Something Wicked - TOC

Chapter Nineteen



Carly’s hand beats frantically on the door. “Come on, let me in!” she yells as she grimaces with pain. Her feet are killing her since she ran a mile through a graveyard and into the streets in her bare feet, desperate to escape the madman who had kidnapped her. “Luke? Laura? It’s important. I need to talk to you.” Carly shields her eyes from the glare of the light pouring through the side window to the door and carefully peers through the windowpane.

“What’s all this noise?” The door to 24 Royal Street opens abruptly, and Laura is standing face to face with Carly. A frown creases her forehead and her lips purse with annoyance. “Carly? What are you doing here?” Laura looks down at Carly’s scraped, bleeding feet and stands shocked at the sight with her mouth hanging open.

“Let me in,” Carly sputters angrily as she pushes past Laura to enter the house. “Took you long enough to answer the door. I’m freezing.”

Laura looks bewildered. “I was reading a story to Lulu. I came as fast as I could. What in heaven’s name has happened to you? You look awful.”

“Thanks for the compliment,” Carly says. “Is this the thanks I get for coming here to warn you?" She nervously looks around the Spencer living room, for what, she doesn’t know. Her eyes flicker from the fireplace mantel to the knickknacks lining the end tables. Finally, she plops onto the sofa and draws her feet up under her for warmth.

“What can I help you with?” Laura asks politely.

“It’s more like what I can help you with,” Carly replies with a sigh. She rolls her eyes and begins her story.

~*~*~*~

"I'm still so scared," Felicia says breathlessly as she seeks the comfort of her police commissioner husband. Mac's strong arm surrounds her, and she relaxes for the first time that evening.

Mac looks over Felicia's shoulder to the scene nearby.

Sonny is seated beside Detective Garcia's desk, a live wire. Sonny is restless, moving at all times - smoothing his hair, fiddling with his shirt, adjusting his suit jacket. He'll do anything to recover Carly, as evidenced by his willingness to involve the PCPD. As usual, he is lost without his better half, the woman who soothes his fierce emotions and who brings reason and order to his life. What will he tell Michael? Sonny slams his hand hard on top of Garcia's desk, causing the cop jump up from his seat.

"Settle down, Corinthos," Garcia says. "You've answered all of my questions, and I'll put my best men on the case."

"When?" Sonny grits out, his eyes staring right into Garcia's soul. "Next week?"

"Being a smartass will get you no where," Garcia informs him.

Mac approaches the men with Felicia in tow. "Sonny. I have a hunch about your wife's disappearance."

Sonny's eyebrows rise. His hand waves with annoyance. "What is it? Come on, spit it out."

Mac gives him a frown and shakes his head at Sonny's usual arrogance. "Someone tried to kidnap Felicia tonight. He was foreign, spoke in a foreign language, but she detected one word -- it was a name, Laura."

Sonny's eyes never waver from Mac's face. "So?"

"So, Laura Spencer is blond; Felicia is blond; and so is your wife. The man was disappointed when he saw Felicia's face. He seems to be looking for Laura."

"And I think the language was Greek," Felicia states. "Not that I'm a language expert, but that's what I think I heard."

Sonny morosely utters a string of Greek words, and Felicia nods rapidly, pointing toward Sonny with a waving finger. "Yes! That's it! That's the language."

"So, who's this Greek goon that's after the town blonds?" Sonny wonders. He scratches his nose, snorts and shakes his head.

"The man, according to Felicia's description, is handsome, in his early fifties perhaps? He fits the profile for Stavros Cassadine. I looked up an old, case file, and he certainly could be the man."

"But Stavros Cassadine is dead," a droll voice announces. Alexis has left Mac's office and joins the group. "He died nearly twenty years ago, a victim of manslaughter -- committed by Luke Spencer."

"Never convicted," Mac adds.

Alexis rolls her eyes. "Regardless, you are searching for a corpse, gentlemen."

"But what if he never died?" Felicia nearly shouts. "He is a Cassadine. That's possible -- isn't it?"

Alexis stares down at the floor, her own heart thumping in her chest. Stefan's unusual behavior over the last few days, and Nikolas' sudden demise may not be coincidences. And, as Felicia commented, who knows with the Cassadines. Who knows what the family is capable of? Alexis herself has experienced more than she wants to remember. "Dead men don’t come back to life," is all she can say as she turns her heel and strolls out of the PCPD.

~*~*~*~

"Is this your illustrious headquarters?" Luke sniffs in amusement as he walks around a bare room containing only two desks and several stacked boxes.

Todd rips open one box and nods with satisfaction as he positions various items on his desk -- a photo of Starr, a favorite writing pen, and his ever present magic eight ball. Todd lifts it and smiles when he reads, Yes - Definitely. "This is the headquarters for my new empire," he announces proudly. "Goodbye Llanview, hello Port Charles."

Lucky tears at one box, ripping off the side in his hurry to reveal its contents.

"Watch it, Junior," Todd warns with a letter opener poised in his direction, ready to stab if necessary. "All contents are valuable."

"Networking for Dummies?" Lucky questions as he lifts the book from the box and begins laughing his head off.

"Shut up!" Todd barks. "That's for my secretary."

"Who is..."

"You, if you don't shut up, wonderboy." Todd grins evilly at Lucky, imitating a fussy woman with a pad and pencil, patting her severe bun hairstyle.

"At least I know my way around a computer."

"At least I know how to run a business. You're just a kid. Take notes, and you might learn something."

"Yeah, how to be a jerk," Lucky mutters under his breath as he meets his father's eyes in agreement. "I'm co-owner of this newspaper."

"Which needs to go to press."

"We don't have a press yet, Todd."

"We'll rent one."

Luke looks at his watch. "At this time of night? What kind of drugs are you on, Manning?"

"Not enough to be talking to you," Todd retorts. He gives a toss of his blond disguise wig and frowns when it totally obscures his vision, causing him to look like Cousin It with a trim. For the tenth time in recent days he wishes fervently for his old scar. His intimidation capabilities are suffering as a result of plastic surgery. Sure, he is beautiful now, but how do looks compare to power?

Todd glances nervously toward Blair, who is sitting on top of Lucky's desk and looking bored, swinging her QVC genuine snakeskin purse back and forth, giving Todd a menacing smile. "What?" he snaps.

"I'm bored."

"You're always bored. Get a job."

"My job is taking care of my beautiful daughter."

"Our daughter," Todd corrects.

Blair hops off the desk and sighs. "Well, anyway, I have to get home to her."

Todd gives her a lascivious grin. "You can at least stay the night, Blair. I have a room with a king-sized bed." He nods and raises his eyebrows to encourage her.

Blair sighs again and crosses her arms in protest. "You'll be busy all night, Todd. You know how you are with a breaking story."

Todd and Blair's repartee is broken by a shriek from Lucky's direction. Lucky hops back several feet away from a box that he's unloading, and stands shaking with a queasy look on his face. "Oh, man," he says with disgust.

"What's wrong, pipsqueak? You didn't find my adult video collection, did you?" Todd leans over and fishes through the box with a clumsy hand. "Ohhhh!" he groans as he races away from the box, hiding behind Lucky and pushing the boy forward as a shield. As Todd and Lucky fight over who will stand in front of whom, Blair and Luke watch three mice scramble to the top of the box and teeter on the edge before deciding to slide down the box's smooth edge and team up to head in Todd's direction.

"For heaven's sake!" Blair crabs as she adjusts her wrist to a fighting position and pushes Todd and Lucky out of her way. BAM, BAM, BAM! She swiftly moves her QVC genuine snakeskin purse with lightening speed, as if a grand champion of the Whackamole game at the carnival, flattening the poor creatures and creating a bloody mess that sloppily drips down the side of her chosen weapon.

"That's my kind of a woman," Luke purrs in appreciation. "You've got yourself a live one, Todd."

"I'm never going to be the same," Lucky gulps as he holds a hand to his throat to prevent the bile from rising any further. As he glances in Blair's direction, a loose piece of tangled guts drips to the floor. "Oh yuck," he gripes as he turns away and walks as far away from the carnage as possible.

"Well, somebody had to do it," Blair complains. She wipes the soggy edge of her purse against Todd's desk and shrugs daintily.

"Why don't you meet me back at the room?" Todd says softly as he walks her to the door, his guiding hand gently moving from her waist, ever so slowly down toward her firm buns. "You can plan how you want to spend your newfound fortune." His eyes sparkle in the direction of Blair, and her eyes flash in return. Greed is definitely her middle name, and Todd knows just how to handle her. That's what she's always liked about him.

Todd pats her on the bum and blows a kiss at her cheek. "See you later," he promises. When her stiletto heels click and clack down the hall, three men relax as he shuts the door.

"Smooth, Todd," Luke smirks.

"Where's your woman?" Todd snaps.

Lucky ignores them in favor of protection behind his desk. He warily opens drawers, inspecting them for any potential infestation.

Luke holds his finger in the air as his cell phone rings. Practically no one ever phones him except for Laura, so he's quick to take the call. He frowns at the rapid fire speech that assaults his ear.

"Whoa, whoa. Laura! Slow down. Breathe. In and out...in and out...that's a girl," Luke carefully prompts his hysterical wife. He holds his cell phone an inch or two from his ear, so sharp and shrill his wife's voice sounds.

"Carly says she's been kidnapped?" he asks in disbelief as his blue eyes flood with concern. "By Stavros Cassadine? Laura, honey, you're not making any sense. Stavros is dead. I killed him, remember? He's been worm food for for decades."

Todd and Lucky look sharply at one another and then shrug. For Lucky, drama, especially of the Cassadine kind, is a day in the life at the Spencer house, and Todd certainly hasn't heard of a man named Stavros. What does he care?

"I'll be home in a minute, babe," Luke announces. "Lock all of the doors, and sit tight. No, keep Carly there. I'll take her to the police station so she can fill out a report." He hesitates as one more thought hits him. "Check on Lulu. Make sure she's safe. Keep her with you and don't let her out of your sight."

"Cassadine business," Luke informs Lucky and Todd as he pockets his cell phone and heads for the door.

"Do you need my help, Dad?" Lucky offers.

Luke shakes his head. "No. This is a new development. Someone kidnapped Carly. She escaped and thinks it might be a Cassadine. Probably a crazy cousin on holiday. You know how it goes." Luke points toward the flattened mice. "They're as prolific as these critters."

"Dad," Lucky repeats in a softer tone as he joins his father at the doorway.

Luke hesitates and catches Lucky's eye. "What?"

"Nikolas is dead," Lucky says. "I keep thinking about it over and over, and it still doesn't seem real to me." Lucky's face is shadowed with pain and regret as he looks down at the floor and toes at an imaginary speck. "He was my brother."

Luke softens at Lucky's obvious distress. He cups Lucky's head and draws him closer to him. "I know," he says. "Nikolas wasn't my favorite person, but he didn't deserve to die the way that he did. I'm sorry you're feeling sad about it."

~*~*~*~

Nikolas darts his eyes back and forth from his ailing father to the open mausoleum door that promises freedom yet potential danger from the pursuit of his ruthless uncle. He hadn't been able to join Carly in her frantic escape into the night, instead choosing to remain with his father, a man he hasn't seen in nearly two decades, but who is suddenly becoming the major focus of his uncertain existence.

"Father," Nikolas says softly, delicately removing the bloodstained purple altar cloth from Stavros' battered skull, trying hard not to cause his father further injury. He shakes Stavros' shoulder, encouraged by the man's low, thick moans and fluttering eyelids. "Wake up, Father!" Nikolas feels his stomach clench with fear, the feeling rises to grip his heart tightly. "Please...hurry."

Stavros grimaces, and his eyes open as painful slits on his still handsome face. "Brephos," he whispers when Nikolas' face registers in his vision. His eyes darken, and he attempts to rise. "Laura," he growls.

Nikolas draws Stavros closer to him, aware that the man can no longer stand after having his head bashed in by metal candlesticks that Carly had wielded in her desperate hands. Stavros' bleeding head lies against his son's chest, and he pants with the exertion of remaining awake. Nikolas is saddened by the idea that his father is hell bent on finding his mother, regardless of her current marital status. She's married to Luke Spencer, the same as she was years ago when trapped on an isolated island, a prisoner of tragic obsession and desire. Nikolas' heart rate increases with his uneasy thoughts, and his hand, placed over his father's chest, detects an identical rhythm, one that refuses to stop in the face of impossible lies, deceptions and hopelessness. The Cassadine medallions of both men quiver against their chests with the force of life beating within, as if defiantly swimming against a tide of despair.

"Mother," Nikolas begins, but then hesitates and allows silence to fall between them. There is no use in further destroying his father with the knowledge that Laura does not want him now or even in the past, that Stavros' obsession is a lonely one, not shared by the object of his desire.

Stavros' hand reaches up and weakly pats Nikolas' cheek as his brown, almond shaped eyes lock into the identical pair matched in his son's face. "I will find your mother," he promises in his native Greek language. "She will...take care of you."

Nikolas' eyes fill with tears. He knows that no one can help him, that he's too far gone. He's not exactly sure what he's done, but it is bad, and he knows it as the desire to run and hide seizes his entire being with an insistent drone. He frowns as he reviews the events of the past days. He recalls someone trying to hurt him, and his hand circles his throat, surprised when his skin feels rough and broken, as if he'd been garroted. Andreas!

Nikolas stands abruptly, and his father soundly falls to his side on the cold, concrete floor of the mausoleum. But where is his grandmother? Andreas never appears unless he is by her side. Helena's cold, dead, staring eyes accusingly rise in his mind, gripping him with their gleeful, glazed over intensity, and he briefly feels the need to vomit with the bile rising up his throat. He spreads his palms against the clammy walls of the mausoleum interior and hangs his head, appearing like a young man assuming the position, ready to be arrested, handcuffed, and hauled off to jail.

"Uncle," Nikolas speaks in a low voice that echoes with a lonely sound. He instinctively calls out for the only man he's known as a protector. Turning and leaning against the wall, he runs his hands through his hair as his mind short circuits and refuses to allow the truth of his life to sink in. He is worried about Stavros, who isn't moving from his prone position on the floor, and he isn't feeling well himself as the throbbing in his head reminds him. Uncle has all of the answers, doesn't he? So why is he suddenly afraid of the man who has raised him to be the next Cassadine Prince? And why was his father, his birth father, in the attic at Wyndemere...alive?

~*~*~*~

Alexis steps onto the porch of Wyndemere, looking around her at the gloomy, antiquated structure that looks as one with the land and the massive trees that overhang and sway over it. She shivers with the feel of a thick, oppressive breeze that swirls around her body and almost reluctantly rings the loud doorbell, banging the doorknocker at the same time, feeling a lump in her stomach at the sick, evil expression on the metal lion's leering face.

The door swings open, and Stefan's annoyed face appears, his hand holding a cell phone to his ear. Alexis imagines she's heard him shouting an order before opening the heavy oak door, and there are men milling around in the house, men with large, bodyguard builds.

Stefan closes his cell phone and stares at his sister. "Alexis," he says without welcome.

Alexis frowns with confusion as she brushes past her brother and enters Wyndemere. "You don't seem to be grieving," she says tersely. "Oh, and thank you for inviting me into your home."

Stefan slams the oak door shut and marches into the living room, his hands behind his back, and his chin jutting out in defense. "This is a difficult, time, Alexis, as you can imagine. Nikolas was like a son to me."

"And a beloved nephew to me," Alexis retorts with the force of Stefan's rejection causing her to looked pained. Her curious eyes stare at the men who hang out in the background, looking toward Stefan as if impatiently awaiting orders from their boss. "What is going on here?" she demands. "Who are these men?"

"Associates," Stefan answers in a clipped manner.

"What are you planning?" Alexis sits down on an overstuffed sofa and crosses her leg at the knee, obviously settling in until she receives the answers she is seeking. "I was just at the PCPD." Alexis pauses to study Stefan's reaction, but he is stony and shows no emotion. "Someone has been kidnapping blond women over the past few days in Port Charles. Any idea of who might be the culprit?"

"And how would I know?" Stefan spits out with his eyes flashing his displeasure. "This is ridiculous. I insist that you leave me and go home."

"You told me that this is my home...whenever I want to visit," Alexis replies with a hurt tone. "What happened to my protective older brother?"

"He wants his younger half sister to grow up and stop playing games."

"The police believe that Stavros Cassadine might be alive," Alexis states in an aggressive move toward the truth. "How can that be possible?"

Stefan's cheek flinches. He rocks on his heels, and his fists clench behind his back. "Go home, Alexis," Stefan says tightly, with no emotion.

Alexis leaps to her feet and pushes her face into Stefan's. "What have you done?" she nearly shouts. "What has happened to Nikolas? Is he really dead?"

Stefan laughs derisively. "What have I done?"

Alexis blinks in surprise. Suddenly, she sees it all, as it really is. Stefan is a monster, more dangerous than Helena ever was, hiding behind his guise of sanity, a feat that Helena was never able to master. With Helena gone and her challenges over, Stefan is now free to exercise his plans. The problem is, Alexis cannot decipher her brother's thoughts and intentions -- if she were ever able to.

Stefan assumes the dominant role he favors. "Are you a Cassadine?" he inquires. "Have you ever been called to prove it, sister dear, or do you expect continual handouts and protection from the likes of Helena?"

"What about you?" Alexis asks.

Stefan suddenly jabs his hand into Alexis's hair and pulls hard, bringing her face within inches of his. His eyes are hard and cold like green ice with no love in them for her. "Prove it," he growls. "Are you a Cassadine?"

"Yes," Alexis nods in the only answer that is acceptable. She fears for her life if she responds negatively. Her posture tightens against the blow that she feels might come from the hand of her enraged brother.

"Then you will do as I say," Stefan says, dismissing her with a shove. Alexis tumbles backward, almost falling to the floor. He paces before her, a lion considering his prey. "Yes, I have a plan," he admits. He nods as his eyes narrow at the implications of the next twenty four hours.

"What?" Alexis asks breathlessly.

"Silence!" Stefan thunders, pounding his fist into a nearby table. He breathes in deeply and blinks as he fights to regain his composure. "If you value your life, you will speak no more to the police. I expect you back at Wyndemere at eight o' clock sharp tomorrow morning. No questions."

"Okay," Alexis says regretfully. She smoothes her hands over her suit and doesn't bother with her hair, which Stefan has yanked into disarray.

"You will make your alliance with me," Stefan informs her as he leads her forcibly to the door. "Or you will die."

Alexis turns to look once more into her brother's face, a brother she never knew. The door slams in her face, and she is standing alone outside of a dreary mansion as a light rain begins to fall.

~*~*~*~

Laura paces nervously back and forth in the Spencer living room, wringing her hands and alerting her ears for any signs of intrusion. Luke had nearly insisted she accompany him with Carly to the police station to get to the bottom of the situation, but she'd declined, citing a need to drop Lulu off at Bobbie's for her protection and safety. Luke had relented in the best interests of his young daughter, but Laura's motives are more complicated than she'd related to her husband.

Laura stops pacing to stare out into the night, imagining Stavros' harsh laugh invading the dark clouds, signaling his ill intent toward a reluctant bride. She frequently runs her hand over her blond hair as if smoothing it into place, or perhaps she unconsciously remembers the excessive admiration that her madman pseudo-husband had placed on her fair locks. How can he be alive? she wonders. I saw him. I saw him dead. Her mind returns to the day that Luke had pushed Stavros down the stairs, and the appearance of Stavros' neck, bent so oddly and painfully with its fatal brokenness. Stavros' last words as he lay dying in General Hospital come hissing back to haunt her:

“Laura…we are…not finished. I...love you. The Cassadines do not die with me….”

"No!" Laura protests as she purses her lips against the possibility. "He's not alive. No." She is sad at the thought of Stavros' handsome Greek face, so soulful with such large brown eyes mirrored in their son's own gaze. But, the man's physical beauty was no match for his black heart, a trait shared by all of the Cassadine men. Laura's fervent hope through the years had been for the safety of Nikolas' soul, that he'd bypass the Cassadine curse of death and destruction...a winding trail of so many wasted lives.

Laura's eyes fill with tears at the realization that Nikolas has not escaped. Stavros was entirely correct. The Cassadines and their brutal curse had not died with him. Nikolas' young life had needlessly ended in death, and his hands were soiled by the murder of his grandmother. And who had killed Emily? Surely not Nikolas...

But, Laura's breath quickens with the memory of Stavros' murderous rages flashing in her mind, the terrified screams that emitted from her lips as she raced through the Island mansion, futilely searching for a hiding place to protect her from one more night of rape and debauchery. And then, miraculously, Stefan's bedroom door had opened, his strong arm reaching out to take her by the collarbone, dragging her into his chamber and locking the door. Had their lovemaking been by force or had he been her salvation? She had never satisfied her heart with an answer, nor had she mentioned the incident to a single soul, especially Luke.

Laura shivers, holding her arms around her body to ward off the chills of the past. She walks to Luke's liquor cabinet and removes a bottle of his finest Scotch, pouring the equivalent of a stiff drink and downing it with a swallow, chasing it with a shout at the burning pain searing her throat. Laura's eyes widen and then tear and blink furiously. It had only been one night, one night away from a madman. Or are there two madmen, two brothers linked through eternity by the Cassadine brand on their souls? Which is worse? An obsessed rapist or a sly, scheming man who had appeared in Port Charles to torment her? A glance never passes between Laura and Stefan that isn't pregnant with meaning and remembrance.

Laura reviews her recent conversations with Nikolas' uncle and the odd way that he kept trying to manipulate the arrangements for their dead....son? Laura gives an anguished cry and sinks hopelessly down on her hands and knees, her head bent forward with her blond hair sweeping the floor. She holds her stomach as terror mounts within her. Son....Stefan had called Nikolas their son, not his nephew. Her eyes look up cautiously through the wayward strands of her disheveled hair. Is it possible? Why would Stefan lie about such a monumental piece of information? Laura drags herself up from the floor, steadying herself by leaning on a chair. Her breath catches in her throat. What exactly is Stefan capable of? If he's lied about Nikolas' paternity, what else is he hiding?

Laura's hand trembles as it covers her mouth in horror. Stavros. She looks up, her eyes shining as another thought flickers with hope. Nikolas?

~*~*~*~

Luke walks into the PCPD, holding Carly's hand as she tries to hobble in a pair of Laura's shoes, which are two sizes larger than her own feet. Luke has never been especially close to his niece, but this appears to be Cassadine business, and it has his full attention.

"Sonny!" Carly shouts out when she detects her husband's familiar black curls. She tries to run to him but begins to fall out of her shoes. Sonny rushes forward and picks her up, enfolding her into his arms and giving her a dimpled smile.

"Carly," he says with relief. He hugs her so tightly she protests and hits him on the chest.

"Ouch," she pouts.

Sonny leans in to kiss it and make it better, and the two lock lips while a small crowd watches. They finally stop at the sound of Luke clapping.

"True love, okay, we get it. Now let's get down to business." Luke turns toward Mac and says seriously, "She thinks a Greek Cassadine nabbed her. He was with Nikolas Cassadine, and Nikolas called him 'Father.' Now isn't that odd? Both of them are supposed to be dead, and Stavros should be especially ripe by now."

"We suspect that Stavros Cassadine indeed is alive," Mac replies. "He's been kidnapping women all over Port Charles, mistaking them for Laura."

"So..."

Mac's eyes turn serious. "He's after your wife, Spencer -- again."

"Carly was in a graveyard near the river, Mount Holyoke," Luke informs him. "They're holed up in a mausoleum. I'd say that's appropriate, wouldn't you? Stiff and Stiffer."

Mac snaps his fingers in Detective Garcia's direction. "Garcia, go check out the mausoleum. Take two men with you. Call Taggert and have him meet you there." Mac turns to Luke again. "We'll get them," he promises.

"Sure about that, Bubba?" Luke replies. "Apparently, the man has evaded us for nearly two decades."

"He's had help."

"Helena is dead."

Mac meets Luke's eyes. "But Stefan isn't."

Across the room, Sonny's lovefest is interrupted by the shrill ring of his cell phone. "What?" he growls into the device. All he wants right now is to take Carly home and put her to bed, rub her feet and whatever else ails her.

<<< Mr. Corinthos?>>> a stupid sounding voice intones.

"Who is this?" Sonny asks impatiently as he holds a hand on his hip.

<<<Mr. Sorel asked me to call.>>>

Sonny's eyes darken in anger. "I have nothing to say to the man. He's dead meat as far as I'm concerned. Tell him to watch his hide. I'll be coming after him. This time I won't be merciful."

On the other end of the line, Guido, Sorel's excessively dim-witted associate, frowns in confusion. <<<Dontcha wanna know my news?>>> Guido's face holds a hurt expression.

"Is this a prank call?" Sonny shouts into the phone. "Get off the line."

Guido is poked hard by Sorel, who prompts him to continue the conversation. <<< Mr. Sorel has Elizabeth Webber in his possession. He wants a meeting and an exchange?>>>

Sonny's face floods with fear. Liz is a friend of his, and he wants no harm done to her. "What? What are you talking about? You kidnapped her?"

<<<Yeah.>>>

"Put her on the line!" Sonny shouts. "I won't move until I hear if she's okay. Or if you truly have her."

There are sounds of scuffling and mumbling in the background, and Sonny holds his breath until he hears the scared voice. <<<Sonny?>>> Liz's voice sounds frightened and very tired.

"Liz? Honey, are you all right? They haven’t hurt you, have they?"

<<<Sonny. I'm so scared. I've been in the dark forever, and my wrists are bleeding...>>> Liz is cut off before she can finish her sentence.

"If you hurt her at all, you'll pay. I'll make you pay!" Sonny promises.

There is more talking in the background and Sonny can hear Sorel yelling something that sounds like 'give it to me.' <<<Be at Pier 12 tomorrow morning at 6AM. Come alone with one million dollars in small bills. Understand?>>>> Sorel is breathing hard with the drama of the moment.

"Yeah. Got it," Sonny says. The phone clicks and he turns off his cell. He waves to Luke. "They've got Liz Webber, Lucky's girlfriend. Sorel's mob is holding her for ransom."

~*~*~*~

"I've got to get out of here," Lucky says to Todd. He looks around him in confusion, undecided about where to go or how to feel with the desperate, fierce emotions building within him.

"Calm down first," Todd advises. His young friend doesn’t seem steady enough to be on his own.

"She's my girlfriend!" Lucky angrily yells. His eyes tear up with hurt. "We've been separated for too long. I just got back to her and now she's gone. I can't let anything happen to her! I love her."

"I know. I've seen you two together."

"I'm leaving. You take care of the paper. I have to find Sonny and my dad. I'm going to the docks with them. Nobody's going to stop me."

"Okay. I know I won't."

Lucky looks up in surprise.

"I'll call Briggs and have him do the write-up on the dead prince. I'll go with you to find Liz."

"He's my brother," Lucky reminds Todd. "Have some respect."

"But he's dead, and your girlfriend's not...not yet that is."

"Thanks, Todd," Lucky sputters with sarcasm.

"Don’t mention it." Todd claps Lucky on the back. "Besides, someone is likely to die in this caper. It'll make for a good story. We'll be right there to get the scoop. I can see the headline now: 'Guts Meet Glory.'" When Lucky looks aghast, Todd smirks. "Welcome to the world of journalism, Junior."

~*~*~*~

"Father, come. We have to find a better place to hide. Carly may return with the police." Nikolas hauls Stavros to his feet by taking him under the arms and lifting. Stavros is not a small man, and neither is Nikolas, but both are hurt, and moving becomes a challenge. Nikolas drags his father out into the cold, rainy night air and leans him against the door, out of breath from the exertion.

"How are you?" he asks Stavros. Stavros' eyes are open, but they appear glazed, as if he's in pain. Lifting his hand to Nikolas' hair, he strokes it thoughtfully. "I want to help you, to keep you safe from...from..."

Stavros never completes his sentence as they are ambushed by Stefan's men, who brandish their guns and grab both he and Nikolas harshly by the arms. One goon holds a gun to Stavros' head and says, "Make one sound, and I'll blow your head off. We have orders not to harm Nikolas, but you're up for grabs. Don't give us any trouble."

Stavros lowers his eyes in defeat, remaining silent to protect his son. Although he's barely able to walk and has lost blood, his mind is still turning, thinking of ways to save them. He's survived Stefan's torment for years and has no intention of admitting defeat. His heart clenches in worry when he hears Nikolas cry for him in an adult voice that carries the same pain of separation as if he were still the infant who was torn from his mother's bosom. Laura, he thinks as fierce emotions seize his soul. I must find her. We must help our son.

Next chapter...

Bombs away!

Nurse Christy gets floored

Stavros gets the right blonde

Five Cassadines and a yacht