Thank you for your feedback.

Chapter Thirteen:
According to Fate?

Misha did not get a chance to answer. Ana's passenger door flew open and an alcohol soaked rag was clamped over her nose and mouth.

As everything started to blur, Ana's eyes took one last look at Misha.

"I'm sorry, Ana," he whispered. "I am so sorry."

xxxxx

Jack was waiting for Sydney and Vaughn outside the warehouse, his phone pressed to his ear.

"Ok then," he said as they approached. "Keep in touch…Dixon," he explained, hanging up. "No new news."

"Surprise, surprise," Sydney muttered. "Is she here?"

Jack nodded. "Inside." He turned on his heel, leading the way. "Irina?" he called out softly.

"Here," she stepped into their view. Seeing Sydney her eyes softened sympathetically. "Sydney, I am so sorry that this is happening."

"What is happening?" Sydney asked alarmed. "We don't know that anything has…what do you know?"

"Elena has gone AWOL," Irina replied. "My people lost track of her and several of her associates, including Freya, a few hours ago."

Vaughn's hand instinctively went to Sydney's, gripping it tightly. "You don't know where she is?" he asked.

"There are a few leads in the information I do have, but I do not yet know if they are viable. However…" Irina trailed off, her voice faltering.

"What is it, Irina?" Jack demanded.

"From what I have gathered, it would seem that all signs are leading to the conclusion that Elena is nearing the completion of her plan."

Ana opened her eyes. Blinking a few times in the vain attempt to clear her blurry vision. Her hands felt heavy and fuzzy, as if she had had a big night before.

Looking up, a stark bright light broke through the blurriness and instinctively Ana went to shield her eyes with her hands. However, as she went to raise them, she found that they were secured tightly to the arms of the chair in which she was sitting.

It took her a few more seconds to realize what had happened. Misha…the car…the other person grabbing her…

Ana felt tears start to prick behind her eyes. The words that she had thrown at Sydney all those hours ago kept running through her mind. Given the situation, there was a very high possibility that they might be the last—

"Ana."

She stiffened at the sound of Misha's voice. She refused to look at him, as he entered the confined cell, shutting the door behind him.

"Ana, I just want to say—"

"Shut up," she hissed. "I do not want to sit here and listen to that sickening voice of yours."

"Ana, please. I just want to explain."

"Explain what? There is nothing to explain. Every word you said in the past months was a lie. A lie to get me here…" she shook her head. "You are despicable—"

"Not every word was a lie," Misha broke in quietly.

"Then why the hell am I sitting here?" Ana yelled. "If you cared about me the way you said you did, then why did you let this happen?"

"I didn't want to, but we are all part of a bigger plan here. There are some things that we cannot control."

"And surely you, of all people, can understand that, Anastasie." A new, accented voice broke into the conversation. It belonged to an older woman, with long, dark, grey streaked hair. She carried herself with such poise, but there was an intensely cruel glint to her eyes. It had to be Elena.

"Understand what?" Ana asked. "That you have brought me here to kill me?"

"Anastasie, we would dream of doing no such thing. You are the Second Coming, we do not want to hurt you," Elena replied. "We just want to help you realise your fate."

Ana's eyes narrowed. "I would never to anything to hurt my brother. There is nothing you can say that would change that. So why don't you just give up on this sick fantasy of yours?"

"It is not a fantasy," Elena shot back. "And nothing we say may change you, but," she leaned in close, her voice low and steady, "there are things that we can do. Many things that you don't have a chance of resisting. So like it or not, Ana, the Second Coming is about to be at hand. Rambaldi's words will be realised."

"Here you go, mum." Billy said as he placed a mug of coffee on front of her.

Sydney, whose face had been buried in her hands, looked up. "Thanks," she said, trying to smile but failing miserably. She looked as if she hadn't slept a wink, but then again, neither had Billy. He had been kept away by an insane guilt, chewing him up inside. He felt that, somehow, he should have been able to stop this from happening.

Sitting down next to Sydney at the table, Billy was considering telling her about the dream that he had been having. Perhaps there was a way in which they would help.

'How?' a voice in his head asked. 'Telling mum is only going to worry her more.'

"Where's Lexi?" Sydney asked, taking a mouthful of her coffee.

"Shut up in her room. I think she's trying to separate herself from everything…" he trailed off, clearing his throat. "What about dad?"

"Shower," Sydney replied.

Billy fell silent, images of his last dream flashing through his mind. Ana had had a knife this time.

"Hey," Sydney reached across, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I don't want you to worry, ok?" she said, trying hard to sound reassuring. As stressed out as she was, she was also Billy's mother and needed to do all she could to lessen his concern.

"I just…I feel like maybe I should have done more. I thought that my opinions of Misha were unfounded. I should have done something to support them."

"Billy, you are not to do this," Sydney said. "There was absolutely nothing that you could have done to prevent this."

"Maybe," Billy muttered as he stood up. "Um, I'm just going to go get changed."

Sydney nodded. "Ok."

As he walked off Sydney brought her hands back up to her face, her eyes welling up. All she could think of what the last conversation that she and Ana had had. She could only hope that they would have the chance to clear the air.

Days passed, and with each excruciatingly slow hour gone, the chances of finding Ana were growing slimmer and slimmer. There had been no sightings of her since she got into that black 4WD. It had been established that the car was a rental, leased to the name Beau Simmons. However, after staff had been questioned, and shown a picture of Misha, it was confirmed that it had been him who had hired the car.

Which confirmed that Ana was in his, or worse, clutches.

Misha's conscience was eating away at him. The way that they were treating Ana…his mother and Elena claimed that they did not want to hurt her. But what they were doing to her, to ensure that their plan would be enacted, it was hurting her. Physically, mentally and emotionally.

"Misha," Freya's voice snapped him to her attention. "They're done. We need you to escort Anastasie back to her cell."

Misha looked at her. "What did you do to her today?" he asked, his voice taking on a slight edge.

Freya's eyes narrowed. "Don't hold back there, son. Say what is really on your mind."

"Fine. Do you really think that the way we are treating Ana is ok? What we are doing to her could be called unforgivable—"

"I don't want to hear about your little crush—"

"This isn't about how I feel," Misha cut her off. "This is about the fact that we are holding Rambaldi's daughter prisoner. The Second Coming. And not only are we keeping her captive, we are brainwashing her! Is it just me or is there something seriously wrong with that?"

Freya's face clouded. "Rambaldi wrote that one of the siblings were to kill each other. We are ensuring that it will happen."

"Bit what if we interpreted the page wrong? What if this is not what Rambaldi intended?"

"Why are you questioning this?" Freya demanded. "I have total faith in Elena. If this is how Elena has read the work, then this is how things are supposed to eventuate."

"And you think that brainwashing is in Rambaldi's plan?"

"Well, unfortunately The Chosen One and The Descendant being against anything Rambaldi related was not in his plan. Had they not been so interfering in the way that they raised their children, this would have been able to eventuate naturally."

"I just hate seeing her hurt," Misha said quietly.

"So do I, Misha, so do I." Freya said, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "But it will all be worth it in the end. I promise."

Ana was silent as she and Misha walked back to her cell. Her mind was a complete mess, a jumble of contradicting thoughts. All she wanted was to go home to her family, to their safety and comfort. But then there was the small voice in the back of her mind that was growing louder by the day. A voice telling her that she did not belong. That she was an outsider. And that they only way to make things better was to take drastic measures…

They stopped outside the door and Ana held her hands out so that Misha could remove her handcuffs. When she was free, she stepped into the cell, waiting for the door to be locked behind her.

"Ana."

"Don't talk to me," she snapped, keeping her back to him. "You are already putting me through enough. Don't add more of your filthy lies to the mix."

"I'm sorry," he murmured, closing the door. He felt nauseous. Ana was a shadow of her former self. The person who had been so vibrant and alive. He didn't care that they had all been working towards this for years. What they were doing to Ana was wrong and he could no longer sit back and witness what was happening.

He had to get Ana out.

A/N: Four more chapters to go...