~Jacob~

"Hey, tiny! What's the good word?" Jacob called out to one of his 'little Rooks.' Lately, more and more orphans and child laborers were flocking to the Rooks, lending their aid in the form of information and whatever goods they could get their small hands on.

"Well the Blighters are hoppin' mad over what you and your boys did earlier today with their cargo!" the child whispered rather loudly and enthusiastically.

"No! And here I thought they'd be just delighted," Jacob smiled.

"A bunch a' them that were at the warehouse will be out on the town tonight causing a ruckus, I hear," the boy added.

"Oh? Well then perhaps some of them would enjoy a bit of company," Jacob mused, "And smalley," the assassin added, "keep your head down. No need to go looking for trouble... at least wait till you're shoulder height."

"Yes, gov'na!" the boy nodded and ran off.

Jacob continued his walk down London's streets, taking in the sights. It had not been long since he and his sister had moved in from Crawley. Although his adrenaline was still running high from the cargo hijacking that he had spontaneously orchestrated just a couple of hours earlier, he couldn't quite shake off the growing feeling of loneliness that had begun to sink in since his move to the city.

He and Evie were squabbling more and more about the direction they should take in regards to London's Templar threat. She was borderline obsessed, Jacob thought, with finding the Shroud of Eden in an attempt to remove the Templar's greatest tool and source of threatening power from their grasp. Jacob, meanwhile, was more inclined to dismantle the Templars from the ground up, which meant ridding the city of their Blighters.

Jacob was sure his way was the better course of action- certainly the more fun course of action at any rate- but as he noticed an abandoned book on the ground, covered in dirt with plucked flowers sticking out from between the pages, he couldn't help but think of his sister and how the two of them were spending less and less time together. Their disagreements were slowly chipping away at the bond they shared as twins.

Jacob reached down and picked up the book.

"Wasn't Greenie going on about flowers the other day?…" the assassin said to himself under his breath. Henry Green had been spending more time with Evie than Jacob had as of late, and was even accompanying his sister on the field in search for clues of the Shroud's whereabouts. Although Jacob tended to tease Evie quite a bit over Henry's bumbling attempts to court her, if Henry made Evie happy, then that's all that really mattered to Jacob.

Jacob placed the dirty little book into his pocket with a small smile. Henry was collecting flowers for Evie, that much was clear, and the awkward guy would certainly need all the help he could get if he wanted to win Evie over.

The assassin noticed a small group of Rooks laughing among themselves on a street corner, their spirits still high from recent successes over the Blighters, and he jogged over to join them. To deal with the slight loneliness, Jacob had taken to spending time with his new Rook recruits.

"Jacob!" several of the Rooks called out at the assassin's approach. The general consensus among the Rooks in regards to Jacob was that of great approval. They loved that one of their leaders was 'one of the guys' who was not above spending time with his subordinates. In contrast, to the average Rook, their other leader, Evie, was more akin to a force of nature- an aloof and deadly shadow.

"Hey, fellows!" Jacob beamed at the group of young men and tipped his newsboy cap. They all greeted him in kind, "What say we go out on the town tonight? Raise a glass or two for our victory, and for the boys we lost today."

In total, four Blighter supply carts had been successfully hijacked earlier in the afternoon, which meant sizeable amounts of leather, cloth, metal, and various other raw materials could now be put to use by the Rooks. They'd overpower and eventually overthrow the Blighters one day, Jacob knew. It was only a matter of time. There was a cost to these victories, however, and spending time with his Rooks meant losing friendly faces- and three of his men had died for the cause that day.

"Sounds great!" One of the Rooks responded, and the rest nodded their heads in agreement. The Rooks had several carriages in their possession, and together, the group of five plus Jacob boarded one and made their way to one of the more popular pubs in the borough.

Jacob cringed slightly as they blew past a police carriage. He wasn't the one driving, but they were going way too fast, and Freddy would most certainly not approve, Jacob thought to himself. A smile formed on his lips as he thought about that. Exasperating Sergeant Abberline was quickly becoming a past time for the assassin.

They rounded a corner and disappeared down a side street before an officer in the carriage could finish his warning shout.

"Hey, pull over for a second," Jacob ordered once it looked like the cops weren't following them. He had spotted another group of Rooks, and there were two in particular among them that he needed to talk to. As the group in the carriage waited more than a little impatiently for Jacob to return, the assassin spoke quietly to a large man and a tiny woman who were notably the only two in the group not wearing the familiar Rook colors of green and yellow.

"What kept you, Jacob?" one of the gang members asked when the assassin hopped back into the carriage.

"Somebody's got to keep working while we go out and play," Jacob grinned in response. They all cheered as they tore down the street for a night of drinks at the pub.

~Theo~

Bruised, scraped up, and with an aching head, Theo made his way back to the Wolfshead Brewing Co. only a few hours before closing time. He reported the hijacking of the brewery's supply cart to the foreman, who was incensed by the news.

"These blasted Rooks need to be dealt with," Foreman Jackson spat as he removed his top hat and scratched his head furiously, "this will set back our productivity for the rest of the week, damn it! We needed those barrels, Blackwood!"

"I know, sir," Theo mumbled, still a bit too shaken up, sore, and exhausted to be furious about what had transpired. He was still feeling dizzy, the skin below his left eye was bruised from Jacob's punch, and the right side of his face from temple to jaw was scraped from road rash and bleeding slightly.

"Just go. I'm not paying you for the rest of the day," the foreman barked sharply before turning away from Theo. The older man summoned the other Blighter workers and began issuing orders.

Theo sighed, his anger slowly rising as he climbed the stairs to the third floor to gather his things. The children were waiting for him, and had listened to the exchanged that had taken place on the ground floor. They all watched in silence broken only by Owen blowing his nose as Theo ignored them all. He didn't have the energy to deal with them at this point, and he was as pissed off at himself and his inability to handle the hijacking as he was with the hijacking itself.

"Rooks, eh?" Thomas piped up when Theo had begun his descent back to the ground floor. He continued when Theo merely grunted without looking at him, "I've seen them blokes around."

"Yeah, well they're trouble," Theo replied tersely, pointing to his bruised face, "Best keep away from them, the lot of you…. Wait, what the hell happened to you, Thomas?" Theo frowned upon seeing that his face wasn't the only one that was worse for wear. There was a small cut on the side of the boy's mouth, and his entire left cheek was bright pink.

Thomas said nothing. He merely huffed and crossed his arms as an indignant look formed on his face.

"He mouthed off once you was gone," Elliot piped up, to Thomas's annoyance, "Mr. Morrison didn't take too kindly to it, neither."

Theo looked over at Morrison, a grizzled man nearly as big as his friend Clobber, who was currently speaking with Foreman Jackson. Like Theo, Morrison's job was to keep the brewery's workers in line, but Morrison had a temper, and did not put up with insubordination lightly- not from the adult workers, and not from the children.

Theo ran a hand through his dishevelled hair, only then realising that he had lost his bowler cap at some point while he was hanging onto the side of the supply cart, "What did I tell you about behaving yourself?"

"Yeah, yeah mum," Thomas grumbled and spat on the floor, "You say them Rooks is trouble. Well they can't be any more trouble than you Blighters."

Theo frowned and his eyes moved slowly from one young face to the other, their eyes still bright and hopeful despite their lot in life. But Theo could think of nothing to say in response to Thomas's accusation. He turned and walked down the stairs.

He then quickly departed, ignoring the stares of the workers and other Blighters on his way out, and grateful that the children hadn't asked about the shoes he said he'd bring back to them.

"Feel better, Mr. Teddy," Owen called out quietly before burying his face in the handkerchief Theo had given him, and proceeded to erupt into a sneezing fit.

Theo collapsed into his bed as soon as he got to his apartment. Although he was asleep within moments of lying down, he woke up a mere two hours later to sharp pains radiating from the back of his head. The sun was barely above the horizon by this point, so he peeled off his sweaty, dusty Blighter uniform, turned on his oil lamp, and stumbled into his washroom.

After cleaning his scrapes and taking tally of his myriad of bruises, he decided to take a closer look at the map of London's underground that Thorne had provided him.

'Be attentive to any manner of odd or seemingly out of place etchings or symbols…" Theo read absently.

He'd have to start searching soon, and with the night still very young, Theo decided that now was as good a time as any. He'd likely be too sore in the morning to do much of anything, and his current headache was preventing him from further rest. At least the dizziness had subsided, only to be replaced by a grumbling stomach.

Theo had no food in his lodgings, so his wanderings about in the dark- both literally and figuratively- for whatever he was supposed to be searching for would have to wait until he grabbed a bite to eat.

He was in no mood and no shape for trouble tonight, and besides, he would need to walk about unnoticed soon enough, so Theo did not put on a fresh red Blighter jacket. He instead opted for a dark brown one over a white undershirt. With any luck, he'd go unrecognized by any Rooks, and perhaps even by many of his own fellow Blighters. He also put on a pair of gloves, which he'd certainly be needing tonight.

He passed by a mirror on his way out the door, and slicked his dark hair back with a comb. His stubble was still neat enough to not require a shave, but it was a shame he couldn't do anything about his black eye.

As evening enveloped the sky, bringing with it a distinct chill, Theo walked briskly through the streets toward his favorite pub. Foot and road traffic was fairly high, and plenty of people were walking the same general direction he was, but despite this, he couldn't shake the eerie feeling of being deliberately followed. There were no suspicious figures among the rabble that he could see whenever he snuck a glance over his shoulder- certainly no one wearing green at any rate. Yet still, that feeling of being watched and slowly pursued persisted until Theo stepped out of the murky streets and into the familiar glow of the pub.

He noticed a group of Blighters in the back corner drinking and conversing quietly among themselves. Theo could tell by their body language that they were more than a bit on edge, and he quickly slipped unnoticed into a side booth in the opposite corner of the room. He just wanted to eat and drink in peace without having to discuss the damn Rooks, at least for the rest of the night.

No sooner had he ordered a biscuit and a bottle of beer when a small cadre of Rooks sauntered into the establishment as though they were its owners- with a smiling Jacob Frye front and center. Theo sat there, mouth slightly agape, unsure how to feel about running into this man yet again.

Jacob and his boys noisily plopped down at a round table in the center of the room and immediately called a waiter over to order their first round of drinks. Theo shook his head slightly as he shot a glance at the Blighters in the back corner who were all but gnashing their teeth at the sight of the brazen newcomers. This was going to devolve very quickly, and Theo wasn't sure if he should make for the door now, or sit back and watch the show.

He took a mouthful of the biscuit and a swig of his beer. The reality of the situation was that if he was recognized and word got out that he'd witnessed an altercation without helping his fellow Blighters, his sister Nora would be first in line to liberate Theo from his entrails. He rubbed his weary eyes and took a bigger swig from the bottle. At least he'd had the mind to not wear his Blighter colors this evening. It was then that Jacob spotted him and smiled, which threw Theo off guard and sent his pulse hammering into his ears.

Damn it all.

Theo nearly lost the fight with his knee-jerk reaction to look away, and managed to stare back at Jacob with an impressive poker face that betrayed no hint of weakness- no hint of the nervousness that was starting to creep its way up Theo's spine.

This guy had beaten him senseless and tossed him out of a moving vehicle like a ragdoll not seven hours ago, and yet the feeling that was sweeping over Theo at that moment wasn't the rage that he was expecting.

What was it instead?

His bruised eye twitched as he tried to process what the hell was going on with him.

Suddenly, one of the Rooks turned to face the group of Blighters in the back corner and, clearly egged on by his fellows, he flipped them off. Angry muttering and a sharp threat from one of the Blighters signalled to Theo that it was time to leave. Screw it. He wasn't going to get sucked into a pub brawl. He didn't have the energy for it and he hadn't yet procured a replacement firearm. Besides, this wasn't how he envisioned his chance at getting back at Jacob.

Theo scarfed down the rest of his biscuit and slipped into a group of panicking patrons who clearly shared his intentions to make a break for the door. Several of the Rooks and Blighters had now gotten out of their chairs and were hurling insults at one another, to the horrified dismay of the pub's owner.

He had successfully made it out into the street when he felt a hand clap down on his shoulder. Theo whirled around quickly while taking a leap back, pulling out his knife as he put distance between himself and the threatening figure.

"Well hello, hello," Jacob said in a decidedly unthreatening and rather lighthearted voice as he fiddled with his newsboy cap.

And there was that cheeky grin again.

Theo stood there, still in a protective stance with his knife held out in front of him, and beer bottle clenched in the other hand, his face stony with tension. He quickly noticed that Jacob was at least three inches shorter than him, but was proportionately just as well-muscled. If nothing else, Theo's longer arms would provide him with better reach if a scrap broke out between them- unless Jacob was armed, which he most likely was- in which case Theo was as good as done for.

Annoying little pinpricks were spreading across the skin of his forehead and the back of his neck as he simultaneously weighed his defensive options and marvelled at how handsome Jacob looked under the glow of the street lamp next to them. It was the first time he'd gotten a really good look at the other man up close.

That second thought had Theo growling aloud in frustration at himself. It was ridiculous for him to be thinking about such things at a time like this.

"It's alright, mate," Jacob continued in the same friendly tone, interpreting Theo's growl as a threat to back off, "I just wanted to talk."

"Talk?" Theo mumbled the word more than anything else, and a dumbfounded look spread across his face before he could control it. He stared intently into Jacob's eyes as he regained his composure. He had to remind himself of how crafty Jacob had proven to be in the fighting ring. This could very well be a trick to get him to lower his guard.

More shouts erupted from within the pub. It would only be a few moments before the fighting started.

"Well, yes," the smile never left Jacob's lips as he spoke, "We may have gotten off to a poor start, you and I. You remember me right? I cleaned your clock earlier."

"How could I possibly forget?" There was far less bite and far more deadpan in Theo's response than he would have liked as he pointed at his conspicuous black eye. Jacob's subsequent chuckling was rather fetching to Theo's ears. He could feel the corners of his own mouth pulling up into a smile in response to the sound, which he only barely managed to subdue, but not before Jacob had noticed it, "What is it you want, exactly?" This time, there was more of an irritated edge in Theo's voice.

"I've watched you out there today, and I won't lie, I like what I see," Jacob's tone and playful smile sent a rush of color up Theo's neck and into his cheeks. A complement was the last thing he was expecting from the guy.

And was that a flirt?, his mind demanded. It couldn't have been. Jacob had to have been messing with him. In a second Jacob would whip out a blade and run him through.

"So I'm offering you a place among the Rooks."

Theo would have to sit and ponder the ridiculousness of this situation at a later date, assuming he made it through the next few moments alive. Here he was face to face with the Rook ringleader. He should be attacking Jacob, or making an escape to inform Thorne, or anything other than standing there all red-faced and flustered, and staring dumbly at the guy. In fact, Theo quickly realized that his inaction might even be giving Jacob the impression that he was entertaining the idea of taking the guy up on his offer.

"Absolutely not," Theo managed to grunt as he braced himself for the attack that was likely coming. That was, after all, the wrong answer to Jacob's question, but as a Blighter it was oh so very right.

But no attack came, not from Jacob at least. The same could not be said for the Rooks and Blighters in the pub as shattered glass and pained screams began piercing the night air.

There was only a small disappointed frown on Jacob's face.

"Lots of your fellows are starting to join us, you know," Jacob replied matter-of-factly, which made Theo frown as well, albeit much more deeply. If true, then this spelled disaster for the Blighters' future. Theo should have said something defiant, but honestly what was the point of acting like a tough guy when he was so clearly not in fighting shape?

"That doesn't surprise me," Theo finally replied, then ventured, "I'm sure you can be very persuasive."

The smile found its way back onto Jacob's lips, and once again Theo was at a loss. He certainly hadn't expected the leader of the Rooks to be anything less than cold and ruthless- the way Thorne, his sister Nora, or any of the Blighter leaders were.

Jacob was a strange, lively, and rather charming young man… and yet he had no qualms about hijacking cargo that contained shoes and clothing for the kids at the brewery. Theo held on to that last thought- despite the fact that Jacob would have had no idea that the cart contained those items- because it made Theo experience a twinge of anger. He'd have to hold on to that anger because being angry at Jacob was better than whatever the hell else he was feeling right now.

A round of gunshots quickly ended the moment between the two men.

"Well, I hope you change your mind," Jacob shouted and darted back toward the pub's door, "Now, if you'll excuse me," He flashed Theo an incredible smile, tipped his newsboy cap, and ran enthusiastically back into the chaotic pub.

Theo wiped his brow and watched Jacob go, and as he let out a deep sigh, he realized just how tense he had been during their exchange. He guzzled down the rest of his beer, tossed the bottle aside, and broke into a jog away from the pub. He could hear terrified Blighters fleeing out of the tavern behind him, thanks in no small part to Jacob, so he had to put some distance between them lest they notice him.

He spotted an unmanned carriage and quickly slipped behind the reigns, taking off at a brisk trot down the street. Pushing Jacob to the back of his mind, Theo pulled out the folded map that Lucy Thorne had given him and studied it as he drove through the yawning darkness, adjusting course based on where he figured he should begin his search.

Once satisfied, Theo took the small lantern hanging from the driver's side of the carriage, abandoned the vehicle, and continued on foot, pulling up the hood of his jacket over his head. Clouds had rolled in over the last hour, and the ever-widening spaces between the dim street lamps became dense, shrouded pockets of gloom. Here and there he could pick out a handful of scattered silhouettes several hundred paces from where he stood, but he was otherwise alone at the edge of a construction site.

With the lantern in hand, Theo again checked his map then slid cautiously down the slope of a gravel pit and into the gaping darkness of a sewer tunnel. He was certain that no one had seen him enter, and yet he dimmed the lantern as much as possible, leaving himself with just enough of a glow to cut away at the smothering darkness.

The air grew increasingly dense, moist, and foul with every step, and the quiet splash from the trickle of sewage water at his feet became more of a sickening squelch the further he ventured into the abyss.

The most unsettling thing however was the reverberation bouncing off the walls of the tunnel from deeper within. It was a low-pitched, almost pulsating din that elicited a growing sense of dread within him.

Theo exhaled to steel himself onward, and the sharp hiss of his breath echoed around him as well. To think, he could have taken Jacob up on his offer and joined the Rooks… perhaps he could've been wherever Jacob was right now. That would have been leagues more preferable than this eerie place. But could it really be that easy? Could he simply turn away from his life as a Blighter and walk the streets as Rook?

He shook his head slightly as he pressed onward. It wasn't possible. He'd sworn the Blighter owth. He had more loyalty than those spineless traitors who were defecting to Jacob's side. Once again that face flashed in his mind's eye, and Theo could feel the color rising up his neck. Jacob was handsome, that much was as apparent to Theo as grass being green. And while a handsome face would always pique his interest, it wasn't generally enough to get his heart racing or his face helplessly red.

There was some sort of energy about Jacob that threw Theo off balance. There had to be. It made it difficult for him to even concentrate. It was an annoying feeling, and a dangerous one at that. What would have happened if Jacob had decided to stop messing around with him and attacked him like he should have? Why had Jacob approached him like that? And he'd been awfully friendly too.

The tunnel opened up before him and dropped away into a deep chamber filled with a vile moat of water and human waste. Three branching tunnels stretched out ahead of him on the other side, connected only by narrow- and by all appearances unstable- wooden beams to keep him from falling into the filth. The mere thought of that sent Theo's stomach turning.

He couldn't simply make his way straight ahead across one of the wooden beams and into the tunnel on the opposite side. That would have been too easy. No, according to his map, he would have to jump onto another beam mid-way in order to reach the tunnel that branched off to the right.

Theo rubbed his brow then attached the lantern to his belt. He proceeded cautiously onto the wooden beam, which wasn't even wide enough for him to place both feet together side by side. He winced as he wobbled slightly, but his balance held. If he fell into that muck he was done. Thorne could kiss his ass, kick his ass, flay him alive, do whatever she pleased with him, but he sure as hell wasn't going to make swimming in excrement his new pastime.

And now it was time for the jump. There was a roughly six foot gap between the beam on which he now crouched and the beam to which he needed to reach. Theo was fit and agile enough to make the jump, but the other beam was just as thin as the one he was on, and his forward momentum would likely not allow him to land nicely without toppling over.

He instead opted to jump short, reaching out with his hands to grasp the beam and pull himself onto it. He winced again when the beam shuddered beneath his weight, but he managed the rest of the way without falling.

Something has to go well tonight, Theo thought to himself. He proceeded along the new tunnel, swearing to himself every time it branched off into multiple dark pathways and hoped he'd be able to make his way back out. He came to a stop once he caught a glimpse of something scrawled on the wall of the tunnel near his feet. It was tiny, and had to have been scratched onto the surface with some sort of fine tool. Had he not been informed to look out for some sort of symbol, he'd have missed it entirely.

It was a circle with three dots arranged in a triangle within it. It was simple enough to remember, but he'd have to write it down once he made his way back to his apartment. Theo bent down, pulled out his knife, and began scraping away at the symbol until there was nothing left to see but scratch marks on the tunnel's wall. He then reached for a handful of sewer muck at his feet, suddenly very grateful for the gloves he'd put on- he'd have to burn them later since there was no way he'd be ever be putting them on again- and rubbed the filth on the scratch marks to make them less conspicuous. Thorne hadn't ordered him to cover his tracks or destroy clues. Theo was simply doing so because he felt like he had to.

It was then that he heard the hollow clacking of slow footsteps in the distance behind him. Theo froze and shut the lantern off. His heart hammered in his ears as the darkness swallowed him up. Evidently the feeling of being followed all night wasn't just paranoia on his part.

Groping around in the total darkness with his free hand, Theo made his way as quietly as he could into a different side tunnel and waited. The footsteps had stopped, and he wondered if he'd just imagined it as a minute went by without any further sound other than dripping water and that throbbing hum from deeper within the tunnel.

But then they started up again, and sweat began to trickle down Theo's forehead as the footsteps grew louder and louder with each passing moment.

~Jacob~

Jacob pulled out his kukri and went to work, slashing the blade across the back of the nearest Blighter and shoving the man to the ground with a forceful kick. It was as though a tornado had materialized within the pub, with bottles, chairs, and tables being hurled through the air.

The assassin rushed forward and slid across the floor, dodging below the knife thrust of a second Blighter to trip a third one who was about to end the life of one of the Rooks. When the Blighter came crashing to the floor, Jacob shoved his hidden blade down and into the man's throat.

He then let his kukri fly, and it gleamed like silver as it windmilled across the room to bury itself into the chest of a third Blighter.

While the remaining, wounded Blighters hobbled out into the street screaming, they were quickly replaced by a new batch of eight who came rushing into the pub.

"Looks like we'll be getting our second round after all, boys!" Jacob shouted with a boyish enthusiasm that encouraged his Rooks to press on. They had not yet lost a single man, and they gathered around Jacob in a defensive line.

The Blighters followed suit, lining up as both sides prepared to fire a volley of bullets. The simultaneous gunshots seemed to shake the entire establishment. More beer bottles exploded around them from missed shots, but several Rooks and Blighters slumped to the floor from shots that had connected.

The pub's owner and bartender were on their knees behind the counter, hyperventilating as the chaos unfolded before them.

As exhilarating as this was for Jacob, he needed to end things quickly before they got out of hand.

Well, any more out of hand. He grinned.

Jacob became a blur of unbridled motion, letting loose a barrage of throwing knives that wedged themselves into the necks and eye sockets of his foes. The accompanying screams sent his adrenaline spiking as he skewered body after body with his hidden blade.

The Blighters not directly in the path of the Jacob-shaped battering ram spilled around the assassin and began engaging the rest of the Rooks. More gunshots were fired, resulting in more green garbed men dropping to the floor. In an instant, the tables had turned and the situation had grown very dire for the Rooks.

Jacob took a fraction of a second to glance over his shoulder to find only two of his boys remaining, and what appeared to be a random civilian, all of them surrounded by five Blighters.

"Damn it," Jacob grunted when a carriage full of even more Blighters pulled up outside the pub's entrance. They were certainly swarming the streets tonight. It dawned on Jacob that his earlier hijacking stunt may have been akin to hitting a wasp's nest with a stick. The Blighters were out for blood tonight.

The assassin threw a smoke bomb at the carriage. The explosion terrified the carriage's horses, and they bolted down the street, carrying away the vehicle along with the few Blighters who had not yet climbed out of it.

"Kill that bastard, Frye and bring me his head!" Jacob heard a booming voice shout from the fleeing carriage. It was presumably the driver, trying in vain to regain control of the panicked horses.

Jacob could see five or six shapes coughing as they struggled to wade through the smoke that was now being carried by the wind into the pub via the open door.

A Rook yelled behind him and Jacob had to make a choice. He could easily kill all of the Blighters still outside who were blinded by the smoke, but that meant letting the two remaining Rooks behind him die.

Jacob turned to help his fellow Rooks, but lost his footing in the slick pool of blood that had accumulated on the floor of the pub. He recovered before he could fall, but could not reach the Rooks in time to help them both. A Blighter had fired a bullet at point blank range, instantly ending one Rook's life, which left just a single Rook and an unfamiliar little man who had somehow gotten caught up in the fight.

This unknown man smashed a beer bottle into the back of a Blighter's head, stunning the Blighter long enough for the remaining Rook to kill him with a knife thrust. On his way to the back of the pub, Jacob wrenched his kukri from the dead Blighter he had thrown it at just moments before and tackled two more foes with both knife and hidden blade.

After getting slashed across the arm, the last Rook took down two Blighters with well-aimed gunshots. The smoke wafting in from the bomb was beginning to sting at Jacob's eyes, and he could hear the latest wave of Blighters rushing into the pub.

"Boys, I think we just might have overstayed our welcome," Jacob grimaced as he grabbed a chair and hurled it at the closest Blighter. It burst to pieces, knocking the Blighter out cold. He then grabbed another chair and threw it at a window, shattering the glass. He then ordered the last Rook and the little man to jump out. As they did so, Jacob stayed inside to unleash his anger at the remaining Blighters who were still partially incapacitated by the smoke.

"You alright, Wally? " Jacob managed to ask between heavy breaths after everything finally went still.

The lone surviving Rook, a red-headed man named Walter, nodded grimly.

"Just a scratch," he managed to say in a shaky voice and pointed to the shallow slash on his left arm.

"And you?" Jacob asked the stranger, who turned out to a wide-eyed teenager in a newsboy cap not unlike his own.

"Me? Oh, I'm f-fine!" the blond boy stammered excitedly, "That was one hell of a scrap, sir!"

"And who might you be?" Jacob asked. The boy's eyes grew even wider, and his grin was so broad it threatened to split his face in two. He seemed shocked that Jacob was even talking to him.

"Christ, Bumble," Walter sighed, which made the boy blush, "Pull yourself together would you?... Although you did hold your own in there, I'll give you that much."

"You did, didn't you…" Jacob mused, "Bumble, is it?"

"Oh! Yes! Bumble! Uh… my name's Nigel Bumble. Pleasure to meet you Mr. Frye!" Nigel could barely contain his excitement.

"Nigel here's been following some of us around for the past few days," Walter explained, "Been asking if he can join our ranks. I told him to take it up with you, and he's been mustering up the courage to do so ever since. He's an eager fellow, but has a knack for finding trouble."

Nigel smiled sheepishly.

"How old are you?" Jacob asked.

"Sixteen, sir," Nigel responded, "Could I please join, sir?"

"Hm, I don't know about that," Jacob replied, "You're a bit young, and as you've seen tonight, being a Rooks isn't as glamorous as you might think it is," Jacob tried not to sound as though that very fact was just now dawning on him as well.

But it was.

"I won't disappoint you, sir. Just give me a chance. Please…" Nigel looked as though he would shed tears if Jacob refused him, but the ringing bells of a police carriages interrupted the assassin before he could respond.

"I'll think about it, Nigel," Jacob shouted as the three of them began running away from the pub, "Head home for now, kid. And Wally, get some rest. We're just getting started."

"Okay Mr. Frye!" Nigel proclaimed happily, and the three men split off into the night.

Halfway to Henry's apartment, Jacob stopped at a meeting spot beneath a twisted tree at a small park. There was a figure standing there waiting for him- one of the two individuals he had spoken to shortly before the incident at the pub.

"Just a quick drink, eh?" The woman's voice was low and smooth as silk. She had pale skin and a black bob. She was also remarkably short, and while Jacob himself was below average height for a man, the top of her head barely reached Jacob's chin.

"Things didn't turn out quite like I was expecting," As usual, Jacob attempted to make light of a bad situation, but there was no smile on his face, "Where's your friend?" he added, referring to the man she was with earlier.

"Oh, he's around," the mysterious short woman responded.

"Right. So what have you learned?" Jacob asked. He was sure no Blighters were lurking about- he certainly couldn't sense any- but he dropped his voice anyway.

"We spotted Rexford Kaylock driving a carriage full of his goons not long ago."

Jacob quirked an eyebrow. That may very well have been Kaylock behind the reigns of the carriage he'd hit with his smoke bomb.

"You are known to him now, and he wants you and your sister dead. He's bald, has a black beard, and is quite large. Huge even."

"Everyone's huge compared to you," Jacob interrupted, smiling cheerily as the woman crossed her arms and scowled at him.

"He also has an interesting little device at his disposal," she continued, "One that you may be interested in obtaining for yourself."

"Oh? Is it sharp and shiny?" the assassin quipped.

"It shoots grappling hooks that allow Kaylock to traverse great distances in a very short amount of time. It's his greatest advantage."

"It was his greatest advantage," Jacob grinned and said his goodbyes to his informant, "Thanks for the tip, smalley,"

"Any time," the woman replied, rolling her eyes.

It was just after midnight when Jacob reached Henry's apartment, and he made an effort to enter quietly in case Evie and Henry were already asleep. He instead discovered the two of them seated on a couch on the other side of the room with their faces hardly an inch away from one another, literally moments away from kissing.

"Oh, what have we here?" Jacob asked in a scandalous tone, his eyes bright with amusement.

Evie and Henry practically flew off the couch.

"I, we were just…," Henry floundered. Evie simply glared with such intensity that Jacob could swear he felt a burning sensation on the skin between his eyes.

"It's late. What have you been up to?" Evie asked him, her tone somewhat sharp.

"Tell you what," Jacob chuckled, peeling off his jacket, "I'll let you know if you tell me what you've been up to." Jacob's eyes darted back and forth between Evie and Henry as he said it. Truth be told, he most certainly did not want to know the details of what his sister and Henry were doing in private, and he was also certain that Evie would never tell him about it. So if Evie didn't have to explain herself, then neither did Jacob.

Henry blushed at Jacob's insinuation and ran a hand through his hair.

"We've been searching for the Shroud, Jacob. Don't you ever pay attention?" Evie retorted, the annoyance clear in her voice, "And I'm sure I already know what you've been doing. We heard police bells not long ago. Lots of police bells, and I'm willing to bet you had something to do with it."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not," Jacob responded brusquely with a shrug, removing his hidden blade gauntlet.

"You need to start taking things seriously, Jacob," Evie's tone remained even, but Jacob could tell that his sister's annoyance was verging on anger as she spoke, "While you're off playing gangster and tearing London apart, do you ever stop to think about how your little games affect others?"

Jacob narrowed his eyes. He hated it when Evie took to scolding him. The fact that she had a legitimate point only made it worse. Jacob was about to leave the room, but Evie beat him to it.

"Good night, Jacob," she said tersely as she walked past him and into her room, closing the door behind her.

Jacob neither responded to nor looked at her as she left. He just stood there, tense from head to toe with his eyes downcast, his brow knotted, and his hands balled up into fists.

At a loss for words of any kind, Henry quickly brushed past Jacob, followed Evie into her room, and closed the door behind him.

Alone in Henry's living room, Jacob continued to stand there. He was thinking about what Evie had said and about what had transpired today. Jacob was convinced that his cause was a good one. The Blighters had to be stopped, but at what cost? He had all but torn that pub to the ground tonight, and more of his Rooks lay lifeless on its floor.

Jacob sighed and removed the book of pressed flowers from his jacket pocket. He tossed it onto Henry's desk then made his way into his own room. He locked the door and sat down on his messy little bed.

He was trying to decide whether he should order his Rooks to play it safer, to be more cautious from now on like Evie was implying, or to double down and play things faster and harder in order to end this blossoming gang war more quickly. It only took Jacob a few moments to make his decision.

After preparing himself for sleep, Jacob glanced at the empty half of his bed and suddenly wished he had someone to fill it the way Evie did.