He nodded and took a deep breath. “Yes. Severe. They can last for hours. I get dizzy. Sometimes I throw up. Pain pills do nothing. The black light… I wasn’t expecting it.” He shook his head. “I’m very sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she said. “As long as you’re all right.”

“I can’t go back in there. I will walk you around to the front again. We can send a message in to Rita. She will make sure you are readmitted.”

Elizabeth nodded. “Okay.” It was a bizarre and disappointing end to her little date with Ahmet, she must admit. But maybe something good could still happen.

“Maybe you will feel better in a little while,” she said.

He nodded. He seemed weakened, and drained of all energy. “Maybe. I don’t know. It usually lasts for some time. Come. Let’s walk. Let’s get out of this alleyway and back onto the street. It’s better.”

“Okay. But I think in a few minutes, you’re going to start feeling better.”

If nothing else, the one thing Elizabeth had gotten from her dad, and her entire family, was optimism. She could picture Ahmet coming back around in no time. She felt a momentary pang when she considered her family. Had they realized she was gone yet? Man, there was going to be hell to pay.

“I think we can get this night started again,” she said anyway.

Ahmet half-smiled. “I hope so.”

He gestured to her. “This way.”

She had taken several steps before it occurred to her that he was moving deeper into the alley, and not back toward the street. The alley was dark back here—several of the lights seemed to be out.

“Is this the right way?” she said. She couldn’t tell where the entrance to the club had been. They had gone through the entire club and into the VIP section. Then they had come back to the dance floor, and then down a hallway…

“Yes. The street’s up ahead.”

Suddenly a man stepped out of an alcove to her right. He was a tall man, and dark. He looked very strong. He reached for her. Ahmet was several feet away, and didn’t seem to notice. He was still a little hunched over.

“Ahmet!”

Ahmet turned, his eyes wide.

Now there was another man, this one behind her. She couldn’t see him, but she felt his hands. He tried to put a cloth to her face. She ducked away and squirmed out of their grasp. A third man came from an opening on the left. He was dressed in black pants and a black long-sleeve shirt. All three of the men were dressed in black.

She was tangled up with them, kicking at them.

“Ahmet!” she screamed.

She caught a glimpse of him, staring at her, his face a grimace—of pain, of fear, of sickness, she couldn’t tell.

Why didn’t he help her?