| Chapter 20 Helena lifted her head in determination. From the set of her mouth, Stefan could tell that she was quite sincere in her declaration of vengeance against her beloved Stavros. He couldn't help but smile. "Mother, mother," he chuckled, "You never cease to surprise me..." "What are you laughing about?" she demanded, glaring at her youngest son. "The depth of your maternal instinct is enough to set anyone off into fits of hysterical laughter." Stefan replied, softly caressing the long metal shaft of the black crowbar. Helena scowled, adjusting the night gown she had been forced to wear all night and day due to her confinement. Allowing her eyes to roam over the people assembled in the rose garden, she replied, "Please spare us all of your so-called wit, Stefan. No one is the least bit interested in anything you have to say." "Well, she might be crazy as a rabid dog and as bitter as a swig of bath tub gin, but I'll be d*mned if Helena ain't right about that one," Luke interjected in a droll tone, shooting Stefan a mischievous sneer. "I, for one," Celine said, waltzing into the garden, "happen to think that agreeing with Helena on any matter is a stupid move. She's an evil old bat. She kidnapped your son..." Luke shrugged. "What does that have to do with the fact that Stefan is a long winded wind bag who spouts off lots of meaningless drivel that bores me to tears?" "Have you ever heard of a united front?" Stefan came forward and placed his free hand on his wife's shoulder. "Don't try to explain strategy to Spencer, Celine. I'm afraid he has problems with anything more complicated than counting to ten. And even then, he must use his fingers..." "Well, maybe you can help me out, there, Vlad. Let's see, there's ONE Cassadine empire and only need of ONE person to run it. With Stavros' return, that means there are two Cassadine blood suckers vying for the same space. Hmm..." Luke began to rub his chin as Stefan glared at him hatefully. "Now, I'm not too good with math-" "Luke, Please!" Alexis begged, tugging on his arm. Luke ignored her, continuing, "-and I may be wrong, but I think someone needs to be subtracted, Steffin...and I'm pretty sure it's going to be YOU!!" "Wrong again, Luke," Stefan replied coolly, resting the crowbar against his own chin, "You've chosen the wrong operation. Instead of subtracting me from the equation, you should have been busy adding the ramifications of what has transpired here today. Stavros *may* be alive. My mother has no control over him. Your son is missing. And you have left the remains of your family unprotected. How easy would it be for Stavros to reach Laura, Lesley, and Lesley Lu in Paris? How easy would it be for Helena to destroy Lucky while your attention is divided? When you finish totaling the sum, you let me know exactly how much you *don't* need any of the useless words I spout or any of the resources I have to offer." As Luke and Stefan faced off, Alexis maneuvered herself between them. "All of this fighting is getting us nowhere! We all need each other to get through this. Right now, we HAVE the best weapon to get Lucky and Emily back safely." "And that would be?" Celine asked, circling around the entire group, managing to place herself directly in Helena's path as the woman attempted to edge towards the garden doors. "Helena! She has our children, and now, we have her!" Luke grabbed Alexis and pulled her into his arms, planting a wet kiss on her lips. "I love that mind of yours, Natasha. It's like a steel trap!! We keep the evil witch..." "Excuse me?!" Helena shrieked, trying to get past Celine, but not succeeding, "I will not be detained on this island! I am returning to my yacht-" "It doesn't look that way, Mother," Stefan responded, walking over to his mother. "It appears that you will once again be a guest in my home." He stood behind her, smiling smugly at his wife over Helena's shoulder. "Oh, Helena Dear," Celine cooed, locking eyes with her husband and licking her lips in sensuous anticipation, "I'm so glad that you've come to stay. We have so much mother/daughter bonding to do. We can bake cookies..." "This is insane! I will not be held hostage!" "On the contrary, Mother, I think you will." Stefan gently poked Helena in the back with the forked end of the crowbar. "Walk!" Celine moved to the side as Stefan jabbed his mother once again. In a hard and commanding voice, he yelled, "WALK!" Helena stumbled forward down the path. She tried to turn, to run, to get away, but found Luke and Alexis to block her escape. "You can't do this!" she screamed. The only response was another nudge of the hard metal crowbar against her back as Stefan guided her down the garden path towards the dark confines of his foreboding island estate. * * * * * “Remove him,” Faison told the guard. “He’s learned his lesson once and for all now. His grave will no longer be empty.” Emily pressed her eyes closed, forcing her face against the strong muscles of Anders chest. All she wanted was to blot out the image of Lucky's lifeless face that was seared into her brain. He couldn't be dead! She sobbed inconsolably, clutching her protector's shoulder tightly. Anders' arms surrounded her tightly as he watched a guard drag Lucky from the room. When the guard and Lucky had disappeared out into the hallway, Faison began to cackle maniacally, his arms raised high in the air as he gloated over his triumph. "Lucky Spencer is Dead!!" he roared, his voice bouncing off of the white cement walls. "Do you hear me, Ms. Quartermaine? He is quite dead...The first Spencer to die at the hands of Cesar Faison, but certainly not the last." Emily began to sob harder and Anders smoothed her hair, turning on his father with enraged eyes. "D*mn you! It's enough that you killed Lucky....do you have to gloat, too?" "In victory, my boy, a man is allowed to do whatever he pleases!" Faison smiled coldly, clasping his hands behind his back. "Not that you would understand victory..." Anders could tell that Faison was in his element. The older man was absorbed in making Emily suffer. He gleaned pleasure from her hysterical weeping and the tremor of her shoulders as she gave in to her grief. Anders saw his father's glee and was disgusted. The reason lay not in his sympathy for the pain inflicted on either Lucky or Emily, but purely on the fact that, even when he had pushed himself to the limit for Faison, the old man still degraded him. Derided him. Discounted him. Faison still thought of him as worthless, as someone incapable of being anything more than the bastard son of Cesar Faison. His father didn't trust him to handle the details. He might be in on the scheme, but it was still Faison's plan. Tasks to be carried out as ordered... Don't make suggestions... Don't break ranks... In fact, Anders was really little more than an extra henchman. And, he accepted that as a necessary reality. If Faison concocts a plan, it should be his baby. He should call the shots. He should pull the strings. The only thing was, Faison wasn't pulling the strings anymore, because it was no longer his plan that was being executed. From the moment that Lucky had been shot, the balance of power had shifted in Anders direction. Unfortunately for Faison, he was the last to know... Anders returned his father's cold smile over Emily's turned head. Faison slipped him a wink, moving a tuft of wiry hair behind his ears. "Eventually, every Spencer will feel my wrath," Faison proclaimed, "And then I'll deal with the Cassadines..." "Won't it be difficult to contend with both families, Father?" Anders asked, stroking Emily's hair and locking one of his arms around her back. "Difficult? You, my boy, are the prime example of someone who doesn't pay attention. The destruction of the Spencers will be the easiest thing to accomplish. And, in the end, I will not have had to put out that much effort. Helena will bring Luke to his knees and all I will have to do then is put him out of his misery," Faison replied confidently, turning his back to pace back and forth between the cots. "Then, while Helena celebrates her victory, I will make my final blow. Sudden. Fierce. Deadly...." "I'm sorry, Father," Anders shrugged, his other arm snaking underneath the back of Emily's knees, "But I really don't see that happening." Faison stopped pacing and spun around to glare menacingly at his son. "You doubt the effectiveness of my plan?" he asked, his voice threatening. "Actually, I do." "Explain yourself!" the older man shouted in fury. He couldn't believe that his son would dare criticize his ingenious plan. It made no sense, especially considering the torturous consequences that Anders knew his father was likely to inflict for such insolence. Anders tossed a look to one of the two burly guards in the room. The man nodded, his hand going to rest on top of his holster. Casually, Anders responded, “There’s a flaw in the design, Father. See, you're counting way too heavily on Helena to do your dirty work for you. That's a mistake." "How so?" "There's a coup on the horizon, Father...Helena is being overthrown as queen and the rebels are out to raid her palace of goodies. She will be able to offer you nothing in the way of resources or revenge." Faison began to laugh, his head bobbing as he looked from the guards back to Anders. "Do you hear this boy? He almost sounds like he has brains in his head!" "DO NOT laugh at me!" Anders roared, rising from the cot with a still sobbing Emily locked in his arms. Emily was completely oblivious to all that was going on around her. All she heard was the quiet sigh of her name on Lucky's lips as he fell to the cold ground. Anders eyes were filled with hate as he glared at the man who had inspired all that was evil inside of him. "You're so sensitive....you need to toughen up, Anders....be a man!" Faison roared, clapping his hand against his hip. "But, perhaps it was rude to disregard your opinion outright. Why don't you share with me the source of your information." "I never reveal sources, but I can tell you that I am absolutely right. Helena's reign is over and the new regime is not interested in doing business with YOU!" Anders stood straight, his shoulders square as he faced the older man. The men's eyes locked as Faison's hands clenched into fists at his side. He barked, "And who, pray tell, do they intend to hire as my replacement?" "I think you already know that I've one-upped you, Father." "Yes...I can tell by the irrational look in your eyes that you've betrayed me." Faison gazed at his son with disgust. He could feel rage pool through his limbs and out to his clenched fists. Any minute he knew he would wrap those fingers around Anders' neck and squeeze until he heard the last gurgles of life pour out of his body. "However, I can't for the life of me figure out how you think you're going to pull any of this off." "It's actually very simple. I'm going to take Emily and I'm going to walk out the front door," he responded matter-of- factly. Faison laughed again. "You fool! There is no way you'll be able to walk out the front door. My guards will be all over you before you can even get out of this room." "Will they?" Anders asked smugly as a gun shot sounded off behind where Faison was standing. The older man swiveled around just in time to see his most prized guard slowly sink to the ground, a gaping red bullet wound in the middle of his forehead. The other guard pointed his gun directly at Faison. Three more of Faison's guards ran into the room, their guns drawn on their old employer. Anders smiled at his father, "Peter, there, was the last hold out. He refused to see the writing on the wall. Oh well, his service to the Faison family is officially over. As is mine. From now on, I call the shots...Hand over your gun, Father." Faison looked as if he was going to resist, but then took into consideration that there were four guns pointed directly at him. Viciously, he whipped his weapon from the waistband of his slacks and placed it in his son's outstretched hand. "You won't get away with this!!" "I already have," Anders said, pushing past his father and walking confidently from the room. He was so elated and Emily seemed to weigh practically nothing in his arms. He felt as if he could bear the burden of ten men, such was the adrenaline rushing through his body. The guards filed out behind him, one of them placing Faison in a headlock and pulling the man along. Anders carried Emily's shivering form through the twisting corridors of the elaborate mansion. His bare feet slid across the slick marble of the foyer. "Mr. Faison," a guard at the door nodded, swinging it wide open for Anders' passage. Faison winced at the idea of Anders being given respect he hadn't earned. The little twit had no right to betray him like this. "Take Ms. Quartermaine out to the limousine, Walters," Anders commanded, placing Emily and the gun in the guard's waiting arms. He turned back to the huddle of guards, waiting as Faison was brought before him. "Loyalty is more often bought than earned, Father. I believe that is a lesson you taught me. You'd be surprised at how easily your trusted guards changed allegiance. Or maybe you wouldn't... So, have you anything to say to me before I leave, Father?" Faison freed himself of the guards grasp, standing face to face, toe to toe with his wayward son. "I will destroy you!" he yelled before spitting in his face. Anders growled in fury as the wet saliva slid across the bridge of his nose and down his cheek. He reached out and grabbed a handful of Faison's wiry gray hair. He wound it around his fingers, yanking the struggling man towards him. Slowly and meticulously, Anders began to wipe the spit from his face with his father's tangled mass of hair. When he was finished, he pushed Faison away. "Emily and I are leaving, now. You needn't worry, I've left you your precious Lucky to do with as you please...see, and you thought I was heartless! You will, however, be kept confined to the premises until I return." Anders turned his back and began walking towards the door. "YOU FOOL!!!" Faison called after him. "How am I a fool, Father?" Anders called back. "You've left me alive!! I will destroy you!" Anders stopped, turning back to face Faison with pity. "For all intents and purposes, you're already dead. As dead as my mother... It's over, Father. You've lost." * * * * * Celine slipped her hand in Stefan's pocket as she kissed him She was on a mission. Her hands sought out the ring of keys that would allow her entrance to the room in which Helena was being kept. She dragged the ring of keys out with the tip of her fingernail and palmed them. "Stef..." she purred as she drew back, "I think I'm addicted to the taste of your lips..." "Perhaps we could find a few moments to appease your addiction, Douchenka. I believe Alexis and Spencer can handle the encryption without our assistance for a short while," Stefan said invitingly, pressing Celine back against the hallway wall outside of his study. He ran his hand through her long streams of jet black hair. "I wish we could..." "But we can't?" She batted her eyelashes as she reached around to squeeze his behind with her free hand. "Well, I think that's up to you. Of course, I am ready and willing for whatever fun you have in mind, but, I am hardly very good with priorities. You, on the other hand, are very good at prioritizing, and right now, I'd think that handling Helena and finding Nikolas would be at the top of your list." She squeezed harder. "You're correct," he sighed, burying his head in her mound of hair and breathing in the clean scent. "Helena is temporarily handled. I should be able to keep her locked in the East wing for awhile. Finding Nikolas...that is my most important task. I must find him...and Stavros....I must contain this situation before total chaos ensues." Celine nodded gratefully, her hands closing more soundly over the keys that dug into her palm. "I understand that you're busy." She swung out from him, twirling behind him as she pouted, "That doesn't mean I like it, though." Stefan turned, grabbing her chin and pulling her to him. Their faces were inches apart and his bright green eyes bored seductively into hers as he replied, "Don't fear, Douchenka, for very soon, I will give you all of my attention." * * * * * When Stavros' cell phone rang, he smiled apologetically at Nikolas before answering it. "Cassadine," he said into the mouthpiece. "My family is driving me crazy. Come get me," Tracy ordered in a huff. "I'm busy. I'll send the limousine after Randall has taken me home." "Not later! NOW!" "I told you I was busy!" Stavros said, his voice raising. He noticed that Nikolas' interest had been piqued by the conversation. Stavros turned to the side, "Randall will be along shortly." "Are you listening to me?! If you, and I mean YOU, are not pulling into the driveway in at least twenty minutes, I'm going to start making phone calls! And the first one will be to Stefan!!!" Stavros cracked his jaw loudly, his eyebrow twitching as he roared, "You'll be the death of me, Quartermaine!" "Me? Nah...you're my darling, Cassadine," Tracy replied, a delighted lilt entering her voice. "Hurry the hell up!" she yelled before hanging up. Stavros scowled as he put his phone away. He tapped on the glass that divided front from the back. When Randall let it down, Stavros said, "Change of plans. Take us to the Quartermaine mansion." "Of course, sir," Randall answered as he let the glass back up. "The Quartermaine mansion?" Nikolas asked. "Does this have something to do with Emily?" "No. This is personal business." "What does that mean?" Nikolas waited for an answer, but none came. He rolled his eyes, slumping back in the seat to watch the fading scenery as the limousine drove the familiar route to the Quartermaine mansion. He was finding his father to be more odd than he had expected. Not that he had ever expected to speak with Stavros Cassadine. What was it with Port Charles that dead was never really dead? All of these resurrections were really starting to annoy him. Ten minutes later, the limo stopped and the door was opened for them. "Come along, Nikolas," Stavros said as he slid out and started towards the entrance. "Father...what are you doing? You're supposed to be dead. You can't just go barging in the Quartermaines home and expecting a warm reception!" Nikolas cried as they walked up the steps. "My, my, don't you sound exactly like Stefan. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised...whiners rear whiners. The sound of your voice is irritating, Nikolas," Stavros said coldly, "Remain silent." "You can't order me not to talk!" Nikolas fired off in indignation. Stavros rang the doorbell. "I just did." Reginald opened the door and looked at Stavros blankly. "Who are you?" Nikolas stepped forward, "Hello, Reginald. Would you mind if we-" "Nikolas!" Stavros seethed, shooting him a vicious look, "I believe the man was speaking to me!" Nikolas scowled angrily at Stavros. "He wouldn't if he knew who you were!" "You, my boy, need to work on being more pleasant! Perhaps I should teach you..." Reginald’s shook his head in dismay as he tried to shut the door. Nikolas was a family friend, but whoever he had brought him was definitely not the sort who should be allowed entrance. "That's no way to treat guests, Reginald," Stavros spat out, forcing the door open and pushing the butler aside. "Don't worry, we'll announce ourselves." Stavros stalked through the foyer, throwing open the first set of doors he found. A cluster of Quartermaines stopped arguing and looked up to see an unfamiliar man come into the room with Nikolas Cassadine in tow. "What's going on?" Alan demanded. "Nikolas?" Ned asked. "Who's that man?" Edward barked. "Will someone please explain what's going on?" Monica pleaded. "It took you long enough, Cassadine!" Tracy said, glaring at her husband. "You knew Nikolas was coming over?" Monica inquired. "Who's Nikolas?" Tracy asked, picking up her purse and standing. "Nikolas Cassadine!" Ned yelled, "The person you were just berating for tardiness." "Oh," Tracy grinned, "This is the kid?" She strolled up to where Stavros and Nikolas stood. She gave her stepson a long slow look. Winking, she replied, "But I can see he's not a kid anymore...You look like your daddy." Nikolas started to say something, but a glance from his father reminded him that he had been silenced. He shrugged. Edward came over to the group. "Tracy! I demand to know what's going on in my own house!" "It's my house, Edward!" Monica interrupted. Rolling his eyes, Alan snapped, "Only because I gave it to you!" Tracy pushed some dark hair out of her eyes, as she swiveled to face her family. "Attention all!! I have an announcement to make. About a year and a half ago, I met and married the presumed dead Stavros Cassadine." The room broke out in a roar of yelling as each Quartermaine bombarded Tracy with questions. "Stavros Cassadine? Why that mad man is dead!" Edward responded. "Well, if he's standing right in front of you, Father, he must not be dead," Alan shot back. "Besides, someone coming back from the dead is hardly beyond the realm of possibility in this town. And, YOU, for one, should know, having done it yourself." Edward crossed his arms over his chest. "That was different! Tracy, what are you doing with this Cassadine psychopath?" "Birds of a feather," Monica quipped, staring unabashedly at Stavros. Stavros returned the stare, clasping his hands behind his back as he absorbed the surroundings. The Quartermaine mansion was everything he thought it would be. Quite American and quite boring. He snickered as Monica turned away. "So, how did they unthaw you?" Alan asked. Ned looked puzzled. "Unthaw? Why would they need to unthaw him?" "Because he froze to death in that ice chamber," Alan answered indignantly. "No, no, Alan...that was the father...he's the one that froze in the ice chamber," Ned explained. "I know that, but Stavros fell in, too, right?" "No...that other one...the brother...Toby, or something. The one that was with Alexandra. He's the one that died with Mikkos," Monica clarified. "I think his name was Tony," Edward interjected. "That deviant got Alexandra killed!" "Exactly," Ned said, "in the ice chamber." "Then what happened to Stavros?" "Stefan said he died in prison," Monica answered. Alan shook his head no. "That was the other brother!" "What other brother? Stefan only has one brother!" Monica yelled in frustration. "If you ever listened to anything anyone else said, you'd realize that you don't know everything." Alan glared at his wife before continuing, "Not, Stefan's brother, but Mikkos' brother." "Tony?" "No, Monica! The other one!" "We're getting no where!" Edward railed, heading for the phone. "It's obvious that you people know nothing. I'm going straight to the source. Since Luke Spencer killed them all, he's bound to know which one he froze, etceteras..." As the Quartermaines continued to quibble, Stavros grabbed his wife's arm and pulled her to his side. In her ear, he whispered, "Make them stop this foolishness, Tracy, before I start making examples out of your precious family members." Tracy felt a small panic, knowing that her husband tended to lean toward the violent end of conflict management. “There’s nothing I can do. You have to let it die out on its own. “No, I don’t.” Stavros walked into the middle of the room, loudly declaring, "I really did think that Tracy was exaggerating when she explained her family dynamics. Sadly, I see that she was not. You people offend me! From now on, I wish to have no contact with any of you. My wife, my son, and myself will now depart. I hope you all burn in hell like the Bolsheviks you are!" "That's quite a condemnation coming from a Cassadine," Ned said bitterly. "This is your son, Edward, is it not, Quartermaine?" Stavros grilled his wife. "Yes," she replied, "that's Ned." Stavros smiled coldly, eyeing Ned like something scummy underneath his shoe. "Be pleased that I listen to your mother, Ned." "Why?" Ned asked. "Because if she hadn't pleaded with me, I would have killed you for disgracing my sister. Illegitimate or not, Cassadines are beyond the rubbish you subjected Alexis to. Her scantily clad image was scattered all over the Internet. I hold you responsible." Ned did not respond and Stavros smiled. Meanwhile, Edward and Alan wrestled over the phone. “You are not calling Luke!” Alan roared. “He’s the perfect one to call! He is to the Cassadines, what the Orkin man is to household pests!” “Father! What if the people who took Emily are watching? We don’t want them to misinterpret our call to Luke. He is with Alexis...what if they think we’re planning something and harm Emily? Where would we be then?” “Someone’s got to do something!” Edward stormed as he lost his grip on the phone. “Standing around talking to a dead man is not helping my granddaughter!” Upon hearing Emily’s name, Nikolas looked to Stavros. “Shouldn’t we tell them what we know?” he whispered to his father. “Absolutely not! If you want to retrieve your friend and brother unharmed, then you had best keep quiet. Cesar Faison is not a man easily defeated,” Stavros replied, a secret smile crossing his face and then quickly disappearing. “We can’t let them continue to worry-” Nikolas started, but stopped when his father held up a hand and reached inside his coat pocket. “We’ll discuss this later, Nikolas,” he said flatly, turning and fleeing the all consuming noise of the room. He closed the door behind him, his muscles relaxing as the arguing was blocked out. He pushed the appropriate button on the phone and answered. "What?!" "Stavros, you seem ill-tempered tonight." Stavros' angry face softened to a genuine smile. "I was waiting for you to call. How have things progressed?" "My father is neutralized," Anders responded happily. "Things are on schedule." "I knew you wouldn't let me down," Stavros replied proudly, walking the length of the parquet floor. "You left Luke Spencer’s son with Faison?" "As ordered." "Good...I assume you took Emily...." "You said I could, Stavros." "I did, Anders. I meant for her to be a gift to you for your loyalty. BUT, make sure you are careful with my niece. Her role in this is not yet finished..." * * * * * "Don't any of you ruffians know how to knock?" Helena demanded, smoothing the silk lounging pajamas Stefan had given her to wear. They were remnants of her last visit, back when she had been a prisoner of her son's poison. Her face contorted from annoyance to anger as she saw who had come to pay her a visit. "What do you want?" Celine rolled her eyes. "You're so rude, Helena. No wonder they've locked you away. Too bad they didn't throw away the key, though," she replied, dangling the keys in front of her mother in-law's face before palming them. "Once again, I ask, what do you want?!" Celine kicked the door closed behind her, but she didn't notice when it didn't close all the way. "Relax! I'm just checking in with the boss. How's it going?" "How do you think it's going? I have been victimized by my ingrate son! And, he will pay!! How is the destruction of Stefan coming along, Celine?" "I told you it was going to take awhile. Don't get antsy. Perfection can't be rushed," Celine said flippantly. She tried to look confident and devious. If Helena suspected for a minute that she was double crossing her, she knew all would be lost. Even though she was being held prisoner, Celine knew that Helena was still dangerous. She was the kind of woman that made things happen and Celine was desperate to make sure that none of those things happened to her. "Stefan will die when I say he does. When it's time...until then, you just sit tight and worry about that other lunatic son of yours." "I pay you well, Celine. Very well. So far, I have seen no return on my investment. I am starting to wonder if I'm wasting my millions. Convince me otherwise. You use all of your influence with Stefan and have him release me from this room! Today!" "Don't be stupid, Helena!" Celine responded. "The minute I ask him to release you, he'll be on to me and on to you. It'll be over! He'll certainly kill me for betraying him and then there will be no one to stop him from coming after you. Certainly not Stavros!" Helena's eyes narrowed as she stared at her daughter in-law. The woman had not been present when the coffin had been opened. She had not heard Helena's declarations of vengeance. "This isn't the first time you've mentioned Stavros in this conversation. What do you know about my first born son?" Celine's heart began to beat rapidly as she turned to walk around the room. She took in the grandness of the large canopied bed shrouded in lace. She stopped in front of an ornate mirror on the wall and stared at her reflection. The face that looked back was calm and collected. She smiled when she saw that her persona had not been compromised. Nonchalantly, she replied," All I know about Stavros is what Stefan told me. He mentioned something about his brother being behind your...grave predicament. That's it." Helena accepted this. "I'll worry about Stavros. You just worry about staying alive. The only way you're going to do that is by handling Stefan. Is that clear, Celine? I want Stefan out of the way!" "For the ten thousandth time, Helena, YES, I understand. I will take care of Stefan," she yelled, practically running to the door. "Soon!" Celine left the room, closing the door. She fumbled helplessly with the keys as her vision was clouded with tears. Tears? Since when did Celine Kanafanas cry? She found the right key and jammed it into the lock. She secured the door against any attempt Helena might make at escape. Her hands were shaking as she tried to pull the key out of the lock. "Why are you up here, Douchenka?" Stefan asked, appearing out of nowhere and standing directly behind her. His warm breath fell against her neck. His hand clamped down over hers, holding it tightly against the brass door knob. “What kind of game are you and my mother playing?" |