| Chapter 2 "Is he turning blue yet?" Nikolas asked in hysterical glee. "Unhand Andreas at once!" Helena ordered, her worried eyes darting from her helpless servant to her determined grandson. "Where are Lucky and Emily?!" Gia tossed her purse on the table, stepping up behind Nikolas and putting her hand on his tense shoulder. "Please, Nikolas...let him go!" "I want answers!" he said. As he yelled those words, she felt herself go cold. He was lost in his rage, determined to find his brother and convinced that Helena had all the answers. She feared for him, knowing that this was not the kind of man he was. Turning to Helena, she yelled, "If you know something...just tell him, you old witch! " Helena held herself rigidly, not bothering to even look in Gia's direction. "Nikolas," the older woman said, her voice even, "Release Andreas this minute. You're making a spectacle." Nikolas tightened his grip around the poor man's throat. Andreas gagged, trying fiercely to pry his attacker's grip from around his throat. He failed. Large purple dots started to color his vision as one of his knees threatened to give way. Gia was thrown into a nervous panic. Nikolas' face was red, yet it held no identifiable emotion. She looked around helplessly, trying to figure out what to do. Most of the patrons of the restaurant were standing, watching the scene in shock, yet no one rushed to rescue Andreas. Judging by the number of cell phones being bandied about, she had no doubt that the police would be there in no time. She couldn't let them arrest Nikolas for murder. She wouldn’t let that happen. She wouldn't let him do something he'd regret later. "Nikolas!" Helena said again, finally starting to look a bit nervous. Before, she hadn't thought that he would take it this far, but, as the seconds ticked by, she was finally starting to believe he would kill Andreas. Gia touched his shoulder again. "Didn't you hear me ask you to let that little towel jockey go?! C'mon, Nikolas...you're ruining our evening out..." He didn't acknowledge her. His eyes were locked on his grandmother. She looked back and forth between them, and then to Andreas' reddening face. "NO!" she shouted. "This is not going to happen!" She charged Helena, pushing her back down into the chair she had only recently vacated. Completely infuriated by the physical attack, Helena tried to stand back up, but Gia shoved her back down. "SIT! Any good b!tch can follow that demand. Sit your bony @ss down in that chair and don't you DARE move!" Gia ordered crisply, her voice laced with some odd mixture of disdain and hysteria. "Don't make me roll up a newspaper..." Helena tilted her head slightly. She certainly wasn't afraid of Gia Campbell, but she realized that the situation was getting out of control. Andreas' eyes were bugging out his head as he gasped for breath and struggled in vain to garner his own release. She'd miss him if he was gone. Good massages were hard to come by. Though she sneered at the girl, she remained seated. Nikolas watched them both wearily. "Get out of the way, Gia! I need to talk to Helena-" "No you don't," she said, turning and approaching Nikolas. "You need to listen to me. This...this is not the way. I know that you think that she's done something with Lucky and Emily-" "SHE HAS!" "Whatever...but you have got to let Andreas go! And if you won't do it for him, or for me...then do it for yourself. Save yourself, Nikolas," she pleaded. "You're the only one who can." "I'm trying to save Lucky and Emily..." "Forget Lucky and Emily for a minute." She moved closer, drawing his hard brown eyes to her own. "Think about what you're doing. You are choking the life out of that man. He can't breathe. He's dying! Is that what you want? To become what you hate the most...to become Helena?" Nikolas' mouth opened slightly. Gia's words bounced around his head, finding their rest in the part of him that was kind and compassionate. His grip loosened a bit. In desperation, he bit off, "I won't let her take anything else from me, Gia! She took my mother and my uncle. She already took my brother once before. She can't have anything else!" Gia ached all over as she saw the raw pain etched across his face. She cupped his face in her hand. "Don't you understand? If you do this...then she doesn't have to take anything else. Because you'll be GIVING her exactly what she wants. Your soul! Isn't that what happened to your uncle? You said that she destroyed him. Don't let her destroy you! If you love me the least little bit, then you'll save yourself!" He felt her soft touch against his cheek. The cloudy haze of his anger receded, and he realized that she was right. Nothing would be gained by lowering himself to her level. Not that it was really that far down, considering that he was choking a man to death. Nikolas shuddered, his eyes rolling closed as he released a sagging Andreas in one swift motion. The man fell to the ground, twitching and gagging. Helena popped up from the chair and kneeled beside her servant, stroking his hair. "Someone get an ambulance!" Gia stepped over Andreas, wrapping Nikolas in her arms. "I was so afraid..." He opened his arms to her, fitting her against him and holding her tightly. "So afraid..." "The police and the paramedics just pulled up!" A man in a tweed jacket yelled, running into the room in a hurried jog. "Police..." Gia yanked back out of his arms. She looked at Nikolas in terror. Nikolas sighed, pulling her back into his arms. "We'll wait. They'll probably arrest me, but at least we can tell them about Lucky and Emily." "Get a clue, Nikolas! Lucky and Emily are probably down at the playground playing hopscotch." "You don't understand how serious this is, do you?" Shaking her head in dismay, she replied, "IF you really think that they're in danger then what good are you going to do them in jail?' "Not much," he conceded. "Good!" she replied, spotting her brother's bald head wading through the crowd on the far side of the room. "Then let's get out of here!" She grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the kitchen and to freedom. * * * * * "When are you actually gonna act like a real woman and make me dinner?" Luke asked, reaching into the expensive crystal bowl and grabbing a handful of fluffy white popcorn. "Probably," Alexis said, shaking his free hand off of her thigh, "when you learn how to pick up those smelly potato sacks you call socks." "Don't knock the socks, Natasha! They're special import from Cuba. I buy them with my cigars." "Yet another smelly thing of yours that I have to put up with," she replied dryly, flipping the page in deposition she was reading. She leaned back against the sofa, allowing her head to fall onto his shoulder. Chomping noisily on popcorn, he adjusted the bowl so that he could slide his arm around her. "Your whole problem is that you're too uptight. You need to chill, Hon. Relax..." "Pass the popcorn." "Whatever you want...I just got to get some for myself first." Luke picked up the bowl, burying his entire face in it. She stifled the laughter that was welling up in her, knowing that such an act would only encourage him. "Give me the bowl!" she snapped, yanking it away from him. "I don't want your icky spit all over my popcorn." "You love my spit!" he declared indignantly. There was butter smeared all over his face in dripping yellow blobs and a few salt kernels in his eye lashes. When she saw him, she couldn't contain herself and laughed heartily as he shook his head in puzzlement. As she clutched her stomach, she managed to squeak out, "You're all covered...covered in butter." "Oh...that's what that warm stuff is," he replied, smiling. "Let me clean you up," she offered, pulling herself up into a kneeling position beside him on the sofa. She leaned forward, putting her hand on his shoulder. Then, she stooped her shoulders a bit and licked the streak of butter from his left cheek. He whistled in glee. "Clean me up, baby!" He pulled her onto his lap and things progressed nicely until there was a loud knock at the door. "Let it slide..." Alexis smiled in apology as she slid off of his lap and raced across the living room to open the penthouse door. "Who is it?" She stared out into an empty hallway. "I guess they took a hint and left," Luke said, coming up behind her. "I guess..." She went out into the hallway, surprised to see that Johnny wasn't standing at his post beside his boss' door. "Sonny must be out." As she went back to her apartment, she saw the corner of a gold envelope edged under her welcome mat. She picked it up and went back in the penthouse. She held it out to Luke for inspection. His eyebrow's arched in curiosity. He held the long rectangular envelope up to his ear. "It's not a bomb..." "Yeah, that really makes me feel better." "It should..." He tore open the top of the envelope. He pulled out the contents. His face became even more puzzled. "What is it?" Alexis asked, moving to stand beside him. She looked down at the glossy color picture. "I don't get it..." The picture was of two people that both Luke and Alexis recognized. Lucky looked to be in mid-stride, his arm protectively around Emily's delicate shoulders as they neared the entrance of the Port Charles Grille. They were smiling at each other, and seemed to be joking. Alexis tapped a pink fingernail against the image of Emily's white and red dress. "What does this mean, Luke?" Luke shrugged, flipping the picture over. "I think," he said, “a better question would be, what does *this* mean..." Alexis read the words written on the back of the picture. The Game Remains the Same. Hide and Seek * * * * * "Of all the places to go..." Gia rambled, looking around the conservatory of Wyndemere. "You're mad at Stefan...REMEMBER?!" Nikolas sent her a sharp glance and she fell silent. When he saw the hurt look on her face, he softened a bit. "I'm sorry. I'm just really tense. We've looked everywhere and we still haven't found Emily and Lucky. I know Helena took them." Gia nodded. Hours after their "dinner" at the Grill, absolutely no one that they'd talk to had seen either Lucky or Emily. They had simply disappeared. "That doesn't explain why we're here." "I want to see if my uncle knows anything," Nikolas replied, pacing nervously before the fireplace. "You want to know if he's behind this, you mean." Nikolas looked away. He didn't want to believe that Stefan was involved, but it seemed as if he really didn't know the man who had raised him anymore. That frightened him more than any devious act Helena had performed. "I don't know..." They lapsed into silence while they waited for Stefan to come down. It was nearly midnight, and Stefan was probably in bed. Mrs. Landsbury hadn't seemed all that pleased to have to go wake him. Of course, Mrs. Landsbury never seemed pleased about anything. She did her job without complaint. She kept her mouth shut. Twenty minutes after they first arrived, Mrs. Landsbury returned, her gray robe tied tightly around her waist. Apologetically, she said, "I'm very sorry, Master Nikolas, but Mr. Cassadine is not available." Nikolas looked at her in shock. "Did you tell him it was me?" "I did not speak to him directly-" "How do you know that he doesn't want to talk to Nikolas, then?" Gia asked, moving to stand beside Nikolas. Mrs. Landsbury opened her mouth to speak, but a sultry voice cut her off. "Because I told her that he didn't." All three people swiveled to look at the woman on the landing of the staircase. She stood, her hand resting lightly on the balustrade. Her amused gray eyes flashed from Mrs. Landsbury to Gia, finally settling on Nikolas. She walked carefully down the rest of the steps, catching the end of her dark green silk robe so that she wouldn't trip herself. As she climbed down, her incredibly long dark hair swayed back and forth look the pendulum in a grandfather clock. When she came to stand before him, he stared down at her, silently trying to measure her up. He took in the svelte body, the unblemished olive skin, the perfectly symmetrical oval face. Right off, he knew two things. That she was of Greek descent... And that she was trouble. Gia smirked, crossing her arms over her chest as she stared at the strange woman. "And who the hell are you?" The woman smiled devilishly, cutting her eyes to the side. "Celine Cassadine," she replied in that alluring husky voice, " I'm Stefan's wife." * * * * * In a bed made of brass, she lay, stretched out among the rich and plump pillows. She was shielded from the light by the gauzy strips of burgundy material that swathed the bed. Emily moaned, but did not wake, rolling over. Her hand fell across Lucky's broad back. He didn't stir from his drug-induced stupor. The room they were in was elaborately decorated with fine antique heirlooms. Vases. Persian rugs. Lovely paintings. The bed sat in the middle of the room. And, directly across from it on the left, stood the the only visible barrier between them and the world. The door. It was locked. Although they didn't know it yet, Lucky and Emily were prisoners of the game. |