Chapter Twenty-Eight: Know the Rules

"Emily," Sydney gasped, grasping the phone so hard her knuckles turned white. In perfect sync, her father and son rushed to her side. She thought idly that they should have set up something to trace this call, but it hardly mattered. They knew precisely where Emily was. Her mother's letter had ensured that much. "Sweetheart, are you okay?" she asked, even as a little voice in her head whispered, Of course she is. Your mother would never harm her. If she took her, it means she has a plan for her.

"I'm fine, Mommy." Emily's voice, so scared, so brittle, nearly made her want to sob. Sydney's daughter had quit calling her Mommy when she was five years old.

"What have they done to you?" Sydney demanded, willing herself not to cry. "They haven't hurt you, have they?" Oh, God, Sloane…Sark…who knew the mind games the two of them were capable of playing on her innocent little girl?

She's not innocent, and she's not a little girl, the voice in Sydney's head reminded her. She's a young woman, and she's seen and done things you don't even want to know about.

But for as intelligent and grown-up as Emily might have been, Sydney knew that she was still terribly naïve. She was way out of her league as far as Sloane, Sark, and Irina were concerned.

"No, Mom." There were tears in Emily's voice, and it killed Sydney that she wasn't there to wipe them away. "I'm fine. Is Daddy there?"

"Oh, no, sweetheart, I'm sorry, he's--" Sydney felt relief flood through her as the front door opened and Michael walked in, handsome as ever in a blue oxford shirt and jeans. But he looked tired, so very, very, tired, and older than Sydney usually thought of him. "He just walked in the door, baby," she told her daughter, locking eyes with her husband.

"Emily?" he mouthed, his eyes reflecting a mixture of relief and fear.

Sydney nodded, wordlessly handing him the phone.

"Emily." Sydney placed a comforting hand on her husband's shoulder as he spoke. His free hand reached up to grasp it, to hold on to it for dear life. "How are you, princess?"

Princess. He hadn't called her that in years. All at once, the daughter who'd had him tearing his hair out as of late was Daddy's little girl again.

Michael held the phone far enough away from his ear that Sydney could lean close and hear Emily's end of the conversation. "I'm fine, Daddy," Emily said. "But-- I don't know where I am."

It was on the tip of Sydney's tongue to whisper to Michael that she knew where Emily was, to tell him all about the letter. But suddenly it wasn't Emily on the other end of the line. It was a familiar voice, though one Sydney hadn't heard in years.

"Hello, Michael darling." The years hadn't aged Irina Derevko's voice a bit. It was still smooth as silk. "It's been a long time."

"Irina, if you hurt my daughter, I swear--"

"There, there, Michael." Sydney's mother's voice was gentle, scolding. "You know me better than that. I would never hurt your little princess. She's far too important."

"Too important for what?" Sydney squeezed Michael's hand, willing him to keep his temper in check.

"Surely you remember a little thing called the prophecy, Michael."

Sydney and Michael shared a look. Of course they remembered the prophecy.

"If I remember correctly, you busted your darling Sydney out of federal custody in order to prove that prophecy wrong," Irina continued. "You had such faith in her, Michael. That always touched me about you. Of course, your instincts were right. Sydney wasn't the woman described. The woman described wasn't even a twinkle in your eye yet."

"Irina--"

"Tell me, Michael," Irina interrupted. "When you were putting yourself on the line for my daughter all those years ago, did you ever guess it would turn out like this? That she would be your downfall-- the end of your career, your life as you knew it?"

Sydney snatched the phone away from her husband in one deft motion. "Damn you, Mother, I'm sick of you playing games with us, and I will not allow you to use my daughter as a means to whatever despicable end you're working toward."

"Allow me?" Irina's voice was practically a purr. "Why, Sydney, it sounds as if you're under the mistaken impression that you're in control of this game."

Sydney found herself breathless, unable to even speak as her mother continued.

"You don't even know the rules."