edwards was a no nonsense kind of man with a beer gut and graying charcoal colored hair. He couldn't count how many times he'd been forced to listen to Greg's plans for retirement, one that always seemed to be forced back another year by some sort of bureaucratic bullshit.

"He tell you anything?"

"No. Mr. Moray seems to be a man of few words. I get the feeling that this is all going to turn out to be a dead end." Kerry said, reaching for the cup of coffee he'd left on the dash, wrinkling his nose when he found it to be a cold, unappealing mess. Dumping it out the window, he let the cup fall to the ground with a faint clatter.

"I fucking swear to God that if they think we're going to chase our asses on this one I'll quit. This is the fourth time we've been through this. You'd think they'd have it figure out by now, but no, those God damned..."

He tuned out his partner's prattling speech and leaned his head back against the headrest, closing his eyes for a moment. That woman filled his vision. She was a blonde, beautiful, and perfect. Not that he was a great judge of women or anything but he knew what he liked. He'd married Delia as soon as he'd turned 18 and it didn't take him long to figure out that a marriage was a lot more than just sex. His young bride had been patient and understanding with him but the whole thing turned sour when they both learned that neither was mature enough to handle it. It took ten long years of intense, angry fights before she'd finally pulled the plug and walked out. Kerry hadn't spoken to her in years, but he knew she still lived in Boston and cashed his alimony checks on a regular basis.

Frankly, the woman he'd just seen was the woman of his dreams, one that he'd seen on more than one occasion. The dreams had started shortly after he met Delia and he always thought that perhaps it was coincidence. His over active hormones creating a mystery woman out of nothing. Delia had a fleeting resemblance to the woman in his mind but he'd grown more and more certain that they weren't the same.

The woman in his dreams laughed along with him, not bitterly scowled. She would smile at him instead of hurling insults with an acid laced tongue. Perhaps the biggest difference between that woman with the deep blue eyes and his monster of an ex was the fact that she always told him that she loved him just before he woke at dawn. Delia, even in the best of moods, had never once uttered those words to him.

"Who else lives there besides him? Anyone we can talk to?"

Kerry's eyes snapped open at his partner's question and rubbed the back of his hand across his aching brow. "Moray and his wife, Gabriella. There's also a girl. Elizabeth. Moray insisted they'd all be pretty tightlipped."

Greg sniffed his displeasure and reached out to start the car. "I'll run them in the system and see what we can get."

Kerry made no response. He already knew what they would get from their search. He just hoped that they wouldn't end up with too many questions.

Elizabeth would see him out of the corner of her eye as she made her way down the street on the rare night off. She knew the detective was watching them closely, wanting to explain to his superiors about the mysterious disappearances that were taking place connected to the club. The real truth, however, was more difficult to swallow.