This place wasn't home. Everything felt strange and foreign to him as he sat in the dingy hotel room in the heart of Rome. He had pulled one of the small chairs up near the rooms only window so that he could look out at the bright day. Sun was shining, birds were singing, and he was in the grips of a long winded spree. In his hand he clutched a bottle whose content had left his lips tasting of sweet liquor and the slightly sour tang of vomit from where his body had expelled some of his excesses from the night before. As he brought the bottle to his lips and tipped his head back he realized that it was empty.

Lowering the bottle he tipped it from side to side and watched as the ferment at the bottom slipped around. He had started several days ago with a bottle of vodka. Moved on to bourbon, and what he had just finished was the last of the grappa, and coincidentally the last of his pay check. Solomon had been in this flea bag motel for almost a week without going into work. Mr. Goldman had given him time off, and he was hoping that he hadn't burned any bridges with the man. Dropping the bottle to the floor he heard it clatter as it rolled over the cheap threadbare carpet until it smacked against one of the walls.

It had all started at the apartment he and Lylianna had lived in. He had come home from work one day and everyone had simply been gone. Disappeared. At first he thought maybe Lyl and her guard had gone to the park, or an art exhibit, but then he went into her bedroom and saw that her things had been removed. In that moment he was unable to comprehend the intense pain that shook him from the inside out. No letter, no phone call, just a lonely hollow silence. For the first day or two he stayed there, wanting to be there in case she returned. After that though he couldn't stomach it anymore.

Solomon had gone to the closest motel in his price range and taken a room. That was where he waited with his cell phone plugged into the wall. Waiting for any word of what had happened. A faint beard had grown in on his chin, and he looked like he'd been worked ove. Skin a healthy shade of green, with dark circles underneath his eyes from the lack of sleep. Something inside him, something that wasn't entirely him, was dying a bit day by day. Finally, having given up almost all hope he clutched his cell phone and punched in the number of the one person in Rome who he thought might be able to help.

<beep> "Nori. It's Sol. I need your help finding someone. It's important, can you meet me at my hotel room tonight?"

Giving her direction's he paused a minute before hanging upat last. If anyone could find a missing person it was the cops, the federal government, or Nori. He just hoped she was still around Rome. Rubbing his hand against his lips he wiped away the slick of wetness there before wiping off his hand on the front of his T-Shirt. If he found out she was dead he didn't know what he'd do, but that firey prescence inside him was growing, and it frightened him.