Assassin's Creed: Wheel of Time

by Gwen King

Jacob and Evie find themselves on a new mission: Help Gwen King find her way back to the Twenty-First century. Rated M for strong language, attempted sexual assault, violence, drinking, and strong sexual references. (Please feel free to leave a review and I'll happily add to the story. Thanks for reading.)

1. Chapter 1

The first the I noticed when I woke up was the smell. It was a mixture of animal and human waste coupled with hints of sour alcohol and decay that caused my stomach to lurch and pushed the bitter taste of bile into my throat. It was so different than the fresh air I was used to, all I could do was wonder, Where am I?

Even though I'd yet to open my eyes, I could hear the distinct sounds of people in the near distance as well as the occasional barking dog and whinny of a horse. Trying to focus my scattered mind I noticed the very clear sound of tiny feet scurrying so close I could feel the breeze from their movement.

Rats!

I darted onto my hands and knees just in time to see the shape of a massive brown rat race into the shadows in front of me. I threw my entire body backward to distance myself from the monster rodent and collided with a brick wall. I scrambled to my feet and climbed on top of the nearest thing, which happened to be a very large but unsteady wooden crate.

After the initial shock passed, I looked around trying to figure out where I was. The yellow light from the nearest streetlamp revealed a narrow alley between two building and I quickly realized I was no longer in the courtyard of the English castle I'd been visiting.

Where the hell am I?

I tried to remember the minutes before I woke up but couldn't recall anything except entering a stereotypical archway of a castle. Even the name of the castle itself was gone, I realized in horror.

I patted myself down, checking for the few belongs I carried with me all the time. The tiny bit of cash I always kept handy, my cell phone and sunglasses were all missing. Certain I'd been attacked and robbed, all I could do was curse my bad luck.

"Oi, love!" an intimidatingly large, bald man called over to me as he stepped out of the shadows near the end of the alley. "You lost?"

A wave of relief washed over me until I noticed the two other men with him. Primal instincts screamed danger and caused me to start slowly backing away from them as quickly as possible while not drawing any more unwanted attention.

"Thank you, but I'm fine," I called back in an attempt to sound confident, but the high pitch of my voice betrayed my fear.

"She ain't from 'round 'ere, Tom," one of the man's companions said with a hint of amusement in his voice that made my skin crawl.

"That a fact?" The large one, Tom, replied. I could see a glint off the single gold tooth in the middle of his mouth when he smiled. "We should welcome her proper then. Aye, lads?"

Finally reaching the far end of the alley, I sized up the shabby wooden fence that hindered my escape out of the corner of my eye while continuing to watch the would-be rapists closing in on me. Could I scale it before one of them grabbed me, my panicked mind considered before I turned and grabbed the top of what couldn't have been more than a six-foot-high wall. Before I could try to lift myself over, Tom grabbed me around the waist and hauled me down.

"Ah, love, you ain't going anywhere," he teased, covering my mouth with his massive hand.

Sinking my teeth into the meaty flesh of his palm, I almost gagged when I tasted blood as I bit down as hard as I could.

"Fucking whore!" He snarled before letting go of my waist only to slap me hard enough across the face to send me flying to the ground.

The blow set my ears ringing as the pain seared my cheek, but I drove myself back up to my feet in an attempt to make a run for the opposite end of the backstreet. Before I got more than a couple of steps, he shoved me to the ground with bone-jarring force that knocked the air from my lungs.

"Oh, you'll pay for that," he hissed as he yanked me up by my loose ponytail and slammed me into the wall of the building next to us.

"Please no," I managed to say before he ground my cheek into the unforgiving brick.

"She's begging for it, Tom," one of the other men teased. "Lemme have a crack at it."

"When I'm done." Tom's mouth slid along my cheek, his rank breath causing another wave of bile rise in my throat. "I'm gonna enjoy this, love."

I opened my mouth to scream, but found it covered by a fingerless gloved hand softly brushing my cheek with its fingertips.

"Don't scream," a strangely familiar voice whispered. "And I'll let you go."

I nodded furiously and the hand lowered slowly. As I opened my mouth to speak, it shot back up again.

"Your word," the husky voice whispered, dropping again as the pressure against my body subsided. "Not a peep."

I nodded again as the hand rested on my shoulder, slowly turning me around to face the last person I ever expected to see in real life. His name escaped my lips with all the reverence of a prayer.

"Jacob Frye."

He cocked his eyebrow, causing his scar to rise ever so slightly. Unconsciously, I lifted my hand to touch it just to confirm what I was seeing was real and not some delusion to cope with being attacked. Before my fingers could come into contact with it, he gently caught my wrist and lowered my hand to my side.

"I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage, my dear," he said, a wary smile playing on his lips. "Have we met before?"

This can't be real, my mind screamed as I stood there staring at him. Before I could stop myself, I blurted out, "But you're not real."

He smirked. "Must've hit your head harder than I thought."

"Must have," I parroted, too shocked to say anything else. Over his shoulder, I noticed the three bodies splayed out on the ground and gasped. "Are they…"

"They're sleeping if that's easier for you to live with." He turned his back to me and headed for the street nonchalantly. "Take care, Miss."

He's leaving, I realized in horror and I raced after him. "Jacob, wait. Please."

He turned and glared at me, those green eyes inspecting and dissecting me. "Who are you?"

I stopped in front of him, my heart racing. How do I explain? What did I say? I had no clue how to explain what I couldn't even fathom. Yet, standing there, I knew I needed his help if I was going to figure this – whatever this was – out.

"I knew your father," I said, figuring a lie was more believable than the truth at that moment. "He told you could help me. Please, Jacob. I'm in serious trouble and you're the only person I know I can turn to. Will you help me?"

Once again, he raised that eyebrow and studied me. My breath hitched in my chest as I waited for some sign on his stony face he believed me. Still, he was unreadable, and terror filled me as I considered him abandoning me.

"Henry Green," I said, frantically trying to sway him. "He's your contact here in London. Evie's your sister. You're trying to stop the Templars from finding the piece of Eden hidden here."

His poker face caved in surprise. Snatching my wrist, he yanked me along behind him through the busy streets of nineteenth-century London.

"Where are we going?" I asked, causing him to tug me along faster. "Please stop, Jacob. You're hurting me."

He pulled me around to face him, slamming me into his massive chest as he gripped my shoulders and held me at arm's length, his grim expression assuring me he was deadly serious as he spoke in a hushed tone. "Another word and you'll never lie to anyone again."

I nodded slowly, petrified by the coldness I saw in his eyes. Once he seemed sure of my cooperation, we continued down the street. While his hand stayed on my wrist like a vice, our pace slowed to something of a casual walk that allowed me to catch my breath a bit.

"We're going to the train." I thought aloud as we entered the station, both awed and terrified of what lay ahead.

He glanced at me with a mixture of annoyance and shock before letting out an acknowledging grunt. Carefully, he pulled me through the evening crowds until we reached the edge of the platform. He quickly wrapped an arm around my waist, causing me to gasp as I stiffened under his touch, and jumped down to the tracks. He landed gracefully on the hardened ground next to the rails leading to the train shed. Following them into the dimly lit building, I gasped again as my eyes adjusted to the light and I was able to see the train in all its glory.

"It's so beautiful," I could only pause only for a second to admire it before he pulled me aboard. "I can't believe you won it in a gang fight."

"Spoils of war," he commented as he climbed the ladder of the last car, never releasing my hand. "Come along, miss. Time to board."

A stout man dressed in a green coat and a gold sash opened the door for us. "Evening, governor."

"A Rook," I whispered before Jacob tugged me one last time into the car. Once inside, he released me but continued even after I stopped to admire the interior.

"Watch her," I heard Jacob tell another Rook as he opened the door connecting to the rest of the train.

"Ass," I hissed once he was gone but continued to appreciate every aspect of the car he left me in, feelings of nostalgia washing over me as I remembered the different aspects of the game.

Right. This is part of a game. Not real life. I thought as my rational mind tried to find logic to what I was seeing.

I had to be dreaming. There was no way anything around me was real. It was just part of a game and I'd conjured it to deal with something that probably happened. It was the most logical explanation for everything. This was nothing but a realistic dream. It had to be.

Yet, another part of my brain argued that no dream I'd ever had been so real. Even my vivid imagination couldn't conjure something this detailed, this intricate. I may have lost my mind, but I wasn't just dreaming all this up. This was real, and I was here.

Okay. I thought. If this is real, how the hell did I get here?

I tried again to recall something between waking up in the alleyway and visiting a castle, but nothing came to me. It was like a black hole I couldn't shed any light on. Still, I knew those memories were the key to the mystery of what I was doing in nineteenth-century England; a key that may have been misplaced at the moment, but I knew they weren't lost.

I need a key to find a key. I thought in dark amusement. It's like locking a door to keep out an army.

"Now, what's this all about?" I heard another familiar voice say just as the door opened. I turned and came face-to-face with the elder Frye twin. "Evie."

She stopped speaking at the sound of her name and stared at me. Unlike Jacob, her surprise was easy to read.

"Took her from some Blighters in Whitechapel." Jacob explained as he slid in behind her to stare at me as well. "Said she knew Father. Among other things."

"Knew of him," I corrected, trying to backtrack on my already outlandish lies. "I never actually met him."

Jacob raised that damnable eyebrow and smirked. "Really now. So, he didn't tell you we'd help you?"

I lowered my eyes submissively. "No. I'm sorry. I lied about that."

"Did my dearest brother cause that?" Evie asked, jerking her chin toward my eye.

I reached up and felt the sore area I knew was already starting to bruise. "No. The Blighters did. Jacob saved me."

"Ever the gentleman." He bowed dramatically. Rising, he glared at me. "Now, shall we discuss how you know of our associated with Greenie?"

I didn't flinch as I looked directly in his eyes. "Because all three of you are part of the Brotherhood of the Assassin's Creed."

The words hung heavy in the air, threatening to choke me as surely as the Blighter Tom had. They sucked every ounce of oxygen from the railcar, stifling me with the weight of their truth. Still, I knew this was the only way I could prove myself. Carefully, I moved forward.

"So, where I'm from, a lot of people know about the Creed," I began, trying to be clear while avoiding the more outlandish details. "They're kind of just considered stories back home; just shared as entertainment and enjoyment. They're not real. At least, they aren't supposed to be until Jacob saved me tonight.

"In the interest of complete disclosure, I don't know how I got here or why, but I know from the game – I mean, stories – I can trust y'all to help me because it's kind of what y'all do. And I need help really bad getting home."

"She's either mad as a hatter or lying," Jacob said after a long, awkward silence. He turned to Evie and shrugged. "I say we drop her at Lambeth asylum and be done with it. No need to get involved either way. No one would believe her."

The idea of being locked away in a nineteenth-century mental hospital sent a chill down my spine. Searching for anything else I could say to convince them I was just some manic, I remembered the last mission I'd completed before preparing for my trip overseas.

"Spring-heel Jack," I accidentally announced.

Evie quirked her eyebrow at me much like Jacob did. "Who?"

"Wait. You haven't heard of him yet?" I smiled, happy to know I'd found a way to prove the truth. "Great. Then I can help you beat him. That is, if you'll believe me and not throw me into the crazy house."

"You're not actually listening to this?" Jacob demanded, looking shocked by her contemplative expression.

"I'm not, I promise. Once you meet up with Dickens again, you'll see I'm being totally honest." I looked at her, pleading with only my eyes. "Please, Evie. I know you don't have any reason to but trust me, but I can help."

"I suppose we'll find out. We'll start looking into this Spring-heel Jack business tomorrow." She turned to leave. "Until then, please make yourself comfortable. Good evening."

I smiled, grateful she was willing to let me prove myself. "Thank you for believing in me."

She glanced over her shoulder and nodded then left the car without another word.

"My sister may believe you," Jacob whispered as he eased around behind me. Wrapping his arm around my waist, he pulled me against his chest. Too shocked to move, I could feel the warmth of his breath on my neck as he continued, "But I'm not nearly as foolish. We'll find out what your game is soon enough."

Finding my strength, I yanked myself away and whirled around to face him. "You never struck me as a ruthless son of a bitch, but I've been wrong about men before. At any rate, you put your hands on me again and I'll rip them off."

He eyed me with steely resolve for several second before smiling, clearly impressed with my boldness. I didn't flinch as he lifted his hand in what I assumed was going to be a quick slap. Instead, he tucked a lock of my hair that had fallen out of my ponytail behind my ear.

"You have no idea how ruthless I can be, my dear." His eyes never left mine as he called over his shoulder. "The lady needs a change of clothing. See if we can find her something more presentable."

"Yes, Mr. Frye," the Rook guarding the door answered then darted into the darkness.

"I don't need anything." I glanced down at my dirty jeans and torn tank top that barely covered my unmentionables. "I'm fine as I am."

"Come now. We can't very well have our guest traipsing around in her underclothes." He smiled almost politely as he stepped back to inspect me; his eyes lingering on my chest long enough to make me bring my hand to my throat to cover myself. "Now, what shall we call you? Do you have a name or shall I just call you love?"

"It's –" I paused, realizing for the first time that if I was actually in Victorian England, would my presence cause some kind of change to the timeline. I'd seen enough sci-fi movies to know that timelines can be changed. I didn't want to mess up Jacob and Evie's if that was possible.

Unless, I considered, this was a parallel dimension. If so, what were the rules to making sure you didn't mess up another universe's order? Could I even mess up the universal order if I didn't exist? Was I an anomaly? Did I exist?

Even worse, there was still the chance that none of this was real and I was just having some kind of mental breakdown. Maybe I was just a nut and my subconscious was trying to tell me I needed to be locked up.

My head was swimming with so many what if questions, I felt overwhelmed. I just wanted to sit down in a corner and cry in frustration of not knowing the correct action.

"Now, what's all that about?" Jacob's voice interrupted my near-panicked thoughts. The looked of concern on his face brought to my senses. "No need for all that. Dry your eyes."

"I'm so sorry," I muttered, realizing I was crying. As hard as I tried to stop, the tears kept flowing. I forced a smile and added, "It's been… a long day."

"I'd imagine." Whipping a small white square from his bracer, he drabbed at my eyes. "Better now?"

I nodded as I tried to stifle a chuckle. "Not really. That's what you use on the people you assassinate."

"Yes, well." He grinned. "They're versatile tools."

"I can see that." I forced what I hoped would be a reassuring smile. "I'm so sorry to dump this on you. It's just as confusing for me as it is for you. All I want is to go home to my sad little apartment in New Orleans and deal with my crappy roommate and my crappier job. This is not what I expected when I came to England."

"You're American?"

Again, I nodded. "Born and bred. My momma was from New Orleans and my daddy was from Mississippi."

"They must miss you then."

A different pain stung my heart at his comment. I lowered my eyes. "No. They passed away years ago. It's just me and my cousin, Helena. She's the whole reason I even came to England. She won a trip and wanted me to go with her. Should've stayed as home."

He patted my clenched fists. "We'll get you home. You have my word."

I looked into his green eyes. For once, they looked less guarded and hinted at kindness. I'd always secretly wondered what they looked like close-up. Seeing them like this, resting on me completely, it was better than anything I could imagine.

"Mr. Frye," the anonymous Rook called as he entered with what looked like a bundle of green cloth and handed it to Jacob. "Best I could do, sir."

He nodded his thanks and the man disappeared again. Taking my hand, he helped me to my feet and escorted me to the adjoining car. Carefully placing the bundle on the top of the safe, he turned to leave.

"Jacob," I called as he placed his hand on the doorknob. "It's Gwen. Gwen King. I promise not to lie about anything else."

He looked over his shoulder and gave me one of his signature smirks. "A pleasure to meet you, Miss King."

Once he was gone, I flopped down on the sofa and let out an exhausted sigh. A sudden jerk startled me before the slow, steady rhythm of the train moving along the tracks began a relaxing sway that caused my mind to slow.

I closed my eyes and smiled. I knew when I opened them again, I'd be in my crappy apartment listening to my roommate blaring her even crappier techno remix of whatever was popular at that moment.

But for now, I thought happily. I'm in Assassin's Creed Syndicate.

The groggy feeling lifted from my drained mind just enough for me to notice I was sitting up leaning against a firm but forgiving surface.

Feels like a man, I thought lazily. Must be having some kind of lucid dream. Cool.

I opened my eyes and looked up at the roguishly handsome man I was pressed against and smiled.

Jacob Frye from Syndicate? Oh, yeah. I'm totally dreaming.

The fair-skinned scoundrel's eyes were closed with his lips curved just enough to remind me of his wicked little smirk that could give a nun impure thought.

I should kiss that smirk right off his smug face.

I fought back a giggle as I eased up his body until his beautifully curves lips were only a fraction of an inch from mine.

Assassin's should never sleep this sound. It could be dangerous. Time to teach this one a lesson in sneak attacks.

Brushing his lips once with mine, I leaned into him completely for a kiss.

God! This feels so damn real.

I felt a slight resistance before complete submission. Two strong arms wrapped around me, hauling me closer as the kiss deepened. His lips parted, and a broad tongue slipped passed my teeth and caressed the tip of mine. I whimpered, relishing the intrusion as my chest was crushed against his muscles. I winced as his hand slid down my back, the lingering soreness from the Blighters thwarted attack causing me to recoil slightly before I felt him lower his hand further.

It was a full three seconds before my brain registered that I shouldn't feel pain in a dream. The realization caused me to violently shove against his chest, almost throwing myself on the floor if he hadn't quickly caught me by the hand.

"Good morning to you too, darling," he teased, pulling me into his arms again. "Now, where were we?"

"Get off me!" I snapped, pressing my palms against his chest in an attempt to put some kind of distance between us.

He chuckled but didn't let go. "Why, Miss King, I'm shocked you'd take advantage of a sleeping man. However, since I'm fully awake now, please feel free to continue your assault."

"I wasn't trying to assault you. I thought I was dreaming."

"Well then," He smirked wickedly. "Shall we make your dreams come true?"

"Shut up."

Again, he chuckled but finally let me go. I fell back into the arm of the sofa, pain shooting through my back. I hissed and quickly stood in a vain attempt to work some of the stiff and soreness out.

"Where's the nice guy from last night?" I snarled, embarrassed and in pain.

"I beg your pardon, Miss King." He raised that eyebrow mockingly. "I thought it was very nice of me. You seemed to agree in the moment."

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever. Where's Evie? We need to go find Charles Dickens as soon as possible."

He finally stood and stretched, his body reminding me of what might've happened if… Damn him!

"That daft old codger. Whatever for?"

"That daft old codger is my ticket in proving to you and Evie I'm telling the truth." I glanced over, trying not to watch him pull off his shirt and slip on a clean on, and noticed the bundle of clothing still on top of the safe.

Unwrapping it, I held it up to finally look at it and confirm it was just as hideous as I imagined. The green and white lace monstrosity was far from stylish in any century with its high neckline that conjured images of being choked to death and ground length hem that only made me think of falling flat on my face with every step.

"I'm not wearing this," I announced, tossing it aside so I could focus my full glare at Jacob.

'Not wear the colors of the Rooks?" He forged insult by placing his hand over his heart. "I had hoped you'd consider it a gift, Miss King. From my heart to yours, of course."

"You can shove that –" I threw the dress at him, which he caught easily. "And the dress up your ass."

He mockingly gasped. "Such language, Miss King. I have a mind to silence it again."

I stepped back ready to defend myself as he slowly began to close the distance when Evie entered the car. I all but ran to her and said quickly, "Evie, can we go find Charles Dickens? He's holed up in some bar – er, pub."

"A wordsmith in a pub," Jacob grumbled loudly. "Shocking."

She cut her eyes at him but didn't bother responding. "Do you know which pub?"

I shook my head. "Sorry. All I know is it's in Lambeth. There's a man in a blue bowler in the doorway if that helps any."

"Jacob, if you'd be so kind as to send your Rooks to locate Mr. Dickens." She smiled reassuringly. "Once we know where he is, we'll pay him a visit and inquire about this Spring-heel Jack."

I gave her a quick nod of thanks before she glanced at Jacob, who was still holding the dress up in front of him. With all the seriousness of a pastor during Sunday morning prayer, she said, "The green really does bring out your eyes, dearest brother, but the high collar is a bit much. Don't you agree, Miss King?"

"Oh, absolutely." I turned to him, not even attempting to hide the smirk I knew countered his own. "But then, he is a bit thick above the shoulders so it might hide some of the crap."

As she turned to leave, Jacob close behind, he shoved it back in my hands with a look that warned me of the dangers I'd be in if I wasn't wearing it the next time he saw me. I made a show of rolling my eyes but opted to put the damned dress on just in case he was serious.

It was almost dusk by the time we received word from the Rooks that Mr. Dickens was at a pub in the Whitechapel area. Soon, the three of us were on our way to meet with the man I was sure would convince them I was honest.

"If you walk any slower it'll be midnight before we reach Dickens." Jacob scolded, giving me a playful shove from behind that was much too low for politeness.

Evie punched him in the shoulder when she noticed me stagger. "My brother's manners are lacking but I'm afraid he's right. We should hurry."

"Sorry." I stopped again to pull at the hem of the dress to keep it from dragging along the ground. "I'm just not used to wearing so much."

"Feel free to wear as little as you like in private," Jacob whispered just over my shoulder so softly I barely heard him. Before I could respond, he gestured to a doorway at the corner just across the street from us. There in the doorway was a man in a blue striped suit and that distinctive bowler hat I remembered from the game.

"Dickens is inside." I smiled as we waited for a carriage to pass. "C'mon."

Leading the way, I crossed the street and entered the dimly lit tavern. Just like in the game, Dickens was sitting at a long table by himself. I stopped short and watched Evie and Jacob continue toward him.

"Coming?" Jacob asked, noticing my hesitation.

I shook my head nervously. While my meeting Charles Dickens was like a teenager meeting their favorite pop star, I worried about the timeline. Would the Spring-heel Jack storyline be different now that I'd brought them to him?

"I'll just wait here," I muttered, trying to keep my voice low as not to be noticed by the master.

Jacob eyed me before finally continuing until he took his place beside Evie to speak to Dickens. I exhaled as the conversation started the same way it had in the game, thankful my presence hadn't made any changes. Still, listening to them was so comfortable in its familiarity I wanted to cry.

My favorite mission, I thought as I inched closer to take in every syllable. I wish I could meet him.

"Charlie," Jacob said once the initial conversation from the game was over. "I'd like to present Miss Gwen King from America."

My eyes widened, horrified he'd drawn me into the story. Still, my desire to meet Dickens was too strong and I felt myself move forward to close the distance.

"A pleasure to meet you, Miss King." Dickens extended his hand. "I visited your country recently and was less than impressed with your countrymen's treatment of my work."

I bowed my head politely. "I can understand, Mr. Dickens. As a fellow author, I understand the need for more comprehensive laws protecting writers. At the very least, to help us put food on the table for our families. You wouldn't ask a carpenter to build a home you can't pay for. Why should a builder of worlds be any different?"

He smiled, clearly flattered I supported his well-known stance of American publishing of his works during his lifetime. "You've position speaks volumes of your character, Miss King. You also mentioned you also follow literary pursuits."

"Mine is more of a hobbyist, sir. I would never think to put myself on the same level as you." I slipped into the chair across from him. "If I may be blunt as well, your work is really what inspired me. You have the touch of a master drawing in a reader and making them feel for your characters. I can't tell you how many times I cried or laughed alongside one of them. It sparked my passion to write. I wanted to be able to make others feel the way you made me feel. And, if I may also say, thank you for all your works. You changed my life."

"My dear Miss King, you truly flatter me." He sat down across from me with a smile that beamed. "Would you care to join me in a drink? I've been working on a new story that may interest you."

Over the next several hours, I sat in that barely lit pub and talked to Charles Dickens about everything from his current works to religion to the paranormal. I was allowed to pick the brain of one of the greatest novelists of all time, have him critique one of my own concepts, and provided timeless feedback on being a writer. In short, it was a dream come true I'd cherish for the rest of my life. By the time the lamps were lit, I'd not only met one of my heroes but made a friend.

"I must be heading home now, Miss King," he said at last when it seemed like we'd talked about everything under the sun. "But I do hope you'll do me the honor of calling upon me for dinner one evening. I'd enjoy introducing you to some of our fellow artists and having lively discussions like this."

"Mr. Dickens, I'd love to." When I rose and extended my hand to say goodbye, he bowed and placed a polite kiss on the back. "Thank you, sir."

"No, Miss King, it's I who should be thanking you. Until we meet again."

As he left, I sank back into my chair and watched him walk away, a contented sigh escaping as I basked in complete fulfillment.

"Miss King, you're positively flush." Jacob loudly placed a pint in front of me then filled Dickens seat, that damned smirk directly in my line of sight. "Perhaps this morning's advances really were you dreaming about Charlie."

I rolled my eyes. "Jealous?"

"Bored is the word you're looking for." He leaned back and took a swallow from his pint. "I considered leaving when Evie did, but as I recall your suitor did ask for our help with this Spring-heel Jack business."

I stared down into the dark liquid in front of me, annoyed for not noticing Evie left. "That was rude of me. I should apologize to her when we get back to the train."

"Yes, you should." He took another deep drink. "Now, where should we begin our search for Jack?"

I looked up at him. "We?"

"Of course." Downing another swallow, he added. "A good trap needs the right bait to be successful."

"So, you want me to be the bait?" I shook my head. "No, thank you."
"Then consider it payment for my assistance." He finished his drink and stood. "Now, shall we hunt the devil?"

The way he put it made it almost seem exciting. While I was never one for adventures, I couldn't resist. Working with Jacob Frye to complete the Spring-heel Jack mission? How could I say no?

"All right. Let's go."

Two hours later, with the damp chill of the London fog soaking into my bones while I nervously crisscrossed the nearby streets, being on a mission with Jacob Frye had all the appeal of a lobotomy.

"Dammit," I grumbled as I walked passed a group of hooligans making catcalls. "How the hell did I get myself into this?"

Jacob's plan made sense when he explained it: an unaccompanied lady would draw Jack out. Not expecting her to be watched from the rooftops, Jacob would have the element of surprise when Jack showed up. It was brilliantly simple: as long as Jack took the bait – me – the trap could be sprung.

The only problem was Jack wasn't just not taking the bait, he was completely ignoring it. Roaming around the street in an ankle length dress and cowboy boots (the only part of my personal wardrobe I couldn't bear to part with) I was exhausted, annoyed, and a little insulted I hadn't made a more enticing lure.

Finding a darkened doorway, I paused and attempted to adjust my hem. Not that there was anything to be done with it, but it gave me a chance to rest my aching feet and morn my lack of charm.

"You have all the appeal of a dead cat," the shadows mocked, causing me to jump. Jacob stepped forward and for a second the image of a dark superhero popped into my mind when I noticed his hood pulled down over his eyes.

"It's hard to be seductive when your feet are throbbing." I glanced over at him before scanning the streets again. "Any luck?"

"Not so much as a whisper." I felt his fingers graze my shoulder as he brushed aside a stray hair. "Perhaps we should try again tomorrow night?"

I shook my head. "No. It's going to be tonight. I just know it."

"And if you're wrong?"

Thinking about my poor feet begging me to kick off my boots, I teased. "When you see I'm right, you're going to get down on your knees and kiss my feet. Better yet, I'll just take a foot rub."

"A wager then?" He thought for a moment. "All right, but when you lose I'd prefer something much more appealing than your feet."

"Ass," I hissed.

He smiled. "Excellent suggestion, my dear Miss King."

When I turned to tell him off for twisting my words, he was already ascending the building. I marveled at how graceful such a formidable man could be. It struck me how his movements, though sublimely masculine, maintained an uncharacteristic beauty usually reserved for dancers. Even in real life, Jacob was a masterfully done work of art I couldn't take my eyes off.

The scream came from less than a block away from where I stood to watch Jacob. High pitched and feminine, I knew Jack had found his first target of the evening. Without a second thought, I ran in the direction it came, only catching a sweeping glance of Jacob's shadow before he passed me. I slowed down and watched him leap effortlessly from rooftop to rooftop before I came to a complete stop. Knowing he'd speak to the victim before continuing pursuit, I waited for him to double back to me.

I heard the faint sound of something moving and turned just as a flash of white moved in my peripheral vision. An instant later, I was grabbed by a gloved hand that spun me around and brought me face-to-face with the infamous Spring-heel Jack.

Honestly, meeting him was a little underwhelming. Dressed in a plaster red devil mask complete with forehead horns, the lanky man reminded me of a flasher in his long black trench coat and what looked like a white diving suit that ended in a very ordinary pair of riding boots. If this was what made Victorian women fall apart, I worried about their fortitude in every other aspect of life because I couldn't help but laugh.

He raised his hand above his head as let out a shrill cackle I assumed was meant to terrify me before he slashed at the front of my dress then tried to kiss me.

When he released my arm, I swung hard and connected with the pointed nose of the mask. The cheap thing crumbled under the force, causing him to clutch his actual nose and stagger back several steps.

"Bloody hell!" He groaned, sounding more like a pissed off man than a devil. He pulled a glass bulb out of his coat and threw it on the ground; a cloud of rancid smelling smoke enveloped us when it shattered.

Choking, I tried to find my way out of the cloud, but the thick gas was blinding. As it started to dissipate, I felt someone grab me again. Assuming it was Jack, I reared back for another punch hoping to cause even more damage.

"Hold now, love," I heard Jacob say, catching my fist in midair. "I haven't done anything for that yet."

Ignoring his comment, I grabbed his hand and pulled him in the direction Jack went. "C'mon. We have to follow him."

"Why the rush?" He gestured to the ground. "When he politely left us a trail of breadcrumbs to follow."

I could barely make out dark droplets on the ground trailing into the distance, but they seemed to be a beacon to Jacob leading us right to Jack. Within minutes, we were standing across the street from his hideout. Along the way, Jacob had seen several Rooks and asked them to join us. Some even went so far as to gather other members of the gang until we numbered almost twenty.

"News travels fast," he commented with his usual smirk. "Ready to have a little fun?"

I couldn't help but smile as I nodded while the Rooks added affirmations. "Let's do this."

Jacob winked and started walking casually toward the hideout where several Blighters milled around outside. He stepped up to the largest one and smiled.

"Lovely evening for a stroll. Aye, lads?" He stopped and looked up at the much larger man. "Mind the grease?"

The man straightened his shoulders, adding a couple of inches to his already massive form. He looked down as Jacob and demanded, "Says who?"

Jacob didn't flinch. "The Rooks."

I couldn't tell which side the first shot came from, but it was like the start of a race that broke open the gates of hell itself. Fists, knives and even sticks began flying around me. I dropped to my hand and knees to keep from being hit as the fusion of violence from both sides closed in around me. Trying to find the outside edge, I crawled along until the first man fell in front of me, his face battered and bloodied.

I jumped to my feet in time to see Jacob pummeling the Blighter he'd confronted. Like in a movie, he held the man's collar and continually drove his bare fist into the other man's face until it was unrecognizable.

I can only imagine the look of sheer horror on my face when our eyes met because he dropped the other man and raced over to me. Grabbing me by the arm, he shoved a path through the mob for us.

"Are you all right?" He demanded, his hands cupping my cheeks to examine me.

I nodded, but my insides shook with fear. I'd never seen so much violence and destruction in real life before. It was hard to overemphasize the true devastation of it as men attacked and hurt each other.

"Whoever said video game violence is desensitizing is a fucking idiot," I muttered, trying to pull myself together and focus on the mission. Finally centered, I pointed to the building. "Next to the wall over there is a sewer well. That's where Jack's hiding."

Leading the way, Jacob skirted the warzone that still raged headed in the direction I'd given. In no time, he found the opening.

"There's a ladder," I tried to explain, but he was already starting down before I could get the words out. "Well, all right then."

I followed him, the damned dress once again hindering me as it fell across the steps, causing me to slip several times. Finally gone with it, I grabbed the waist and ripped the skirt away and threw it to the ground. In nothing but a pair of white bloomers and a ripped dress bodice, I descended the steps.

At the bottom, the cavern was well lit by torches and we could see the rounded stone walls leading down a long corridor. As I started down the path, Jacob pulled me back to the ladder.

"Wait here." He ordered in a whisper. "If anyone comes out, go back up."

"What if somebody comes down?"

He yanked a single blade dagger from his waist pouch and handed it to me handle first. "Use the element of surprise and don't hesitate. Gwen, these men will kill you."

I swallowed the lump in my throat but nodded as he slipped his hood over his head. Before he could leave, I grabbed his hand.

"I'm scared."

He smiled. "I'll keep you safe, love. I promise."

Then he disappeared into the shadows, I backed into the corner and hunkered down, prepared to defend myself but praying I wouldn't have to. Within minutes, an explosion rocked the entire structure, almost sending me up the ladder. Only seconds after that, Jacob came running full speed toward me. Though I couldn't hear him from the rumbling, I could see his lips form a single word.

"Run!"

Before I was even able to turn fully and start climbing, he was shoving me up at breakneck speed. I dove through the top and collapsed on the ground only to have him land right on top of me, knocking the wind out of my lungs.

"My dear Gwen," he said between pants as he grinned down. "Your lack of self-control is unseemly, but not unappreciated."

I rolled him off me and got up. The hole glowed bright yellow from the fires below, reminding me even more of hell itself. He chuckled as he also stood and joined me.

"Is Jack…?" I couldn't finish.

"He won't be troubling the fine ladies of London anymore," he answered, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "You're safe."

Remembering the battle being waged so we could catch Jack, I turned to where they had been fighting. "The Rooks!"
He jerked his chin in the same direction, which now lay completely deserted. "Arrested or absconded. We'll sort them out in the morning. For now, we should head home."

"Home," I repeated, a pang of regret causing my heart to ache. "Easier said than done."

"Soon enough, Miss King." He removed his overcoat and wrapped it around me. "To keep out the chill, of course."

"Of course." I managed a tiny smile as I slipped my arms into the sleeves, strangely comforted by his scent surrounding me. "Thank you."

Offering me his arm, I looped mine over his and allowed him to lead us slowly through the streets until we reached a station to wait for the ever-moving train. Once inside, he quickly found us a bench and we sat in silence while we waited. After only a moment, he laid his arm across the back and softly ran his fingers along my neck, which helped to soothe my stressed mind.

"Jacob?" I finally said when I was comfortable to talk.

"Hmm?"

"Do you think a person could –" I paused, trying to find the right words before deciding to change direction completely. "Do you believe in magic?"

"Only the magic of a good thief." He teased.

I turned and glared at him but pushed on. "I'm serious. Do you think there's real magic in the world?"

He stared across the empty tracks. "No."

I leaned back again and sighed, feeling defeated. "I told you I wouldn't lie to you so here goes. I don't really belong here. I told you before, but I think it has something to do with magic. Or maybe some kind of technology we don't understand yet. Either way, that's how I got here. Some weird magical technology. I need to find it so I can go home."

He turned to look at me finally, his face etched with skepticism. "And where do we find this magical technology?"

"A castle. I think." I thought for a moment. "No. I'm sure it was a castle. I just don't remember which one."

"Well, when you remember, we'll find your magical technology." He stood as the train pulled into the station. "Time to board, Miss King."

As he helped me aboard, I knew he was being patronizing. Still, there was some comfort in knowing he'd be there when I when I started to put the pieces of my lost memories together. At least, I hope he would be.

"How goes the hunt for Spring-heel Jack?" Evie asked once we were in the main car again.

Jacob flopped down on the sofa gracelessly. "No longer a concern."

"So, your information was not only correct but useful then?" When Jacob nodded, she smiled at me. "We're in your debt, Gwen. You said you needed assistance getting back to America, correct?"

I smiled back, pride welling up in my chest. "Not exactly back to America, but back where I belong. I'd be happy to help in any way I can if you'll help me get home."

"I believe that can be arranged," Jacob said. "But we do have other concerns to address. The most important being a good night's sleep."

"Agreed." Evie said, her eyes widening as I slipped out of Jacob's overcoat. "First being another change of clothes for you, Gwen."

"I don't know." Jacob ran his eyes up and down me with a mischievous grin that caused my cheeks to flush. "I'm quite pleased with the current one."

Evie and I both shot him a dirty look that only caused his smile to widen. Later, she provided me with one of Agnes's nightgowns for the evening, which was closer to dawn. After a quick wash down in a basin of cold water and a long time mourning my shower, I returned to the main car ready to settle down for a well-deserved sleep. I was fantasizing about long hours with nothing but the softness underneath me when I noticed Jacob hadn't left yet.

"Miss King," he all but growled as he moved through the room dimming the lamps until only the one behind the sofa remained on. "I was afraid you'd be spending the night in Evie's car."

"I wasn't planning on staying in nobody's car." I folded my arms across my chest. "If you want, I'll go someplace else."

"That'd be bad manners on my part." His eyes drifted down my oversized gown as he slipped out of the dirty shirt, letting it fall to the floor. "Please, make yourself comfortable. I won't be a moment."

"I'm not sleeping with you again," I said before realizing how it sounded. "I mean, I'm not going to stay in the same car so just go away."

He faked a frown. "Miss King, your mind is truly obscene. I have no intention of doing anything except pay my debt."

"There's no debt. I'm going to sleep. Good night." I sat down and tried to ignore him while I started to pull off my boots, which I'd worn while traveling between cars. Feeling him standing over me watching my every move, I finally stopped and demanded, "What?"

"In case you've forgotten, the wager was a massage." He knelt in from of me and took my still booted foot in his hand. "If I lost, that is."

I tried to yank my foot out of his hand, but he held firm. Too exhausted to fight him, I resorted to begging. "Jacob, please stop. You don't have to."

"I'm nothing if not a man of my word." Slowly, he eased my boots off. "Now, tell me about your home."

"It's just a city like London." I watched in awe as he peeled away my thick white sock, my pulse speeding up. Focusing on the sound of my own voice rather than his actions, I added, "but different."

He gently placed my naked foot on the floor and lifted the other boot. "How so?"

"It's just –" I paused as he slid it off in a slow, seductive movement. "Different."

He chuckled softly as he gripped the second sock and whipped it off. "You have a knack for descriptions, Miss King."

"Jacob –" I started only to have the words cut short when his skilled fingers began working the ball of my foot.

"You were saying?" He reached into a small pot of ointment I hadn't noticed before. Gathering a glob on his fingertips, he slathered it onto my foot. "You like that?"

"Oh, God yes." I moaned as the salve warmed under his touch as he worked it over my heel, draining the soreness away with every stroke. "Where did you learn that?"

"I've acquired quite a few skills I'd be happy to share given the opportunity." His hand crept up my foot to my ankle. "That is if you're interested."

My head lulled back as I closed my eyes, taking in the pleasure of his touch. "You keep that up and you could take me into just about anything."

His fingers danced from my ankle to my calf. "Anything?"

"Almost anything." I corrected, feeling a wave of drowsiness pushing my brain toward sleep. "I got to be honest, you're making me weak."

"So weak you'd be willing to give up your accomplices?"

My eyes snapped open. "Wait. What?"

"Of course, if you knew Dickens was onto them, you may have been willing to give them up to save your own neck." His nonchalant tone made my skin crawl. "Still, knowing Charlie would come to us was a stroke of genius. Well played, Miss King."

I was flabbergasted. Even after I'd risked my own life going to hunt down Jack with him, he still didn't believe me. Shocked, I could only ask dumbly, "So you don't believe me?"

"Oh no, Gwen. I believe you were brought here against your will and you need a way home. As for the rest…" He let go of my leg. My foot fell to the floor with a thug. "Not in the slightest."

My eyes welled up. "But I need your help. I really do."

He stood and stared down at me. "And you have it. Passage back to America on the next ship leaving London."

"But I can't go to America." Panic exploded in my chest. I couldn't leave England without first finding out how to get home – my home. "Please, don't send me away. I really do need your help."

"I'm afraid you need more help than any of us can give." He turned and headed for the door. "Good night, Miss King. Pleasant dreams."

"Jacob, please!" I called desperately one more time before the door slammed shut behind him.

Tears poured down my cheeks as I vainly attempted to will away the nightmare I found myself in. I needed to wake up before he sent me to American, but I knew I was only kidding myself. This wasn't a dream and I needed to find my way back to my own time. If he put me on a boat to the other side of the world, there no chance I'd find my way home again. My instincts told me the only way home was there in England.

Since Jacob wasn't going to help me, I needed to stop relying on others to save me and start finding a way to save myself. Drawing on the last of my inner strength, I wiped away my tears with a newfound determination. I promised myself I wouldn't cry again until I was back where I belong and then, and only then, would I cry tears of joy.

"All right, Gwen-girl," I ordered myself. "Time to put on your big girl panties and find a way home."

I gently tapped on the windowpane separating me from the dark-haired Rook standing guard just outside the door. When our eyes met, I smiled as innocently as I could and asked, "Excuse me. Could you come in here please?"

He looked unsure as he moved closer to the door and stared at me, not speaking. Though not much taller than me, I still tried to make myself look smaller by slumping my shoulder to appear non-threatening. I wanted him to think of me as just a helpless woman even if that wasn't my plan.

"I was hoping you would help me," I cooed as I lowered my eyes demurely.

He eyed me suspiciously. "What is it?"

"I think there's a mouse under the sofa." Pouting a little for effect, I continued. "I keep hearing scratching every time I lay down. Could you come in and kill it for me, please?"

"Mr. Frye said no one in or out except him." He turned away. "Good night, Miss."

I whimpered pathetically. "Oh, please. I'm so scared. I can't stand mice. Besides, what would Mr. Frye say if I got bit while I was sleeping them got sick and died?"

He huffed, causing him muttonchops to wiggle under his nose in what would've been comical if I hadn't been trying to convince him I was scared. "Nobody dies from a mouse bite."

"That's not true. My cousin got bit in his sleep. The next day, he woke up feeling weak and in two days he died. The family wouldn't even have known if my aunt hadn't noticed the little scratch on his foot." I poked my bottom lip out and batter by eyelashes. "Please. I promise not to be any more trouble if you'll just come in and kill it."

He groaned as he reached into his pocket and took out the key. "If it'll shut you up."

"Thank you so much." I smiled at him as he unlocked the door and stepped inside. "You're my hero, Mr…"

He just grunted. He stood in front of the door and listened for a moment as if he could hear anything. As he stepped into the car several feet, I tried to ease around behind him to slip through the opening but he kept me in his line of sight at all times.

So much for just running, I thought, adjusting my plan.

"I don't hear anything," he grumbled, never moving from his spot in front of the door.

"I said it was under the sofa." I pointed, but when he didn't move I rolled my eyes and sighed. "Fine. I'll look."

I got down on my hands and knees, carefully concealing my boots under the oversized nightgown and pretended to search. After what I thought was enough time, I leaped off the floor and ran behind him. Clutching the back of his shirt, I pointed under the sofa.

"He's there!" I all but screamed in his ear. "Quick! Kill him."

The Rook dropped down in front of it and began searching where I'd been. He scanned back and forth before saying, "I don't see anything."

"He's against the wall." I pointed frantically, trying to keep him looking down. Looking around, I noticed a heavy marble paperweight on Evie's desk and grabbed it. Raising it high above my head, I added, "Please kill him."

"There's nothing there."

As he started to get up, I brought it down on his head as hard as I could. Unfortunately, it was that exact moment when he chose to look up to check on me again. The weight connected with his forehead, leaving a deep gash. However, unlike how the movies portray, he was very much conscience.

"Fucking whore!" He yelled, throwing his hand over the wound in an attempt to keep the blood from oozing into his eye.

"Sorry."

Before he could erect himself completely, I bolted out the open door. He yelled for help just as I stopped cold before the coupling connecting our car to the one behind it. I only had a second to gauge the safety of leaping from a moving train before I jumped. Thankfully, we'd been moving just faster than a crawl. I landed on the rocks next to the tracks knees first before leaping up to my feet and running at full speed. I didn't even glance back until I was several blocks away. Only after I was too winded to continue did I stop and listen for pursuers.

Hearing only the soft stirrings of predawn London, I took my surrounding. I was hopelessly lost in the slums of the city, but I tried to be optimistic by reminding myself that I was free and there was no way Jacob could find me and send me back to the U.S. Now, I could work on getting home all by myself. It was reassuring thought as exhaustion and hunger waged war in me once the adrenaline rushed passed. Too tired to look food, I found myself in another alley just as the skies over England started to turn a dull gray.

"Home sweet home," I joked to myself as I made a comfortable spot to sleep in the trash.

Shooing away several rats, I sat down and pulled my knees to my chest for a good day's sleep. I realized I needed to come up with a plan if I was going to find a way home. I couldn't very well run around the whole of England in a nightgown and a pair of cowboy boots. I was going to need two things in the very near future: clothes and money. Once I had those, I'd be able to make my way to Bodiam Castle.

Bodiam Castle! My mind screamed. That's where I was when it happened.

As fatigue crept over my brain, I fought to remember the same of the castle that brought me to Victorian England and prayed it'd be my way home again.

"C'mon, Gwen!" I remembered Helena, my cousin, saying as she tried to convince me. "Two weeks all-expenses-paid trip to England. With private tours of the Tower of London, Leeds Castle, Hampton Court, and like a billion other places. Two authentic pub crawls and a spa day at the hotel and ending with a daytime picnic on the grounds of the historic Bodiam Castle. All paid for. It's the trip of a lifetime."

I looked up from my work computer at my blond bombshell cousin who'd been my closest friend since my parents died. "I know, I know. I really want to go, but I don't have the time off work to do it."

"See, I knew you were going to say that." She opened the much too tiny designer purse and handed me a piece of paper. "And I gotcha covered."

I read over it and laughed. "I need more than a doctor's excuse to take two weeks off work."

She yanked the sheet from my hand. "I know, stupid. This is just an example. Gary told me he'd fill out whatever paperwork your stupid job needs so you can go. The only thing he won't do is fill out insurance paperwork. Something about it being a crime or something. I don't remember."

"Falsifying documents is a crime too. It's called fraud. And isn't Gary a plastic surgeon?" I smiled at her. "What's he going to say, I need emergency liposuction?"

"Well, you do need it." She winked. "Just consider it a mental health leave. C'mon. You've been working your ass off since your mom and dad passed. Don't you deserve to have some fun too?"

The thought of my lost parents stung, but it did make me think. While I knew it was reckless and stupid, I also knew mom and dad would want me to go. They knew I'd always wanted to go to Europe and immerse myself in the old cultures. As practical as they were, they knew once-in-a-lifetime was really once in a lifetime.

"Fine." I smiled at her, excited and scared to death. "Book it."

When I woke from my memory, my body screamed from sleeping sitting hunched over. Opening my eyes to Nineteenth-Century England's world-class slums, I was happy to see I'd been left alone for once and not in immediate danger of being raped, murdered, or both.

While I hated the thought of being completely on my own, I knew it was better this way. Jacob seemed determined to send me to America and, while I would've appreciated any help I got from them, knew I couldn't be sent back to a country I only knew from history books.

Seeing as how I'd left on my own, I reasoned the Frye twins would have very little reason to try and hunt me down. He'd been right that no one would believe a woman who claimed to know about secret organizations battling it out for the souls of humanity. Throw in the idea that she came from an alternative future and you had the makings of a perfect inmate for Lambeth Asylum. No, I knew I was on my own to find my way home. Even better, I now knew where I needed to start looking.

Getting up from my makeshift bed, I stretched and tried to work out the stiffness in my back. Reaching above my head, my fingers brushed fabric and I looked up to see a worn pair of trousers and a white shirt hanging low from a second story window above me. With the help of a couple of well-placed crates, I was able to steal them from the line.

I slipped them on over my tattered nightgown and rushed from the alleyway, chastising myself for stealing while justifying it due to need. Still, guilt ate at me as I found myself adjusting myself in a graveyard and I vowed that I'd earn anything else I needed before I resorted to stealing again. I may be in need, but I also had my pride.

As I roamed freely through the boroughs, I tried to consider what options I had available. I had some skills, but nothing that was marketable in Victoria times. Oh, I could cook and clean, but when I watched the hard-working women and men straining to complete tasks I took for granted in my time, I realized I wouldn't know where to begin. I'd need to learn how to cook on stoves that didn't run off gas or electricity if I was going to be a cook. I could teach reading and writing, but even my English wasn't up to par to be considered for teaching. No, my options in professions were limited.

I then considered finding an ally to help me. I'd made a good impression on Charles Dickens, but because of his association with the Frye twins, I didn't think he would help me. Hadn't I been the one Jacob accused of helping Spring-heel Jack? Surely, he'd tell Dickens about it.

I considered going to the Blighters and talking to them about joining their gang, but that notion seemed as ridiculous as telling them the truth about who I was. How could I prove I wasn't just a spy for the Frye twins? The same for going to the Templars. I'd be dead before I even got a chance to tell them I was from another time. Besides, I may have left them, but the thought of doing anything that could get Evie hurt was enough to keep me far away from their enemies.

Or Jacob, I thought before angrily pushing it to the back of my mind.

As dusk began to settle in, I noticed the prostitutes beginning to emerge for their nightly business. While most didn't look overly obvious, there was something about the way they carried themselves that made it clear what they were doing. Slowly, as the light faded into darkness, I noticed men beginning the speak to them and realized there was a way for an uneducated, unattached woman to make money quickly and easily. Even though the idea made me feel dirty, I knew it was the only option I had open to me. If I wanted to survive, I was going into the world's oldest profession.

The idea held all the appeal of the Blighters trying to rape me, but I couldn't see anything else I could do. It wasn't like I was a virgin. I'd been with men (a man, actually) and I knew what it was like. What was the difference?

It's just sex, I repeated in my head as I found a pub where several ladies stood outside who looked like they were seeking employment as well. Steeling my resolve, I walked in with my head held high and my stomach in knots.

The smoke-filled room burned my eyes as I scanned it for anyone who looked aroused. Not that I really knew what I was looking for, but I took my lead from some of the other prostitutes who'd already found willing partners and were making their way to other places to consummate their arrangement. I tried to look like a willing product and entice the consumer to me.

After only a few minutes, I catch a short man with a wooly black beard and portly build glance over at me approvingly. I smiled over at him and he smiled back, which I took to mean I was welcome. Slowly, I made my way over the table where he and three other men were playing cards.

"Howdy, boys," I said in my best Southern drawl so many Englishmen had commented on since my arrival in the country as I came to stand over them. "Whatcha'll playin'?"

The bearded man met my eyes with a pair of red-rimmed brown ones and grinned. As he opened his mouth to speak, his companion nudged him.

"Oi, George, it's your turn."

My mark frowned and looked down at the cards in his hand. Not to be deterred, I leaned forward to look as well, allowing my shirt to fall open just enough to peak his interest.

"Why, are y'all playing cribbage?" I eased closer to George, his companions taking no note of me. "I ain't never played. Y'all mind if I watch for a spell?"

After his hand was over, George grabbed a chair from a neighboring table and set it next to himself before offering it to me with a smile.

"Why, thank you kindly." I eased down into it, forced to brush against him due to the nearness of it.

When he won the next hand, I applauded him. He rubbed my knee as he said in a nasally voice, "You must be good luck, my dear Miss…?"

"Gwen." I took the free hand he offered, disgusted by its clamminess. "Gwen King."

"A pleasure, Miss King." He didn't let go of my hand for several seconds as he stared down at my chest. "George Goodwell."

"Please, Mr. Goodwell. It's just Gwen." I slowly pulled my hand from his. "I hope we can be friendly like that, George."

"Indeed, Gwen." His eyes didn't move from my breasts as he spoke. "I'd like that very much."

Over the next few hours, I watched him play cribbage with the other men. I complimented him on his skills when he won, touched his arm when he made a joke, and even let him feel up my leg a bit. Still, George was caught up in his game and I wondered if I'd misread the signals. I was just about to give up and move on to another man I'd made eye contact with when the table suddenly shook.

"Bloody cheat!" One of the men at the table yelled at George when he'd won yet another hand. "I saw ya palm that card, I did. I'll blow ya brains out, ya dirty bastard."

The other man yanked a derringer from his breast pocket and aimed it at George's head. George scrambled up from the table, pushing me in the way of the gun in the process of trying to get away. I stared down the barrel frozen terror. Knowing I was going to die, I closed my eyes and prayed.

"No need for all that, gents," I heard that damnable voice I knew all too well say. Opening my eyes again, I saw him standing next to the would-be murder, his hand over the barrel as he eased it down. "We're all friends here."

"Fucking Frye," I exhaled.

As if hearing his name, he turned to me. While his expression was confidently calm as he took away the other man's gun, he all but snarled when our eyes met. Not to be intimidated, I glared back at him.

"Mr. Frye," the gunman said, his voice shaking a little. Coming to his senses, he pointed his free hand at George. "That bastard cheated us."

George, who looked just as stunned to see Jacob, ran for the door.

"Hold on now, lads," Jacob ordered before the other men could follow him. "He'll get what's coming to him."

"But he took our money," one of the other men whined.

Jacob reached into his pocket and handed over a fistful of pound notes. Handing them over to the gunman, he smiled. "That should cover it. Drinks on me."

A chorus of thank you made him smile, but when he looked at me again his scowl returned and for a second I wished I'd followed George. He grabbed my upper arm and pulled me to a table in the corner. Pushing me down into a chair, he yanked another around in front, trapping me between the two of them. With nowhere to go, I sat there glaring at him.

"You left without saying goodbye," he said in an annoyed whisper.

I folded my arms across my chest. "Goodbye."

"That's not what I meant." His eyes were burned into me, forcing me to look away. "Why did you –"

"I'm hungry," I said, cutting him off. "I'm tired because I slept in an alley last night and I was about to sleep with a thief for money. By the way, something I'd never do under any circumstances. All that because I can not go to the States. So, get the hell outta my face so I can find a way to get to Bodiam Castle."

"Why? What's at Bodiam Castle?"

I shrugged. "I don't know yet."

He got up and for a second I thought he'd left until he returned with a bowl and a loaf of bread. Setting them in front of me, he sat down again. Jerking his head at the bowl, he ordered, "Eat then tell me what's at Bodiam Castle."

I ripped off a piece of bread and soaked it in the bowl of what appeared to be stew. Popping it into my mouth, I was in ecstasy. Throwing all manners out the window, I gobbled it down with abandon. After quickly finishing it and filling my stomach, I slowed down and snacked on the remains of the bread.

"I already told you," I said between mouthfuls. "I don't know, but that's where the thing I need to find to go home is."

"Your magical technology. Of course." He poured two mugs from a pitcher a server brought over. "How will you know when you find it?"

"I don't know." I took a deep drink from the mug he offered, its thick contents barely washing down my meal. "That's horrible."

He chuckled. "I can't leave London yet. The Blighters have cargo that belongs to an associate. He's asked me to retrieve it."

"Ned Wynert." I smiled when he looked surprised. "I know all about your business arrangement with Ned. And I'm not asking you to come with me. I can go on my own."

His eyes darted to mine and I almost thought I saw something akin to fear. "No. You're safer with me than on your own."

"I can take care of myself."

"And how well's that working?" He leaned on the table, challenging me. "With nearly being killed and all."

Begrudgingly I had to admit he had a point. Still, I wasn't going to be a charity case for Jacob Frye. "All right. I'll hang around, but I'm not letting you play knight in shining armor and treat me like some damsel in distress. I need to earn my keep."

"How do you plan on going about that?" He looked me over. "I have no intention of paying for something I can get for free."

I chugged down the rest of my drink and sneered at him. "That's something I'd never do you for, but I can work for you as a Rook."

"Piss poor Rook if ever there was one." He grinned, though, clearly impressed. "I'll think about it."

"Well, if you're going to think about, I'm going to work on trying to find other ways to get what I need. Maybe make a few friends or something." I stood and looked around. "I can be charming when I need to be."

"No doubt of that, Miss King." As I pushed passed him, he caught my hand and pulled me to his side. "Any idea how you intended to make friends? Hopefully, not the same way you did with Georgie-boy."

"Lord no." I smiled down at him. "This may shock you, Mr. Frye, but some people actually enjoy getting to know me."

I walked over to a group of men playing darts. I could feel Jacob watching me as I smiled and introduced myself. After a few minutes, they invited me to join them and over the next several hours we played while drinking and laughing; becoming fast friends.

Once in a while, I'd glance over my shoulder and see him looking at me with an expression of intrigue with my ability to adapt to group and annoyance when I continued without acknowledging him. I wondered what he was thinking when I felt someone graze my lower back. I caught him sit up a little straighter but made no more to come over.

"C'mon, love," the one who'd touched me, a happy looking wiry man named Nathaniel, called to me as he cleared the board. "How's about a wager?"

"I don't think so." I playfully pushed him when he came up to hand me the darts, too close for comfort. "I get in trouble when I gamble."

"Oi, Gwen!" Hammy, one of the other men I'd been playing with, chimed in. "You can take 'im."

I laughed. "But I don't have any money to bet."

"Ah, but you got other things I'd like. How's about a kiss to the winner?" Nathaniel's fingertips brushed my arm. "Whaddya say?"

I shook my head. "But I don't want a kiss."

"Two shillings if Gwen wins," Hammy offered.

I looked Nathaniel over, certain from his previous games and the amount of alcohol he'd drank I would beat him. "Make it sixpence and you're on."

I had no idea how much I'd demanded, but hoped it was more than the shillings, which I wrongly assumed were closer to a penny. Nathaniel looked a little alarmed by my demand but finally handed over the money to Hammy. Sure enough, after an easy game, I was six pence wealthier.

"Pints on me," I said to my companions. Slipping to the bar, I handed the money to the keep and quietly asked, "Do you rent rooms?"

"Upstairs," she said, handing me three pints and what I assumed was my change.

"Will that be enough to get one tonight?" I looked down to indicate the money she's placed between us.

She smiled, tucking it into her apron. "You'll be wanting breakfast too, Miss?"

I nodded my thanks as she handed over a key to a room upstairs and explained where it was; pleased something was finally going right. Dropping the key into my pocket, I turned around and almost ran into Jacob's chest.

"Don't sneak up on me," I snapped, surprised by his closeness. When our eyes met, I could've sworn I saw concern. "What?"

"You're not coming back to the train tonight?"

"No. I have a room now." I patted the key in my pocket. "I told you I'll be fine. You don't have to hover over me like a mother hen."

"Gwen, it's not safe for a lady to stay alone." I followed his eyes when he glanced over his shoulder and noticed Nathaniel looking in our direction. "Come back to the train."

"Jacob, I'm fine." Trying to reassure him, I patted his hand. "If you're tired, go on. I'll see you tomorrow."

He sighed and shook his head but left anyway. After another hour, I said goodnight to my new friends and headed upstairs for my well-earned night's sleep. As soon as I was locked inside my room, I flopped down on the bed and laughed. Liquor-fueled euphoria filled me with happiness and made me feel invincible. I'd made money without selling my body, had a place to lay my head for a good night's sleep, and Jacob wanted me to come back.

Whoa! Where'd that come from? I thought as someone knocked on my door. I smiled to myself, thinking of Jacob begging me to come back, and opened the door.

"Miss Gwen," Nathaniel said softly, his cap gripped nervously in front of him as he kept his eyes downcast. "I was wondering if I may call upon you again."

"Oh, Nathaniel, I'm flattered. But I'm going to be going home soon."

He lifted his eyes, which had a sinister glint I instantly recognized. "Then I'll take my kiss now."

"The lady said no." Jacob stepped out of the shadows and came toward us, his hood covering his face and giving him an even more dangerous look. "Good night, Nat."

The color drained from Nathaniel's face as Jacob inched closer. His body trembled as he scooted to the other side of the hallway far away from my door then raced downstairs, nearly falling over his own feet.

"Jesus H. Christ!" I yelled, my hands shaking from fear and rage.

"Be quiet," Jacob ordered as he came into my room and shut the door behind him. "No need to wake the whole place."

"Don't tell me to be quiet." I fought against panicked tears that threatened. I'd never felt so helpless in my life. "What the hell is wrong with the men these days? I've been here two days and in those two days I've been pawed and manhandled more times than I can count. I mean, seriously."

"My dear Miss King," Jacob tried to playfully brush my hair out of my eyes, which caused me to flinch and back away. "I tried to warn you."

"God, I've never been so useless." I rubbed my eyes, trying to force the tears away. "I'm more worthless here than I was in my own world."

"You're not worthless." Stepping closer, he smiled down at me. "A little green, but not worthless."

It was that smile, so compassionate and kind, that caused me to lose what little composure I had left. When he reached out and finally pushed my hair out of my eyes, the emotional dams burst open and I bawled as he gathered me into his arms and held me while I cried. After what seemed like hours of sobbing wrapped in his embrace, I finally composed myself. Looking up at him, I started to back away, but he held me close.

"Not all men are monsters, Gwen." He stroked my back, soothing me in the same way he'd done at the train station after we'd beaten Jack. "There are still a few gentlemen left."

"Like you?" I teased through my tears.

"I'll pretend for your sake." He wiped away my tears with his fingertip. "I won't hurt you. I swear. You're safe with me."

Looking into his eyes, I didn't feel safe. I felt like I was in danger of losing myself in them; two green oceans that saw me for who I truly was. My breath hitched in my chest as I leaned closer, trying to steal just a tiny bit more of his warmth.

At least, that's what I told myself to justify staying in his arms for so long. In truth, I just didn't want to be apart. I could've spent the rest of my life just standing there lost in his eyes.

Until you go home, I reminded myself.

"I'm fine now." I eased back from him, but he didn't let go. "Thank you. I should get some sleep now."

"Shall I leave?"

The thought of being alone wasn't as terrifying as being without him. I needed the safety of him close for just a little while longer. Not because I was afraid Nathaniel would come back. I just didn't want to be alone anymore.

"You can stay if you want." I sat down on the edge of the bed, making sure I focused completely on taking off my boots instead of looking at him. "I'm too tired to care anymore."

He chuckled as he sat down beside me. "Are you always this stubborn?"

I nodded. "You have no idea."

"But I wouldn't mind finding out." When I looked over at him, he had that devilish smirk that made me fight back a smile of my own.

"You're incorrigible." I smiled anyway. "One minute you're trying to send me away and the next your trying to come on to me."

He shrugged. "If it helps, I'm not going to put you on a boat back to American."

"What changed your mind?"

"You." He looked down at the floor. "Your determination to stay in England means you must be telling the truth about some part of your story."

"My whole story – as crazy as it sounds – is true." I tried to stifle a yawn but failed miserably. The emotional overload was taking it toll on me and exhaustion was setting in again. "But I get why you wouldn't believe me. It's pretty incredible."

"When we do go to Bodiam Castle and you don't find what you're looking for, what then?"

This time, I shrugged. "Guess accept that I'm really crazy and commit myself."

He laughed. "Well, at the very least, you could stay with me. And Evie, of course. We already know you're mad. Then, you can get sorted out."

"I suppose." I battled to keep my eyelids up, but I could feel myself giving in. During a long blink, I felt my legs being lifted. I opened my eyes to see him placing them on the bed. "What are you going?"

"Since you won't lay down, I'm doing it for you." He sat down and cradled my head against his chest. "Better?"

"Thank you." As I started to doze, I quickly added. "Don't leave, okay?"

Running his fingers through my hair, he chuckled softly. "I'll be here when you wake up. Pleasant dreams, Miss King."

I thought I felt something softly brush against my forehead, but before I could figure out what it was I fell into a deep dreamless sleep. All too soon, I felt my eyes lids burning as the light streamed into the room through the tiny window. Jacob's body was stretched out next to me, his breathing the only sound as he rested one arm under my neck and held me close to his chest. I smiled, treasuring the innocent tenderness of the moment.

I could fall in love with you, Jacob Frye, I thought as I opened my eyes and watched him sleep. It's too bad it'd never work. We're literally from two different worlds.

After only a few minutes, his eyes slowly opened, the green reminding me of the clover patches on the levees in Louisiana. He turned to me, a sleepy smile dancing on his lips.

"Good morning, sunshine," I said softly, smiling back at him.

He let out a contented sigh. "Good morning, darling. Sleep well?"

"Like a baby." My fingers itched to reach out and run along his beautiful scar on his cheek. "Thank you."

"The pleasure's all mine." He leaned down and placed a lingering kiss on my forehead before pulling away slowly with a frown. "We need to be on our way. I need to secure Ned's cargo before the Blighters have a chance to distribute it through the boroughs. I have a few Rooks already watching it, but we only have until tomorrow morning to take it."

I nodded, but neither of us moved to get up. Lost in his eyes, all I could think about was the feeling of his lips on mine again. I doubted he'd deny me if I acted on my impulse, but I knew I'd be playing a dangerous game and refused to gamble with my heart. After what felt like forever, I finally dragged myself away and got out of bed.

"Have you given any more thought to me joining the Rooks?" I asked, turning away from him and pretending to straighten myself up so he wouldn't see the disappointment if he said no.

"Not really." I could hear him getting up as well but couldn't face him. "I was thinking how best to convince you to come back to bed."

My heart skipped a beat. "Weren't you just saying we needed to get up?"

"Yes, but considering the alternative." He came to stand behind me. "I'd prefer the former to the latter."

"I'm not some innocent young girl you can just sweet talk." I kept facing away from him. I needed to pretend to be stronger than I really was. "I have had lovers, Jacob, and I know men will say anything to get what they want. It won't work on me."

"Hmm." I felt him inch closer and fought the urge to turn around and jump into his arms. "I suppose you think knowing you've had other lovers would make me less drawn to you, but I find it even more appealing. What could I learn from you, darling?"

"Jacob!"

He laughed, his breath moving my hair. "All right. To business then. We'll head back to the train and rally the Rooks for tonight."

"And what you intend for me to do, seeing as how I'd like to join your gang. I'll even wear the uniform if you want."

"That, my dear Miss King, is a vision I'd find even more appealing. But first." His arms snaked around my waist, drawing me into his body. He pressed his face into the crook of my neck and inhaled deeply, the sensation causing my knees to almost give out. His lips almost brushed my ear as he leaned into me, his hand gliding down to mine and closing it into a fist. "Remember, if anyone should trouble you again: eyes, throat, steed. Aim for a man's eyes, throat or his steed and you'll bring him down."

"Okay." I smiled, trying to make light of the moment before I was tempted to stay in his arms. "Does that go for you too?"

He laughed as he let me go and stepped back. "If you like, Miss King. Just be certain you're willing to pay the price. I have no intention of fighting fair."

I turned to him finally. "I think that's the truest thing you've ever said. Now, let's get outta here."

Walking back to the station, I tried to broach the subject of my initiation into the Rooks, but each time I mentioned it he would change the subject or make a comment to spark a playful argument. By the time we boarded, I'd given up for the moment but refused to forget. I wanted to be a Rook and, no matter how many times he tried to avoid it, we were going to talk about it.

"I'm pleased to see you've chosen to grace us with your company," Evie commented snidely before realizing it was me. "I'm so sorry, Gwen. I thought you were Jacob."

"Pleasure seeing you too, dear sister," he snapped back as he entered behind me. "And, as you can see, I had good reason for being away."

She smiled at me. "It's good to see you again. When Jacob explained that he intended to send you back to America, I assumed we'd never see you again."

"Well, not all of us excel at preparation," he interjected.

I shot him a quick annoyed glance then smiled at Evie. "It's all right. I honestly didn't plan on coming back, but he can be pretty convincing when he wants to be. I'm just sorry if I worried you by my…" I grinned as I took my usual seat on the sofa. "Abrupt departure."

"So is Dan," he teased, easing in beside me.

"There's nothing for you to apologize for." She waved at him dismissingly. "I understand your reasons. Still, I hope you don't feel obligated to stay. Regardless of what my brother thinks, you're free to go if you like. You're not a hostage."

I could only nod my thanks, too touched to speak for a moment. Meeting her kind blue eyes, I felt almost as safe as I did with Jacob. For some reason, I knew she'd help me even if I had nothing to offer them.

Honestly, it's not like I really have anything anyway, I thought in amusement. Finally collecting myself, I said, "Thank you. That means a lot to me. But, honestly, I am in your debt. Without your help, I probably wouldn't be alive right now."

"I doubt that." She made a quick, sweep glance of my new outfit with a smile. "You're shown to be very… resourceful when needed."

I laughed. "Yeah. Necessity calls for it when you jump out a moving train in nothing but a nightgown. How are you and Henry coming along with the Shroud?"

"As well as can be expected." She shifted, clearly uncomfortable with discussing the details of their mission. "We'll speak later, though. I was on my way to meet with Mr. Green. I'm sure you're exhausted from your own adventures."

"Not really. Me and Jacob got a room last night." Realizing how it sounded, I tried to backtrack. "I mean, we slept together last night. Just slept, though. Nothing else."
I stopped talking when Evie's face turned bright red from holding in her laughter as I stumbled through my explanation. I could only imagine from the heat in my cheeks that I was only a shade or two brighter. Embarrassed, I faked interest in the floor, unable to meet her eyes.

"We had hoped to speak to you in private," Jacob said suddenly before grabbing my hand and kissing the back. "Our Miss King would like to ask for your permission to marry me. As she's already defiled me, she feels she has to do the honorable thing."

My jaw dropped open, too shocked to speak. Thankfully, Evie answered for me.

"As much as I'd hate to think Gwen would settle on a man she'd find an equal to only in the Trench," she said, once again so deadpan I almost believed her. "I believe she'd be better off in Lambeth Asylum than married to you, dear brother."

I laughed when Jacob stiffened a little, reminded that he wasn't the only quick-witted and sharp-tongued Frye. After a few minutes of verbal battle between them, Evie and I discussed my recovered memories. After hearing them, she was convinced I'd somehow found a yet to be discovered piece of Eden. How else, she reasoned, could I travel through time and space itself?

It made as much sense as anything else, I supposed. Still, I couldn't explain why I'd come to this specific time and place. What was it that drew me to Victorian England? And why had I shown up in a place that was exactly like the game I'd been playing less than a month before my trip?

While I still didn't have any answers to those questions, I was positive I'd figure it out in time. Thankfully, time itself was something I could face happily now that I knew I was safe.

"I'll ask Mr. Green if he knows anything about a piece of Eden with the abilities you've described," she said as she readied to leave. "In the meantime, please make yourself at home here. The train is at your disposal."

"I keep saying it, but thank you, Evie." I followed her to the door. "You're a godsend."

She patted my shoulder. "It's nothing. I can't say why, but I believe our paths crossed for a reason. Perhaps finding what you're looking for will help in our hunt for the Shroud."

"I hope so. If there's anything I can do to help, please let me know."

She nodded. "I will. See you soon."

"She likes you," Jacob said as we watched her disappear into the crowded station.

"She's my hero." I smiled to myself. "A strong woman in a world that punishes women for being strong. She's amazing."

"And me?"

"You?" I laughed. "Well, you were an ass, but you've kind of grown on me. Thank you for keeping me safe."

"Oh, my dear Miss King." He leaned into my back, his lips against my ear. "You're nowhere near as safe with me as you think. I fully intend on making you mine. And soon, my darling Gwen. Very, very soon."

"Then make me a Rook."

I felt him pull away and thought I'd pushed too hard. Flopping back down on the sofa, he said, "You're in luck, Miss King. I've been in search of just the right sort to be a lookout when we retake Ned's cargo. If you're serious about joining the Rook, your initiation begins tonight."

I spun around. "Are you serious?"

He only nodded.

"Thank you, Jacob. You won't be disappointed. I'm going to be the best lookout the Rooks ever had." I paused, realizing I really didn't know anything about organized crime and didn't want to promise anything I couldn't deliver on. "I'll do my best. I promise."

"I have no doubt of that." He smiled. "Just try not to get yourself killed tonight."

I smiled back. "I promise."

"Lookout." I grumbled as I stood scanning the streets for police. "Fucking bullshit job is what it is."

There was no need for me to be there, I realized once we'd met with several other Rooks and made our way to the docks where the Blighters were unloading Ned's cargo onto a cart to take it to its end location. Jacob had placed riflemen on the adjoining buildings above the Blighters as well as three more flanking the area of either side should they get the cart moving. Finally, less than ten feet from me, was Drake, a Rook assigned to secure the cargo once it was in our hands. In a word, I was just there for looks.

"Hey, Drake," I called in a whisper, anxious even though there was no reason for me to be. "See anything?"

He shook his head. "Not a peep, Miss Gwen. Just as still as the grave. How goes it on your end?"

"Still as the grave," I answered, slumping against the building. "And boring as hell."

Drake chuckled softly. "Hell's exactly what'll happen when we get the signal. Don't worry, Miss Gwen. I'll keep ya safe."

That's what I'm afraid of, I thought angrily as Jacob moved through the shadows toward us. I'll be safe right here with my thumb up my ass while the other Rooks put themselves at risk.

"Ready?" He asked with a devilish grin.

Drake inflated his chest proudly. "Aye, Mr. Frye. We'll clobber 'um."

Jacob nodded before turning to me. "Gwen?"

"Keep watch for police, keep down and out of sight," I repeated the instructions he'd given. "If anything goes wrong, run and get help."

"That's my clever girl." He pulled out a blade and handed it to me. "Remember what I taught you."

I nodded. "Eyes, throat, horse. I got it."

Drake and Jacob both looked at me, clearly confused, before Jacob asked, "What?"

"You said to aim for an attacker's eyes, throat or horse, remember?" I rolled my eyes. "Oh, wait. Sorry. His steed."

Drake stifled a laugh but quickly clamped his lips together when Jacob shot him an annoyed look before leaning into my ear and whispered, "Darling, I didn't mean his horse. I meant the steed between his legs. Shall I show you later?"

Realizing what he'd meant, I slapped his chest. "You're so disgusting!"

His chuckles faded as he disappeared into the darkness again, leaving me once again frustrated and flushed. Thankfully, it was only a matter of seconds before a whistle echoed through the night; the signal we'd been waiting for.

The rooftop Rooks opened with a volley of gunfire, quickly taking out several Blighters before the remaining took cover and started returning fire. As the Blighters were distracted, Drake darted from his hiding place toward the single horse cart with Jacob only a few steps behind him. Before they were noticed, Jacob had taken out several more Blighters before he, too, ducked to avoid the remaining ones.

Drake eagerly climbed onto the seat and grabbed the reins. As he started to crack them, a single shot opened the back of his skull only seconds before Jacob embedded his bracer blade into the firing Blighter. Startled by Drake's falling body, the horse reared and started to bolt for the street.

I ran from my hiding place and grabbed hold of the side of the wagon just as it sped past me. Clinging to the sidewall, I managed to stay with it long enough to throw my leg over and pull myself into the back just as we hit the cobblestone streets, which were blessedly nearly empty due to the hour. I dragged myself along on my belly, gripping reach floorboard plank, and got to the bench. I hoisted myself into place and reached for where the reins should be, only to find them dangling haphazardly behind the horse.

Trapped on a runaway wagon barreling through the streets, I clung to the bench and prayed. Time seemed to slow down as I watched the horse lurch forward, its head dipping low as its front legs dropped and skid along the ground followed in quick succession by its hind quarter. The wagon drove the dead animal's body forward several more yards, the vibrations causing me to almost lose grip, before coming to a hard stop.

"Well, lads," I heard someone say in the distance. "We're going to need another horse."

I didn't move or breathe. I could only sit there with my fingers locked onto the bench, not believing I was still alive. Slowly, I felt my hands being pried away from the wood but couldn't react. Again, I heard someone talking but much closer this time.

"You're safe now, darling. You can let go."

I couldn't understand the words, even though I knew what they meant. Finally able to move, I looked over to see Jacob's hands resting on mine as he tried to pull them free.

"Say something," he whispered, the worried look breaking me from my stupor.

Leaning over the side of the cart, I pushed him away then promptly threw up.

"My poor darling," he mumbled, a hint of amusement in his voice as he pushed my hair away from my face. "How are you feeling?"

"I fucking hate…" I paused and wretched again. "Horses."

He laughed as he helped me down and escorted me away while the others managed the cargo. It took another two hours for us to receive payment after we delivered and for me to recover completely. By midnight, we were at the pub celebrating our success and drinking away our pay.

Once the shock had worn off, I was beyond overjoyed when the story of my adventure spread through the pub and the other Rooks welcomed me into their gang. They showered me with praise and affection for risking my life to save our payday. Even though what I'd done didn't seem like much, I was thankful I'd proven my worth.

After several drinks in honor of my courage, someone began playing a fiddle and I couldn't help but sway along to the music that reminded me of the old country music my parents used to play. Good and drunk, I smiled and watched as people started to dance both in pairs and solo.

"Dance with me, Miss Gwen?" A young Rook who's name I couldn't remember asked as he took my hand and led me toward the middle of the room.

"Miss King's dance card is presently filled," Jacob said, pulling me away from the other man and spinning me around to face him.

With my inhibitions gone, I leaned into him and purred, "Really, Mr. Frye. By who?"

"By the only man I'd ever let hold you like this." He wrapped an arm around my waist with a smirk while he placed a lock of hair behind my ear with his free hand. "Me."

"How presumptuous of you, Mr. Frye." I ran my finger along the beautiful scar on his cheek. "Well then, shall we dance?"

"Later," he growled, pulling me tighter into his embrace. "You look ravishing in my colors, darling. A queen of the Rooks if I've ever seen one."

"Queen of the Rooks." I laughed. "I could get used to that title."

"It's yours for the taking." He leaned closer, his lips caressing my ear again. "I'd make you my queen, Gwen."

"Careful, Mr. Frye. A lady could forget herself."

"By all means, forget." His caught my chin in his hand and forced me to look into his eyes. "Or let me remind you how a lady should be treated."

I turned in his grasp and swayed to the music as I pressed myself into him. "You make me weak, Jacob Frye."

He laughed. "Is that a yes?"

"First, a dance." Feeling the pressure of him against my lower back, I smirked. "My God, I could ride that steed to heaven. Shall we?"

"Woman, you do things to me," he growled, his lips brushing my neck before he pulled away slowly. "But as you are now, it wouldn't be a fair fight."

"You mean drunk?" I ground myself into him, enjoying the feel of his body craving mine. "Because I am so very drunk right now. And – how would you say it? – need of a good mounting?"

"You're torturing me, Gwen," he exhaled in a hiss.

"Let's get outta here and you can have whatever you want." I turned to look at him, a fire burning behind those clover colored eyes that set me ablaze. "With you, Jacob, I'm willing."

He stared at me, searching for something my alcohol-hazed mind couldn't fathom even though I could tell there was a battle being waged within him. I knew there was an angel and a devil whispering in his ears and I prayed the devil won.

"We're leaving." He took my hand and led me onto the street. The cool night air caused me to press myself against him, seeking the warm only his body could offer. He stopped long enough to look at me once more before shaking his head with a sigh and taking us back to the train.

Alone in the dimly lit car that had become my bedroom, I pulled him down on top me and we tumbled onto the sofa. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I tried to kiss him several times.

"I need you, Jacob. Make love to me."

He groaned as he tried to pull away. "Please, Gwen. We have to stop."

"I don't want to stop." I peppered his jaw and neck with kisses and tiny nips. "I need you inside me."

He slid down my body to the floor, where he went to work removing my boots and the stocking that replaced my destroyed socks. As he stood in front of me, I reached for his belt, but he held my hand and pulled me to my feet before slipping off my overcoat and vest. They each fell the floor as I tried once more to bring his mouth down to mine.

"Kiss me," I pleaded, tugging at his coat.

"Later." He carefully sat me down on the sofa. "Stay here while I fetch a bucket."

"I don't know what for, but I'm game." Slouching down, I soon found myself laying down in front of him as my eyelids started to droop. "Hurry back, okay?"

He smiled. "Won't be a moment."

Closing my eyes to keep the room from spinning, I waited patiently for my soon-to-be lover to return when I fell asleep

"Turn off the damn light," I snarled in a dry whisper, throwing my arm over my eyes to block out the harsh sun and the pounding in my head.

I hadn't been hungover since college and remembered why I didn't like to drink more than a glass of wine. The memories of the evening prior did nothing to change my resolve. Everything from the drinking with the Rooks, the hijacking of Ned's cargo and my attempted seduction of Jacob were all there in vivid color. The last being the worst. What seemed like allure through ale-goggles looked more like a cat in heat in the morning light. If I could, I would've buried myself in the blanket careful placed over me and never faced him again.

But he was a gentleman, I thought when I remembered how I'd thrown myself at him. He could've taken advantage of me, but he didn't. Maybe he's just been kidding all along.

I lifted my arm and looked around, hoping to be alone so I didn't have to face the shame of acting like a whore. Sitting on the floor just a few inches from me, his head was bowed as he slept with a bucket between his legs as if waiting for me to get sick.

He took care of me. My heart swelled, realizing that he'd stayed even after I made a fool of myself. Maybe he really does care.

Sitting up, I fought the urge to bury my head in the bucket as I reached out and touched his shoulder. He lifted his head and turned to me, a smile playing in the corners of his lips before fading into a scowl. When he opened his mouth to speak, I cut him off.

"I'm so sorry about last night." Keeping my voice low more to avoid the continued headache than discretion. "Thank you for taking care of me."

"Well, someone had to." His frown disappeared as he teased me. "You, my dear Miss King, were properly soshed."

"And I regret it, trust me." Glancing at my hand still resting on his shoulder, I pulled it away. "About what I said last night –"

"Greenie and Evie seem to think they'd found some information on your magical technology." He stood then helped me to my feet. "He's like to meet with you and discuss it."

"That's good news." Even as I said it, the words felt hollow. "We should go see him right away."

"Evie will go with you this afternoon." He looked away as he rolled his shoulders to work the stiffness from them. "I have other business to attend to."

"Rook business?" When he nodded, I continued. "I hate to ask for another favor after everything you've done, but would you take what's left of my part of the profits to Drake's wife. He has – had – a son that she'll need to take care of. It's going to be hard without Drake."

"Darling, there's no need."

I shook my head. "No. Drake might still be alive if I'd just followed your orders. Besides, it's not like I need the money. There's other jobs I can do now that I'm a Rook."

"You never cease to amaze me, Gwen." When he looked at me again, there was a profound admiration in his expression that made me looked away. "It'd be my honor. Anything else?"

I shook my head. "No. That's it, I guess. Well, that and I'm really sorry about last night. Thank you for not…" I shrugged. "You know."

"Don't think you're safe with me, darling." He smiled at me, his scarred eyebrow raised seductively. "I still intend to claim what's mine."

I rolled my eyes, secretly pleased we were back to our teasing banter. "I don't belong to you."

"Not yet." He donned his overcoat and headed for the door. "But soon, darling."

"You keep saying that, but you haven't done anything yet." I shot back.

He grabbed my wrist and pulled me into his arms. Holding me there, he growled, "Some things are worth waiting for. And you, my dear Miss King, are truly worth it."

Shoving him away, I narrowed my eyes. "How can you be so sweet and so awful at the same time?"

He just laughed. "I'll see you tonight."

"Ass," I mumbled as he left, knowing he could've had me at that moment if he wanted. He was just that good.

Shortly after he left, Evie and I headed to Henry's shop to find out what he had information for me. Bless her heart, she recommended we take a carriage when she realized I was hungover, but I knew the walk would do me some good while also giving us a chance to talk.

"Are you uncomfortable with me knowing so much about you?" I asked when we paused at a crosswalk.

"Only because we know so little about you," she admitted before striding on.

Catching up with her long strides and falling into a rhythm, I continued. "I'm not working for the Templars if that's what you're worried about."

She smiled. "The thought hadn't crossed my mind."

"Liar," I teased, causing us both to laugh. "You were wondering if I was carrying information back and forth so they can stay ahead of y'all. I wish there was some way to convince you I was telling the truth, but I know it's kind of fantastic."

"I know you're telling us the truth. At least, the truth as you know it." She stopped and, catching my arm, forced me to look at her. "It's very… complicated."

I nodded. "I know. Once second you have the world figured out and the next you got me coming in throwing curveballs." Seeing her confusion with my baseball reference, I shrugged. "I'm just sorry to mess up your plans. I really don't want to be any trouble."

"You're no trouble, Gwen." Her smile crept back onto her lips. "You've actually been a convenient distraction for my brother as of late."

I felt a blush creep into my cheeks. "I'm just a pain in his backside."

"A pain he doesn't mind keeping close." She teased. "He was determined to find you when you ran off. Sending out his Rooks wasn't enough. He wanted to track you down himself to make sure you were safe."

"He's kept me safe. More than once." I smiled to myself. "I'm grateful to have him around."

"My only worry is once you're gone, he'll revert back to the havoc he's so eager to cause." She sighed as we rounded a corner I instantly recognized from the game. "Perhaps if Father were still alive, Jacob would be less inclined to give into his impulses. I worry he won't realize the damage he's done until it's too late."

"He's not as thoughtful as you, but his heart's in the right place. Just give him some time. He'll do the right thing. I know it." Taking the lead to Henry's shop, I change the subject. "This is how y'all first came to Henry's shop. You and Jacob were following him and had to make sure he wasn't followed by the Blighters."

"You've seen our arrival in London?"

I nodded. "Like I was there, but the first time y'all went to Henry's shop was when I fell in love with the Creed. Well, mostly because of you. I'd never seen a female lead character who was so realistic. You weren't just tits and ass. You were pretty and smart and had substance. I wished I was half as awesome as you were."

"A character?" She raised her eyebrow, reminding me she was Jacob's twin. "I wish I understood your world better. You make it sound like we're nothing more than parts of a story."

I thought how to explain it as we resumed our steady pace to Henry's. Standing outside the door, I finally offered, "In a sense, you are. Just part of a story millions of people all over the world love. Well, except the haters and trolls, but those guys are assholes."

She laughed as I opened the door and followed her in. Before I even saw his face, I could tell Henry was pleased to see her by the way he called out to her from behind the counter, "Evie, a pleasure to see you so soon."

"Mr. Green," she responded coolly, stepping aside so he could see me. "Let me introduce Miss Gwen King. She's the one I spoke to you about."

"Ah, yes." Henry extended his hand, which I took and politely shook. "I'm pleased to meet you at last, Miss King."

"Likewise, Mr. Green. And please, it's just Gwen. I don't do the British formality." I smiled. "Besides, I've heard so much about you, I feel like we're already friends."

"You have me at a disadvantage then, Gwen." When he let go of my hand, I noticed him studying me like Evie and Jacob had; assessing me as a potential threat. "Miss Frye tells me you're aware of our mission but claim to be from another time and place."

"I know how crazy it sounds, but it's true. Where I'm from, the Creed isn't real."

"Then how can you know of us?"

"We play a game that tells the story of the Assassins' missions. There's five or six different stories about different assassins. I've only played a couple. Let's see, there's Altair, Ezio, Edward Kenway, and Arno Dorian. I played as Edward first then Arno, but I didn't finish his story. Altair and Ezio I know about because my friend is addicted to the games." I paused when I noticed the shock on their faces. "What?"

"Gwen, those names are…" Evie trailed off. "Their part of our history."

"I know. They came before you and Jacob. And Henry, of course." I gave her a sheepish grin. "I told you I knew stuff."

"But the history of the Creed." Henry smiled. "Perhaps your stories aren't so outlandish as we thought. Do you know where we could locate the Shroud?"

I shook my head. "No. Sorry. I didn't finish the game before I came to England. The furthest I got was Lucy Throne and Starrick Crawford talking about how y'all couldn't stop them. Oh! And soothing syrup. That stuff's a messy business that y'all will make go away real soon."

"Jacob's looking into it as we speak." Evie shook her head, clearly confused. "Gwen, has he spoken to you about it?"

"No, he hasn't. I saw him when I woke up, but he said he had some Rook business to take care of and left. Then I came with you to see Henry. If I'm right, we're going to hear about him taking out the factory where they make it soon."

"Incredible!" Henry turned around and began looking over his books. "Foreknowledge has never been mentioned in association with any of the pieces of Eden before. Yet, you clearly have information we've kept only between the three of us."

"I told you I only know this stuff because of being from a different time and place."

"Time and space is constant and isn't believed to be reversible. Except…" He pulled a book from the shelf. "Ah, here it is. The Wheel of Time."

"The philosophy?" Evie asked, voicing my surprise as well. "But that's not a physical artifact."

He shook his head. "Actually, it is. At least, it was rumored to be one. A precursor item with the ability to move its possessor through time and space, but it was never verified as existing."

I looked down at the book as he opened it. A picture of a small wheel with a rough-cut gem in the middle cause me to remember my trip to Bodiam Castle. It was like a light switch was flipped and I was back in the twenty-first century with Helena in the courtyard of the castle.

"You're going to get us arrested," I scolded her, my voice barely above a whisper as I scanned the courtyard for anyone watching her carefully chip away a small piece of the wall. "See, this is why everybody hates Americans."

"Relax. I just want a souvenir. Besides, if somebody catches us, we'll just pretend to be dumb Southerners and put it back. No harm done." She giggled to herself before I heard a soft thud on the ground. "Well, well, well. What do we have here?"

I glanced over my shoulder, careful to keep scanning for any signs of acknowledgment from the other visitors. Thankfully, they were in the own worlds. "What is it?"

"Dunno. Looks like some fabric." Standing up, she quickly dropped it into my oversized purse. "Well, check it out later. Why didn't you mention the two hotties over there?"

"Dammit, Helena." I reached into my bag, trying to fish the thing out. Before I could reach it, she grabbed my other hand and towed me along with her.

"How y'all doin'?" She said once we were standing in front of a couple of men. "Nice day, ain't it?"

I inwardly groaned at the sound of her exaggerated accent, but finally looked up to see the men she wanted to meet. They were handsome in a British kind of way. The one Helena was already making eyes at was tall and thin with light brown hair and blue eyes framed by a pair of black glasses that gave him a hot nerd look.

The other man, who I assumed Helena would expect me to flirt with for her sake, was a couple of inches shorter than his friend with a solid build. When he smiled, it was more smug than sincere, and I got the distinct impression that he was only acknowledging me because of his friend's interest in Helena. He had darker hair and a pair of brown eyes that looked seductively wicked. Adding to his appeal was the carefully disheveled look I knew he'd taken a lot of time on.

"We're well. And yourselves?" Helena's beau answered, his smile reaching his eyes. "I'm Oliver and this is my cousin, Bruce."

"Well, ain't that nice." She nudged me. "We're cousins too. I'm Helena and this is Gwen. We're from the U.S."

Instantly, they hit it off and made quick conversation. Meanwhile, Bruce eyed me up and down, clearly deciding if he wanted to continue pretending to interested for Oliver's sake or move on. Not giving him the chance to dismiss me, I preemptively turned my back on them and started to walk toward the castle gates.

"I'm going check out the moat," I called over my shoulder and quickly headed for the bridge. Alone, I stared at the water and thought about how Bruce reminded me of Jacob from Assassin's Creed: Syndicate. Had his attitude been a little less dismissive, I probably would've gotten to know him before walking away.

Remembering the object Helena tossed into my purse, I tried to search for it again to get a better look at it. My fingers grazed the fabric, which felt almost like burlap but somehow softer, and noticed something that felt almost like stone inside it. Peeling back the cloth, I tried to get a look at it while hidden in my bag.

"Oi, love," Bruce called as he started to come toward me. "Your cousin wanted to know if you wanted to come to the pub with us."

I smiled. Yes, he did look like Jacob Frye without the sexy scars, I thought just as my fingers grazed something cool. Suddenly, I was surrounded by a blinding light followed by complete darkness.

The first thing I noticed was the smell…

"That's it!" I pointed to the stone as I jumped up and down excitedly. "That's what Helena found in the wall at Bodiam Castle. She dumped it in my purse and I was trying to get it out. It came unwrapped and I touched it. Then I was here."

"Do you think it's still there?" Evie asked, concerned.

"It's a start. We know the where and the what now. I can go look for it."

"Let's not to be hasty, Gwen." Henry closed his book and placed it back on the shelf. "If this is, in fact, a piece of Eden, we should learn more about it and look into if the Templars are aware of its existence. I'll continue researching and come to call when I know more."

"Thank you, Mr. Green." Evie's cheeks took on the prettiest shade of pink. "We look forward to it."

"Well, one of us does," I teased just loud enough for her to hear. I reached out and shook Henry's hand again. "Yes, thank you, Henry. Please don't let this get in the way of your other research. I think I can wait a little while longer."

"My pleasure, Gwen. We'll do what we can to help you get back where you belong."

"I know you will."

Still, as we left, I wondered if going home was really where I belonged.

I suppose I should've been disappointed with the lack of information about the Wheel of Time after meeting with Henry Green, but I understood my situation was unique. Besides, Jacob and Evie came to London with their own mission in mind and I was just an extra piece they hadn't planned for. With Henry's help and the little bit of information I had, they continued to toil away at freeing the boroughs from the grips of the Templars.

I helped when I could, but I wasn't a trained assassin so much of my time was spent on the train reading books that Henry though might have information about the Wheel or helping Evie plan their next mission. Trying to make myself useful, I offered to reach out to their contacts like Sargent Abberline or Clara O'Dea for any tasks they needed assistance (Part of me even pretended to be the reason these missions appeared in the game.)

While Evie and Henry told me I was a benefit, I couldn't help but feel like this wasn't enough. I wanted to help expand the Rooks holdings over the city while also defeating the Blighters. Mostly, though, I'd tasted adventure and, since I'd survived, wanted more.

The problem was Jacob seemed to want to keep me as far away from the Rooks as possible. Most mornings he was gone shortly after I woke up and didn't return until almost late into the night. Not that I could begrudge him going about his own business. Wasn't he rallying a gang to defeat the Blighters and Templar so the city could be free of their chokehold? One barely useful Rook in the grand scheme of things didn't seem to be helpful to anyone.

Yet, just when I started to feel like he was avoiding me, he would prove he was thinking of me. The day I was sent with a couple of Rooks to a tailor or when I was asked to escort Agnes to the bakery to pick up a chocolate cake he'd special order because I'd made an offhand remark to Evie about missing it were sign – at least in my mind – he wanted me to know he was around even when he wasn't. It was flattering, really, and I came to appreciate it all the more.

Still, I wanted to do more than researching and running. I wanted to be beside him again. Taking on our enemies, of course. I wanted to help save a city I was coming to love.

After several days of not seeing him except for when he woke me to say goodbye, I finally got my chance to confront him when he returned to the train only a few hours before dawn. He looked tired and ragged, but he smiled when our eyes met.

"You should be sleeping," he teasingly scolded.

I rolled my eyes. "So should you. You look exhausted."

He shrugged off my concern and countered with a suggestive lift of his eyebrow. "Would you be joining me if I went to bed?"

"If that's what it'd take to get you to slow down." I touched his hand. "You can't keep doing this. You're going to run yourself into the grave."

He just sighed dismissingly and turned away as he slipped out of his stained shirt. "There's no need for you to worry, Gwen. Besides, you haven't told me what Greenie's found."

"Not much. He thinks it's the Wheel of Time but can't verify it. The last time anyone even mentioned it was during the Crusades and then it was just a rumor." I touched his shoulder, causing him to flinch ever so slightly. "Jacob, don't ignore me. I'm just trying to help."

"I'll stay here and rest today." He shoulders slumped like he'd lost a battle. "Will that make you happy?"

I smiled. "Very. I'll even tuck you in."

"Thank you, Gwen." He turned around to face me, the lines on his face softened by a smile as he brushed my hair off my forehead.

I laughed, confused. "What for? I didn't do anything."

"You remind me there are more important things than my happiness." He stroked my cheek. "Like yours."

"Whatever. You're such a liar." I looked down as my cheek heated. Catching sight of the black bird, a rook, on his chest I smiled. "It's beautiful, Jacob."

"Thank you." He closed the distance between us. Teasingly, he added, "Would you like to touch it?"

I rolled my eyes but didn't back down from his challenge. Timidly, I reached out and traced it with my fingertips. The quick hiss as he sucked in a breath startled me and, thinking I'd hurt him, I started to pull my hand away. Catching it, he placed it over his tattoo.

"No," he whispered as he stroked my fingers with his thumb. "Please. Don't let go. Not yet."

Our eyes locked; the attraction suddenly palpable. My heart was pounding as he inched closer until our bodies were nearly connected. I couldn't think; couldn't move. The only thing I could do was continue staring into those green orbs and remember how much I wanted him.

But you're not staying here, I reminded myself.

I wanted to stop us; needed to stop us. Drawing my strength, I started to explain, "Jacob–"

"I love hearing you say my name." He said, cutting me off as he lowered his face. "It's like a prayer. I want you to say it again and for the rest of our lives."

"Please don't tease me by saying things like that." Even denying him with my words, my body rebelled and pressed into his. "I'll get hurt if I believe them."

Catching my chin in his fingers, he lowered his face until our lips were so close I could feel the tiny breaths from every word against mine. "I swear on my life, I've never been as sincere as I am now. You're precious to me."

"We hardly know each other," I argued, the warmth of his lips making me want to close the distance.

"I know my heart and it wants you." God! Had he always smelled that good, I wondered. His scent, a mixture of natural man and alcohol with just a hint of the coppery smell of blood, wrapped around me and kept me from drawing away. "Be mine, Gwen King. Stay with me and I'll give you everything I have."

"I'm not supposed to be here, Jacob." Logically, I knew it was a weak reason, but it was the only one I could think of. "I can't."

"Then I need you to teach me how to stop these feelings. They're destroying me. I can't eat, I can't sleep." He took a ragged breath and licked his lips. "All I want is to be close to you."

My entire body screamed to give in. I only had to close the tiny, nonexistent distance between us and he'd be mine. His lower lip shined from his tongue. All it would take is for me to move a millimeter closer and I'd get to taste them again. No reservations, no confusing it for a dream. I'd know, finally know, what I'd been dreaming of.

All I had to do was reach out.

"Don't let personal feelings compromise the mission." I stepped back until I was at arm's length. "I'm sorry, Jacob, but I can't."

"You're certain you never knew my father?" The bitterness in his laugh cut my heart in two. "Very well, Miss King. Your virtue is safe from me. I won't ask you again."

"Jacob –" I reached for him, wanting to explain why I'd distanced myself, but he turned away, leaving me empty-handed and hurt.

"There's another shipment tomorrow night." He hurried to put on a clean shirt, adding another two layers before heading for the door. "I need an experienced lookout if you're interested. The pay should be enough for you to make the trip to Bodiam Castle."

I stared at the floor. "I'll be ready. Thank you for the opportunity."

"Don't thank me yet, Miss King." When I finally looked at him, the sneer on his face made want to rethink my statement. "You'll earn your pay this time. I promise you that."

It was only an hour after sundown when Jacob finally arrived at the pub, but several Rooks, including myself, were already waiting for him. Over a pint, we talked about our latest exploits and wondered what he had in mind before he arrived.

"Hope its another hijacking," Rupert, the young Rook who'd asked me to dance, said to everyone and no one. "That last job got me mum to the best doctor in town."

"She feeling herself again, is she?" Martha, the only other woman, asked.

Rupert nodded enthusiastically. "Too right. The old girl's back to bickering with da. I'd say she's right as rain now."

I smiled as I listened to the conversation and wondered about my new comrades. These were criminals, but they were also the most loyal and loving people I'd ever had the pleasure of getting to know. In the brief time I'd had to know them, I saw how they truly cared about each other and were just trying to make it in a world that was so much harder than the one I'd come from. While their jobs may be less than savory, they still worked tirelessly to do it well and earn their money. What's more, they were proud to do what needed to be done to take care of themselves and their families. I couldn't help but respect them; criminals and all.

"…And then he fired and the nag went down, stone dead. Bob's truth, it was only one shot. Saved Miss Gwen, he did."

I pulled myself away from my introspection when I heard Rupert mention me. "Wait. Who saved me?"

He stared at me as if another head had just popped out of my shoulder. "Why, Mr. Frye, of course. Don't you remember?"

I smiled, my heart filling with joy at the thought of Jacob saving me yet again.

"Truthfully, Rupert, I was too busy holding on and trying not to die to remember much." While others laughed, I stood and raised my pint. "A toast to Jacob Frye: may we all be as amazing at least once in our lives as that pompous bastard is every day."

After a round of agreements and a long drink, I noticed the very man we toasted standing just inside the doorway of the pub with that smug smile that made me want to run over and kiss him again.

"Lads," he announced after making his way to our table. Taking my pint, he glanced down at the remaining three-quarters of it. "Already half-rats, Miss King?"

I held my chest, pretending to be hurt by his comment. "You wound me, Mr. Frye. This is my first and only. I never drink and drive."

After a shared laugh around the table, he pulled up a chair between me and Rupert. "No horses for you tonight. Tonight's about mayhem on the Thames. Still interested?"

I nodded. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

As he explained the missions for us to sabotage several loads on a barge, I quickly realized that he had no intention of letting me be anywhere near harm. Once again, I was relegated to watching for police but this time I'd be safe on the bridge overlooking the action. How he intended for me to single was unclear, but it didn't keep me from fuming at my lack of participation.

"The explosions will need to start at the far end of the barge as not to trap any of us aboard as it goes down," he continued. "Martha, have you used dynamite before?"

She shook her head. "No, sir, but I can manage."

Jacob nodded his approval. "Good. Now, as for the rest of us –"

"Excuse me," I interrupted. "I have experience with explosives. Why don't I run the dynamite?"

"You've handled dynamite?" He raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

In truth, the closest I'd ever come to explosives was lighting fireworks on the Fourth of July or New Years, but since they contained gunpowder I was sure it wouldn't be much different. "Yes. Every year. What I'm used to is a little smaller, but it's the same principle."

"Miss Gwen's a bricky lady," Rupert said, the others nodding their agreement. "She'll get it done."

I wasn't sure what he'd called me, but apparently it swayed Jacob. He sighed then continued, "All right then. Now, for the fun part…"

It was already well past dark when we made our way to the docks controlled by the Templars and run by the Blighters. Jacob's plans were always simple, but my direct involvement in this once put me on edge.

"Run the line," I repeated to myself as I waited for Martha and Dan, the Rook I'd tried to knock out during my escape, to give the signal that the small fire they'd set close to the barge had drawn away the Blighters so Jacob and I could sneak on. The candle she held up on the roof barely shined, but it was just enough for me to rush toward the empty gangplank. Slipping through several crates and boxes, I easily found the shadows concealed me from the prying eye returning to the barge once the fire was over.

The barge, which was just a flotilla of smaller freight ships tied together with small walkways between them, was soon covered by four to five Blighters keeping a lookout for would-be thieves. I smiled as I made my way to the end farthest from the docks, knowing they were looking in the wrong direction.

Across the way, I heard what could've been mistaken for a bird but was Jacob's shrill whistle letting me know he'd reached the opposite end of the barge and was about to light the explosives there. Stepping up my pace, I made it to the location he'd pointed out held a large box on munitions that would help accelerate the destruction. Taking one of the two sticks of dynamite out of my overcoat, I roughly jammed it under the crate.

He'd assured me that the fuse would give me the time needed to escape before it blew up but looking at it I worried the ten seconds wouldn't be enough time and tried to think of a way to extend it so I could make it back to the dock.

"Look what we have here," I heard a Blighter yell from the docks, causing everyone to turn in his direction. "A Rook in the nest."

The bald man held Rupert by the scruff of the neck in front of him. Poor Rupert had been attempted to cut the ropes that held the barge to the docks to ensure that no one was hurt during the explosion. Now, as his feet dangled while he fought to make the much larger man drop him, he was a captive of the Blighters.

"Snap his neck," the Blighter closest to me called over to her comrade, causing me to cringe. "Make 'em piss his self."

"Dammit!" I whispered, knowing full well they intended to kill him. Before I could stop myself, I lit the fuse and stood up. "Yo, assholes. Why don't you pick on somebody your own size?"

Nine, I mentally counted down as I rushed forward. Eight.

"Who the hell's that?" One yelled.

"Another fucking Rook!" Another answered.

Seven.

"Cut her down!" Shouted a third.

Six.

A shot rang out following in quick succession by several more. Blighters started to fall as bullets from the other barge and the rooftop cleared the path ahead of me to run.

Five.

Confused by the assault, the Blighter began to wildly return fire. The screams of the wounded mingled with bewildered calls trying to verify where the Rooks' shots were coming from.

Four.

I dropped to the desk when something hot grazed my upper ear. Noticing the Blighter who'd recommended killing Rupert running right at me, her gun shaking as she tried to take aim at me.

Three.

Given the choice between being shot and drowning in the Thames, I tried to figure out which was the safest best for survival just as another bullet tore through my sleeve, almost hitting my arm.

Two.

The bullet scared me much more than the water. I leaped to my feet, took a deep breath, and dove into the water.

One.

The explosion sent a shockwave through the cold river, forcing me deeper underneath even as I tried to reach the surface. Being so close to the epicenter, debris rained down around me, pushing me further away in what felt like a whirlpool.

My head popped up for an instant and I tried to take in as much air as possible before being dragged down again, but the breath was topped off by a mouthful of rancid water. Panic overtook reason as my lungs began to burn. Fighting, I tried to reach the light from the flames but was pulled down again by the weight of my clothes.

"Help!" I tried to scream when my head popped up again only to go down again. For a second, I thought I saw Jacob's green eyes filled with fear, but the lack of oxygen made me too lightheaded to be sure.

Before I could lose conscientiousness, I thought I felt something shoving me to the surface. It took only a second for me to realize that I was being pulled, not shoved, to the surface by a pair of strong arms that wrapped around my chest and pulled my head above the water.

Choking, I tried to push the water out of my lungs while simultaneously drawing in as much air as possible.

"Thank God," I hear Jacob whisper as he towed me through the water toward a darkened corner of the docks a short distance from the explosion.

"Four." I managed to say between coughs.

He held onto me as he pulled us out of the water. Panting, he collapsed next to me on the ground and asked, "What?"

"How many… times…" I gasped, hacking up the last of the water. "You've… save me."

He stared at me before bursting into laughter. Gathering me in his arms, we both laughed until Martha, Rupert and Dan found us.

"Should we leave them to it?" Martha asked with a sly grin.

Jacob got up and helped me to my feet, his arms wrapped around me as he smiled at his gang members. "Seems the Blighters won't be seeing their supplies for quite some time."

"You're bleeding, Gwen." Dan pointed to my ear, causing me to reach up and gingerly touch it.

"I think I got clipped by a Blighter." I smiled proudly. "My first war wound."

"Ah, just a chip off the ol' teapot," Martha tease, her grin infectious and causing everyone to smile.

"Aye, Miss Gwen." Rupert patted my back and pointed toward the burning barge. "Well worth it. They'll remember the Rooks."

"Not thanks to you, meater." Dan grumbled.

"Run ahead and tell Evie Gwen needs the gift I have for her," Jacob ordered before they could start arguing. He handed Rupert a wad of soaked bills. "Meet us at the Thistle in an hour."

"And get the owner to have a bath ready for me," I called as he started to leave. When he glanced a Jacob for permission, I nudged him. "I really need one."

With a nod, Rupert ran from sight. Jacob then turned to Martha and Dan. "Go tell the others. Tonight, we celebrate another job well done."

Once they were also gone, Jacob pulled me into his arms. I didn't resist as he held me in silence for a long time. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I gave in to the comfort of his body and snuggled close.

"I thought I'd lost you," he whispered, placing several kisses along my forehead.

"But you saved me." I buried my face in his chest, taking in his scent. "You always do."

"Gwen." He tilted my head back so I was looking into his deeply troubled eyes. "I know I told you I wouldn't ask again, but I can't keep myself from wanting to care for you. Please, darling, say you'll be mine."

"Jacob, I care about you." I felt like I was drowning again as I stared into his pleading eyes. "Don't look at me like that."

"When you disappeared, I felt like I was dying." He ran his hand along my cheek. "I've never felt this way before. I need you."

My eyes welled up. I'd been fighting this attraction since the day I kissed him, but the confession that he felt the same way was too much of an emotional strain. Seeing the sincerity in his eyes and hearing the truth in his words, the floodgates broke. I buried my face in his chest and sobbed softly against his exposed chest while he gently stroked my back.

"I'm sorry, Gwen," he whispered. "I never meant to hurt you. I just needed you to hear the truth in case there's never another chance."

"You didn't hurt me." I looked up at him. The pain on his face cause another wave of tears, but I was determined to fight them off until I spoke my peace. "In the short time we've known each other, you've made me happier than I've ever been. I want to be with you, I really do, but we know I'm here on borrowed here."

"All our time is limited, my love." He smoothed back my hair, which had fallen in a sopping mess across my forehead. "We're born, we live, we die. We'll all meet the undertaker sooner than we'd like, but I ask you to consider that, even for the briefest time we have together, can't we make the best of it? Can you open your heart to me?"

I smiled. "We don't have time for a formal courtship if that's what you're thinking."

He smiled down at me. "Would you accept an invitation for a stroll through a park or a Sunday ride in the country if I asked?"

"When you've nearly gotten me killed?" I rolled my eyes playfully. "How boring."

"I thought you'd say that."

I sighed. "I know I'm about to sound crazy since I'm the one pointing out I'm leaving, but can we take things slow and see where it leads?"

"Whatever makes you happy." He took off his coat, which was nearly dry, and wrapped it around me with a smile. "To keep out the chill, of course."

"Of course," I repeated, remembering the first time his scent enveloped me. Taking his arm when he offered it, I stole quick glances at him as we strolled along. "You know, this is kind of nice; just being alone together like this."

He nodded. "If only every moment could be like this."

"They can be." Once we were outside the pub, I turned to him and remarked, "But you'd hate it and so would I. You're going to set the world on fire and make them remember your name. You're immortal, Jacob Frye."

"And I'd give it all up just to be with you."

"But you know I wouldn't ask." I smiled. "Because that's who you are, and I love that about you."

Mr. Frye, Miss Gwen!" Rupert called before he could respond. Nearly winded, he smiled at us nevertheless. "We've been waiting for you. Your bathe's ready upstairs and the room's yours for the night. No charge."

"Thank God!" I let out a long-suffering sigh as he handed over the room key. "I don't know how y'all stand it not showering every day. I'm going to get some alcohol and clean rags for my ear. Be back shortly."

"Showering, Mr. Frye?" I heard Rupert ask as I went to speak with the barkeep.

"Must be something American." He replied, only a few steps behind me. After speaking to the keep, he slid in behind me and playfully took the key from my pocket. "Let me go first."

I pouted. "Then the water'll be cold when I get in. Besides, don't y'all believe that women get pregnant bathing after men or something?"

"Darling, your innocence in truly lovely." He tapped the tip of my nose with the key. "Won't be long. Promise."

I frowned. "All right but hurry up. I need to get the taste of the Thames out of my mouth."

"Rupert, my lad, get Miss King something to drink and keep her warm until I return."

Rupert's eyes widened in terror. "Beg your pardon, sir?"

"Now, don't you think you'd be better off upstairs with me?" Jacob teased before giving poor, sweet Rupert a stern look. "A seat by the fire for Miss King and a drink. Now."

"Stop being mean to Rupert." I scolded. "And hurry up. My water's getting cold."

"We could always share the bath if you prefer." He smirked. "I'll wash your back if you'll… Well, washing isn't exactly what I had in mind."

"Go away, Jacob Frye." I shoved him toward the stairs and turned to join the other Rooks by the fire listening to Rupert tell them about our latest adventures while I cleaned my prized wound as best I could. Secretly, though, I was considering what it'd be like to be upstairs with Jacob in a nice, hot tub.

Shortly before midnight, I decided to turn in and forego the bath I was looking forward to. It'd been a long day and my muscles ached from the exertion. I went upstairs and politely knocked on the door.

"Jacob," I called softly but hearing no response, I worried he might've fallen asleep in the tub and tried the doorknob. It opened easily, increasing my concern for him. Stepping in, but keeping my eyes downcast I called him again, "Jacob, is everything okay?"

When he didn't answer, I looked around. The room was immersed in the soft light of several candles surrounding a large copper tub set in the middle filled with steaming water coated in a thin layer of what looked like rose petals. On the dresser under the window was a set of clothes I'd never seen before. A black with green trimmed leather and velveteen bodice sewn together with gold thread, matching dark green pants and a white shirt with a rook embossed on it were laid out like a fine work of art just above a pair of knee-high boots also in black with gold stitching. I couldn't help but walk over to it and run my fingers along the fabric, savoring the firm but soft feel of the beautiful garments.

The sound of the door closing caused me to jump. Turning around, Jacob stood there dressed in a freshly pressed pair of trousers and a long sleeve shirt opened to his chest, an impish smile on his face as he turned the key in the lock.

"Now, what do we have here?" He teased as he methodically walked toward me. "A lady should never enter a man's room. But I think for you, Miss King, I'll make an exception."

"I was worried when you didn't answer me." I backed up slightly, my heart pounding excitedly. I felt like a deer being stalked by a tiger and it thrilled me. "I wanted to make sure you were okay. I'll leave if you want."

"No, you won't." I could barely breath when he was finally standing only a few inches from me. I was enthralled, terrified and elated all at the same time. "My dear, you look like a drown rat."

I rolled my eyes. "Thank you, Mr. Frye. I feel so much better about myself now."

His smile only widened. "Even looking the way you do, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

I lowered my eyes, feeling the blush I knew he saw.

"Oh, but when you look like that, I believe in heaven again." He ran his hand along my cheek. "I believe you've stolen my heart, Gwen King."

I wanted him at that moment and refused to stop myself again. Leaning forward to kiss him, he laughed. Shocked and a little embarrassed, I asked, "What?"

"You really do need a bath, darling." Tenderly, he turned me around to face the tub. "Now, let's get you cleaned up."

Slowly, he slid his overcoat down my arms and let fall to the floor. Once again, my heart raced as he repeated with my coat and vest. His strong hands ran the length of my arms as he traced the seam of my shirt.

"Jacob," I all but moaned as he leaned against me and inhaled deeply. "Please, don't stop."

"You nearly died tonight. I don't think any more exertion would be good for you. As much as it pains me, the only thing I want for you is to rest." He kissed the back of my head. "I'll be back shortly."

"Where are you going?" I whined, not wanting to let him out of my sight. "And I'm fine now. Please, I want to be with you."

"And you will be. All night long." He groaned as he held me from behind, letting me know it was just as hard on him as it was for me. "But I want to be sure you're up to snuff before we… continue our activities. Tonight, I want to take care of you."

I nodded but hated myself for agreeing. Even the way he said it made it appealing. "All right."

"That's my darling." He placed another quick kiss on my head then turned to leave. "Now, get in before the water goes cold."

After he was gone, I peeled off my dirty clothes and practically dove into the hot water. I couldn't help but sigh as I leaned back, relishing the warmth surrounding me and easing my exhausted body. Reach out for the small rag he'd left next to the tub, I found a small sliver of lavender scented soap inside it. Grateful for the small luxury, I scrubbed away the filth of the Thames for a long time before I felt satisfied with my cleanliness. After that, I lounged in the milky colored water with my eyes closed and let it erase the tension.

"May I come in?" He asked as he opened the door holding a pitcher and basin with what I assumed were towels spread across his shoulder.

I slid down in the water, covering myself for modesty sake. "I'm still in the tub, Jacob."

"I know." He quickly locked the door behind him and made his way over to me. Kneeling behind my head, he rested his hands on my shoulders and kissed my crown. "Lay your head back, darling."

I did as he instructed as he placed his hand against my forehead and eased my head back until my neck was resting on the lip of the tub. My hair, which I'd kept pulled back in a simple ponytail, spilled over the side in front of him.

"You have the most beautiful hair." Cupping his hands, he gathered a handful of water from the tub and poured it down the length. "It reminds me of chestnuts roasting on the fire."

I giggled at the close reference to the holiday classic that had yet to be written when he began to massage the soapy water through my hair. My toes literally curled as he diligently worked his way from my scalp to the ends removing any dirt and debris with the skill of a master. Even the cooled water wasn't enough to put out the flames burning inside me. I could barely stifle a moan as he slowly poured the pitcher over my hair to rinse out the soap.

He rose and held up the cloth towel he'd returned with. "Stand up."

"Close your eyes first," I teased.

With a grin, he shut them as I get out. Stepping into the warmth, he lovingly wrapped it around me and opened his eyes. Leading me to the bed, he sat me down on the edge and stepped away to retrieve a hairbrush I hadn't noticed next to my new clothes. Again, he took care to remove any knots or tangles with a firm but adoring hand that made me melt into him. When he was finished, he placed a tiny kiss on my bare shoulder.

"There's a nightgown on the dresser." He kissed my shoulder a second time followed by a quick nibble. "Go put it on."

I got up while he busied himself with getting the bed ready. He slipped out of his shirt but kept his pants on as he scooted to the far side of the bed and watched me. Carefully, I slipped the floor length gown over my head and, once comfortably sure I was covered, yanked the twist I'd made in the towel free and let it drop on the floor.

"Impressive, Miss King." He raised his eyebrow with a smirk. "I was curious how you'd manage."

I twirled around for him. "You like?"

"No." He patted the empty space beside him on the bed. "Come to bed now."

I eased in beside him on the tiny bed. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me even closer. Rolling onto my side so I could face him, I looked into his eyes and admired how beautiful he was.

"I hope the dawn never comes," he whispered as he tucked my hair behind my ear.

"Can't have the darkness without the dawn." I smiled as I reached out and ran my finger along the scar on his cheek. "Thank you for tonight. I don't know how you managed, but I'm grateful."

"Magical technology." He winked. "And an innkeeper who appreciates a crown or two."

I snuggled close and listened to his heartbeat until I was too drowsy to keep my eyes open any longer. Before I dozed off, I said, "Sweet dreams, Mr. Frye."

"They already are, Miss King."

I slowly opened my eyes, cherishing the softness of Jacob's body next to mine. With my head still on his chest and his arm wrapped around my shoulder, I felt like I was in the safest place in the world. I started to look up at him and wish him good morning when his hand flew around my neck and covered my mouth. Startled awake by his reaction, I stared at him in confusion. His eyes quickly darted to my face before shaking his head; letting me know I needed to be quiet. A second later, I noticed his gun pointed at the door of our room followed by raised voices coming from the pub below.

"Stay here," he ordered in a whisper, finally letting me go.

"What's going on?" I asked, keeping my voice as low as his.

"Someone's robbing the pub." He slowly got out of bed then opened the door to check the hallway, which was surprisingly empty despite the commotion below. With a quick glance back at me, he repeated, "Stay here."

"Be careful."

He shot me one of his trademark smiles and crossed his heart before darting out. More afraid for him than of what might happen if I ignored his order, I got out of bed as quickly but as quietly as I could. Putting on the clothes he'd gifted me, I started to follow him but paused to grab the blade he'd given me. Taking a deep breath to calm myself, I bolted out as well. Once halfway down the stairs, my heart stopped. Jacob was surrounded by six men, all closing in to attack him at once.

The next moments happened so quickly I barely registered them. First, one of his blades easily flew from his side before becoming embedded in the eye socket of one of the men. Blood sprayed as the blinded man fell backward onto the floor. Next, a bullet flew through the face of another man, bloody skull splinters scattering like dice on the floor.

Two men attacked him at once after he dispatched their comrades. He rapped the top of one's head with his cane hard enough to send him to his knees while unsheathing the hidden blade and plunging it deep into the chest of the other man. Turning quickly, he used the knife again to open the throat of the kneeling man before aiming a final shot at the man furthest from him. The bullet hit true and dropped him dead almost instantly.

"Gwen!" Jacob yelled as the last robber ran up the stairs, rushing headlong into me. When the man reached out to push me aside, I drove my knife deep into his belly. He grabbed my shoulders, his dark brown eyes bulging from shock. I felt a warm liquid slide down my hands and looked to see his blood covering them; its sickening thickness causing me to pull my hands away, leaving my blade in his stomach.

"I told you to stay in our room," Jacob snapped, ripping me from the robber's hands and shoving him down the stairs. "Are you all right?"

"I…I…" I stammered as my nostrils filled with the nauseating scent of blood. My vision started to blur and darken as I tried to speak again. "I…"

Then everything went dark.

I opened my eyes slowly. There was a moment of confusion before I imagined the robber's face, contorted in pain and disbelief, in front of me. The memories of what happened instantly came back to me and I bolted upright with a scream.

"It's all right, Gwen. You're safe." Evie said in an unusually tender tone as she grabbed my shoulders and tried to lay me down again. "You collapsed at the pub and Jacob brought you back to the train."

"Evie." I watched her face blur as tears welled up in my eyes. "Oh my god! Evie, I've done something terrible. That man, the robber, I…I…"

"You defended yourself." She smoothed back my hair. "And now you're safe. Just rest."

"No…I can't…" I struggled with my words as I kept seeing the dying face of a robber in front of me. "I didn't mean to. Oh, god! His eyes… Evie, his eyes!"

My stomach convulsed, igniting repeated heaving. She grabbed a bucket and held it under my chin while I emptied what felt like every meal I'd had since I arrived there. After what seemed like hours but was really only a few minutes, I lifted my head and fell back onto the sofa.

Still sitting beside me but pushing the bucket as far from us as possible, she rubbed my shoulders. "I'm so sorry Jacob dragged you into this. I can't imagine what you must be thinking. Please, forgive us, Gwen."

"I knew who y'all were from the second we met." I forced a smile. "You work in the shadows to protect the light."

"But that was out choice; not yours." She rose and paced in front of me. "You should've never been involved. Jacob's recklessness has drawn you into his madness and it's unconscionable."

"Like I said, I knew." When she came close, I reached out and grabbed her hand. When she turned to me, I could only shrug. "You guys are heroes to me and I thought I could be just like y'all, but I'm not an assassin. I'm just a coward."

"You're not a coward." She patted my hand. "It takes more strength to admit weakness than to deny it. I pray my brother understands that sooner rather than later."

"He will. I know it." I sat up and looked around, wondering why he wasn't there. "Where is he, anyway?"

She rolled her eyes. "Who knows? His capacity for transgression is boundless."

I chuckled. "That's part of what I love about him."

I looked up at Evie when I realized what I'd said, her shocked expression a mirror of my own.

You love Jacob?" She took a seat beside me. "Do you know if he feels the same?"

"Yeah. I'm pretty sure he does." I buried my face in my hands. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I promise I didn't."

"It seems the heart won't be denied no matter how hard we try." She sighed. "You know you have my blessings, of course. One word of warning. Be careful with Jacob. His anger masks a very scared man still finding his way."

"I'm just as scared. I didn't want to get so close to him, but he's part of me now." I smiled. "Just like you."

She smiled as well. "Then perhaps you'll be a good influence on him."

Happy to change the subject to something other than death and my relationship with Jacob, I commented, "Like you are on Henry Green?"

She turned away as she blushed. "Has it been that obvious?"

"Only to somebody who's seen this road before. And trust me, the feeling is totally mutual. He's so into you it's not even funny. Doesn't hurt he's cute as a button too."

She smiled. "He is handsome, isn't he?"

"Girl, yes! That accent and those bedroom eyes." I pretended to swoon. "If he didn't already have his heart set on a certain Frye twin, I'd tap that."

She laughed. "I feel I should be offended, but I really have no idea what you said."

Sitting up straighter, I tried to mimic a posh British accent. "Miss Frye, I believe that Mr. Green is enamored with only one lady and, dare I say, it's the Lady Frye herself. However, were he not completely devoted to you and I not to your beloved brother, I would make every attempt to mount and ride that stallion all night long."

By the time I was finished, she was almost falling over in a fit of laughter. Tears ran down her cheeks as she held her side. "Good God, Gwen. Your English is horrendous."

"I also do a horrible German, but I spit too much when I do." I patted her hand. "Thank you, Evie."

Wiping her face with her free hand, she replied, "I should thank you. I've never had someone I could speak with about these sorts of things. Jacob and Father were… uncomfortable with it."

"Sorry to tell you this, but it doesn't get any better in the future." We giggled just as there was a soft knock at the car door. Turning to see who it was, I watched Evie's smile widened when she saw Henry before waving him in and whispering, "Anytime you want to talk, let me know."

Her smile let me know she appreciated the gesture. "Good afternoon, Mr. Green."

"Miss Frye." His eyes never left her even as he acknowledged me. "Gwen."

"Always a pleasure to see you, Henry." I shot her a sly wink. "Any news on my wheel?"

"I'm afraid not." He held a notebook to his chest. "Perhaps a trip to Bodiam Castle is in order."

I nodded. "Good idea. Once London's safe, though."

"A wise decision." He adjusted the book. "However, I have found some additional information on the Shroud."

"That's my cue to leave." I stood and headed for the door he held open for me. Pausing beside him, I placed my hand on his shoulder. "Don't be such a stranger, Henry. It's always a pleasure to see you… And those eyes."

Before either of them could comment, I shut the door and made my way to the other car used by the Rooks. Thankfully, it was empty, giving me time to sit down and think about what had happened. Looking down at my clean hands, I was grateful the blood was gone. Whoever rinsed them must've been concerned I'd be upset if I woke up with them still smeared with another human being's blood.

It had to have been Jacob.

I closed my eyes and tried to drive the guilt away, but the taking of another life was devastation and I could still see his eyes pushing almost out of his skull as the knife plunged into him. While I knew Evie was right that my actions were justified, it didn't take away the remorse for what I'd done. It didn't matter that he would've killed me. The fact that I'd killed ate me up inside.

I couldn't understand how it was so easy to accept we have that power over others. We weren't Gods; we didn't deserve to make the choice of ending a life because it hadn't been ours to give. What I'd done made me feel like a monster and I hated it.

I thought about Evie and Jacob. They were assassins. The name alone meant that they were forced to hurt others. However, they did it to save humanity from an existence of slavery. What they did was because it was necessary; not because they wanted to. Like a soldier in battle, they didn't take pleasure in the task but accepted it was a task that needed to be done. They accepted the guilt because they knew it was the only way.

I suddenly felt like such a coward. The fact that I couldn't get over this meant that I didn't have the fortitude to try and save the world like they did. I was just a weakling who would rather be compliance than do what's hard to make things better.

Jacob deserved someone better than me. He deserved someone who could stand beside him and fight the villains that would suppress truth and goodness. He needed a follower player and not an NPC.

I realized it was time I remembered my place and stop trying to force my square peg into their round hole. Staring out the window as Victorian England slowly chugged passed it, I no longer regretted the life I'd taken but the one I'd tried to fit into.

"Oh, Jacob," I whispered into the gloomy English afternoon air. "I'm so sorry."

I went to bed that night without seeing Jacob again. Laying alone, I couldn't help but miss the feel of his body pressed against mine. His warm skin was like a protective shield that kept me safe even in my dreams and I missed being beside him; knowing he'd be there when I opened my eyes again.

When he didn't return the following day, I was beside myself. I couldn't keep myself from jumping every time a door opened, hoping it'd be him standing there with that arrogant smirk and a lewd comment that made me blush. He'd become a fixture in my life I didn't know how to function without. While I tried to keep my façade, I knew by the way everyone around me kept conversations light and cheerful I was a clear mess.

By the second day and no word, I was stark raving mad. With Evie and Henry following leads on the Shroud, I tried to be of some use to Agnes. Of course, she wanted nothing to do with me when she realized how little use I was. Talking to the other Rooks who came and went only ended with me demanding to know if they'd heard or seen Jacob and getting angry when they hadn't. I needed to get out, but more than that I needed to see Jacob and find out why he was avoiding me.

"I'm going to the Thistle," I told Evie when she and Henry returned, not even noticing the concern clearly written on their faces. "I'll be back late so don't wait up."

"He'll return when he's done brooding," Evie said, trying to soothe me. "He's just angry with himself for what happened."

"I'm the one who should be angry," I snapped, not intending to be rude. I took several deep breaths, trying to calm myself, then continued. "I'm sorry for being irritable, but if he cared about me he'd be here making sure I'm okay. He's being childish and I'm going to call him out on it."

"Evie's right, Gwen," Henry offered in his ever-patient way. "Jacob will be back soon."

"Well, I'm tired of waiting for him." Throwing on my coat and Jacob's top hat, which he'd left behind, I turned to leave. "I'll stay safe. I promise."

Getting off at the station, I made my way through the cool afternoon streets until I was standing outside the pub where he'd faced down the robbers. The images of men being killed, including the one I'd killed, flashed in my mind. Still, I refused to be dissuaded from my mission. If Jacob Frye was in there, I was going to find him and, for once, we were going to talk.

"Oi, Chip!" Martha called, waving me over as soon as I walked in. "Come join us."

I forced a smile and pushed through the crowded pub, acknowledging the other Rooks who were there. I could almost smell the blood spilled on the floor but reminded myself that what I was doing was more important than the memories of what happened.

"Heard ya bested the Blighter again," Rupert announced as he pulled up a chair and handed me a mug. "Dirty bastards."

I took a long drink, using the liquor to calm my shakiness. "I was just there. Jacob did all the work."

"Aw, ya too modest, Miss Gwen." He patted my back. "Heard ya gutted 'um like a fish."

"And stopped them from burning the place to the ground," Martha added.

I shrugged. "Like I said, Jacob did all the work."

"Then to Mr. Frye." She raised her mug. "The hero of every man. May he always have the biggest whore-pipe there is."

Martha!" Rupert scolded.

She lowered her eyes, embarrassed. "Sorry, Gwen."

"It's all right. I'm not the whore he's piping." When they laughed, I raised my mug. "She's right, though. To Jacob."

"To Jacob!" They cheered, smashing their mugs together and drinking them down.

"By the by, Miss Gwen, where's Mr. Frye been? Haven't seen him." Dan, who was also there with Martha and Rupert, asked.

I shrugged and stared down into my mug, trying to hide my breaking heart. "Don't know. I haven't seen him since the night the pub got robbed."

After a long silence, Rupert playfully clapped the table and stood up. "Well, then. Since he ain't here, I can have that dance. C'mon, Miss Gwen."

As he pulled me to my feet, I shook my head. "But I don't know how."

"Ah, don't be a thornback." He teased, playfully pulling me into the starting position. "Just follow me."

Giving in, I let him lead me around to the music for several dances until I was too winded to go on. Thanking him and relieved he'd lifted my mood somewhat, I sat down again as he tried to talk Martha into a dance. His insistence resulted in a lot of profanity and a threat to chop off his ballocks before he gave up. I couldn't help but laugh and enjoy the company of the Rooks I considered to be close friends, giving up all my anger and frustration for the sake of them.

I was listening to Rupert tell a story about his mother and father that had us all laughing hysterically when I felt like I was being watched. Turning to the door, I noticed the cloaked assassin standing there. His eyes were invisible under his hood and I could barely make out the stern look on his face, but I knew exactly who it was.

Instantly, he was gone and for a second I thought I'd imagined the whole thing. Still, I got up, bid goodnight to my friends, and went after him. Just outside the door, I caught sight of him a walking away at a quick but completely trackable pace. I followed, close enough to see him but not near enough to ensure if I called out he'd hear me. After about a block, he stopped at an intersection and waited until I caught up.

"Hey, you." I said cheerfully when I was behind him. "Where have you been?"

"Do you still want to go to Bodiam Castle?" He asked, his tone oddly emotionless, as he continued to face forward as if looking for something.

I laughed nervously. "Of course."

"Then be ready at first light." He started to leave. "Good night."

"Jacob, wait." I caught his arm, causing him to stiffen under my touch. "I'm not angry anymore. Can we talk, please?"

"There's nothing to discuss." He lowered his head. "You were right all along. You don't belong here."

"So that's it then?" Anger outweighed the tears I felt gathering and I fed on it and spit it back out on him. "You decide and I just go along with it? We're done then. Is that it? Because Jacob Frye says so."

"You don't understand."

"Like hell I don't!" I shouted, slapping his back when he wouldn't turn around and face me. "You're a bigger coward than I am. Not willing to face up to the person you said you care about for what? Because you saw me pass out? That's so much bullshit."

"I wronged you, Gwen. I won't let that happen again." He jerked his arm, which I hadn't even realized I was still holding, away. "I'm sorry."

"What are you talking about? You haven't done anything to me. You saved me. Can't you see that? And because of that, I…" I bit my lip, fighting the words that still tumbled out. "I love you."

"How can you?" He finally turned to look at me with those stormy green eyes that washed away the anger and brought tears to mine. "I'm not worthy of your love."

"Where the hell is this coming from?" I demanded.

"When we stopped the robbery, I watched you shatter when you –" He stopped. "I took your innocence. It's unforgivable."

"Oh, shut up." I wrapped my arms around his neck and drew him close. In response, he seized my waist and pressed our bodies together until I couldn't tell where he ended and I began. I covered his cheek with kisses as he buried his face in my neck. "You could never hurt me. You were protecting innocent people from the bad guys. What happened wasn't your fault. It was an accident and I can live with that."

"I couldn't live with myself if I caused you any pain." He tightened his embrace. "The look on your face…"

"Proves I'm not cut out to do what you do." I raised his head and pressed our forehead against each other. "You protect the world and I'm just lucky to be in it with you. You're a hero and I'm blessed to love someone as wonderful as you. And I do love you, Jacob Frye. I've loved you since the first time I kissed you and I think I'll love you for the rest of my life."

"Gwen, I –"

"Don't." I pressed my finger to his lips. "Don't say it back. Let's just go for a walk."

"In the park, perhaps?" He teased, the sorrow slowly replaced by a smirk I adored.

"Wherever you want just as long as we're together."

Lacing our fingers together, I led us down the street away from the noise of the pubs to the relative quiet of the evening. The subdued sounds were unusual for the busiest of the city and I moved closer to him for comfort.

He chuckled as he slipped his arm across my shoulder. "Scared of the dark?"

I bristled but didn't pull away. "Of course not. I'm with the most dangerous man in this city. The only thing I need to be afraid of is…" I trailed off.

"Me?" He stopped and looked into my eyes. "Are you afraid of me, Gwen?"

"Yes," I confessed. "But not because of who you are or what you do. I'm afraid of how you make me feel. That I'll never feel this way again."

"C'mon." He grabbed my hand and pulled me into a nearby alleyway.

"Stop dragging me around," I chided, letting myself get caught up in his enthusiasm anyway. Finally, he stopped between two nondescript buildings. "Where are we going?"

Without answering, he pulled me into his side, causing me to gasp from the sudden heat emanating from his body pressed so close to mine.

"Put your arms around me." He whispered, a twinkled in his eyes. Once Id wrapped my arms around his neck, he looked up as if gauging something before raising his free hand which carried his bracer.

"Jacob, no," I begged only seconds before we were propelled through the air. With barely enough time to bury my face in his chest, we soared through the night to the rooftop. The momentum of our ascent kept us going until our feet touched solid ground a short distance from the edge. My heart was pounding when he released. I staggered forward before righting myself; the rush of adrenaline crashing into me once I realized I was safe causing me to laugh.

"That was awesome!" I threw my arms around his neck again before I could stop myself. Panting, I looked into his eyes as our faces drew closer. Afraid, I quickly let go and turned away from him to admire the view. "You can see everything from up here."

"That's how I saw what was happening with the Blighters," he said matter-of-factually. "The night we met."

"You know, I never properly thank you for that." I turned to him, his eyes now cast in shadow from his hood. "Thank you, Jacob."

He shrugged, seeming unusually submissive. "I couldn't very well let you get hurt. You were innocent."

"Were?" I teased.

He smirked. "Relatively speaking, of course."

"It's so beautiful up here." I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to block out the chill. "I wish I could stay here forever."

"You don't have to leave." He voice was barely a whisper, but it carried across the rooftop louder than a yell.

"I wish that were true, but I have to go home. I don't belong here. You and I both know that."

"Would you stay? If we'd met under different circumstances." He crouched next to me as I sat down and tried to make myself comfortable. "If you weren't from the Twenty-first century and you were just another lady. Would you stay?"

I didn't even have to think about it. "Yes."

"Do you want to stay?"

I looked across nineteenth-century London. The smoke from the factories left a gray haze across the moon, fracturing the light into a million beams that spread like the haze itself. I could hear the steamships on the Thames, their deep baritone horns still calling out occasionally even so late at night. Beyond that, I could see houses, pubs and the lives of a million people who had been so much like me before my adventure began. Now, they – and my life before – seemed small and distant.

Still, it was what I knew and was comfortable. The idea of staying frightened me to the core not only because of what I'd left behind but because of what I could have.

Glancing over my shoulder, I gave him the most honest answer I could. "I need to go home."

"But what do you want?" He asked, more insistently.

"I want to go home." I lowered my eyes so he wouldn't see it was a lie. "Where I belong."

"Can't say I'm surprised." He sighed as he stared across the rooftops. "I suppose I'd feel the same way."

I looked up at him. "Are you disappointed?"

He shrugged. "Yes."

"Don't be. Be glad to be rid of me." I bumped my shoulder again his. "Nobody to take care of. Nobody getting in your way. Your life will be normal again. Relatively speaking."

He shrugged again. "I suppose so."

"Jacob." I reached out and placed my hand over his, causing him to finally look at me. The sadness in his eyes cut me to the quick. "If it were different, I'd stay with you forever. I promise I would."

He looked down at our joined hands then back up at me, his eyes resting fully on my lips before meeting mine. "We leave in the morning."

I nodded. "Only a few hours away."

"But tonight…" His voice deepened as he trailed off.

I licked my lips as my eyes darted between his lips and eyes. I knew what he was thinking, mainly because I was thinking the same thing, but knew we shouldn't. Leaving him would kill me if we crossed the one line we'd never gone over. I needed him to understand that the feelings I had would be solidified if we went any further.

"Jacob –"

He closed the miniscule distance between us as he pressed his mouth to mine. I could taste the whiskey as his tongue passed over my lips and invade me. I happily accepted as he intensified the kiss by wrapping my hair around his hand to draw me in deeper. His tongue grazed my teeth before caressing my pallet, causing me to let out a whimpering moan. Slowly, he drew back and rested our foreheads together with a sneer.

"I've wanted to do that for so long. Funny how it never seemed right until just now." His voice resonated against my skin, causing me to shutter. "But now that I've had a taste, I only want more."

"We shouldn't do this," I said even as my hands reached for the lapel of his coat. "It'll make it harder for me to leave."

He chuckled as he playfully nipped at my lower lips. "Seems only fair, darling. Since you make everything hard on me."

Catching his reference, I was about to scold him for being crude but his kiss silenced any argument I might've made. Slowly, he eased forward, causing me to lean back until I was laying on the rooftop staring up at him.

"Now, what do we have here?" He teased, leaning back on his heels to look me over. He held up his bracer and shot the blade up with a wicked grin. "A gift? For me?"

"Don't tease me." I managed in a breathless whisper as he eased the blade to the valley between my breasts. "I need you, Jacob."

He stared into my eyes, complete earnestness looked back at me. "I want you to remember no matter what happens, where we go from here, I never want you to shed a single tear because of me. I'd never hurt you. Do you trust me to keep my words?"

Without a moment's hesitation, I nodded. "I trust you."

He smiled as he took the tip of his blade and sliced through the corset bindings; the razor-sharp steel making little work of them. Please with himself, he grinned. "Much better. Now, where were we?"

I laughed as I reached for him. Grabbing the back of his neck, I pulled him in for another long kiss. Once again, his tongue pillaged my mouth and took what he wanted. With oue shared passions rising, I felt the air become stiflingly thick. Pushing out of my coat while our lips stayed locked, I felt himremoveg his as well. Outerwear fell beside us until we were only in our shirts and trousers. For a long time, we explored each other while still dressed.

He lowered his mouth, raking his teeth along my jaw as he let out a guttural grown that made me smile. Teasing, I pulled his hair to bring his face to mind. "Hungry, Jacob?"

He made a display of licking his lips, ending in a massive lip pop. "Famished, darling."

"Not yet." I propped myself on my elbows before sitting up so I could push him back. "First, dessert."

He seemed confused as I forced him down in front of me, but intrigued by my forthrightness. Placing his hands behind his head as he laid down, he watched as I slowly opened the first few buttons of his shirt before placing several kisses long his collar bone. Another guttural growl escaped his lips and, in the heat of the moment, he reached for my head to bring me back for another kiss.

"Not yet. Right now, I want to take care of you." I teased as I continued my descent along his chest, opening the path as I journeyed his body at a leisurely pace. When I finally reached his waist, I raised my eyes. Even in the low lighting, they were dark with need. Seeing him fighting for restraint, I gripped his belt and pulled it loose.

I felt his chest against my back as his lips grazed my shoulder, causing me to smile. "Again, darling?"

He growled as he bit me tenderly. "As if it's ever be enough."

I laughed. "You're insatiable. I don't know if I can keep up."

"I find that hard to believe. You're not less ravenous, my love." I felt pressure against my back that woke my own desires again. "And addictive."

"Dammit, Jacob. Why do you have to be so romantic?" I sighed, regretting what I was about to say. "But we should go back to the train. We're leaving in a few hours and I want to say goodbye to Evie."

"You don't have to." He kissed my neck. "You could stay here with us. With me."

"I wish I could, but we both know I need to go back to my world." I rolled over to face him, his overcoat the only thing protecting us from the elements, and playfully ran my fingernails through his coarse chest hair. "Or time. Or whatever it is."

"I know."

I forced a smile. "But I won't forget you, Jacob Frye. I love you and I always will."

He stroked my cheek, gently brushing my hair behind my ear. "My sweet, sweet Gwen. Losing you is killing me. How am I supposed to go on once you're gone? You're my air. You keep me alive."

"Don't say that." I sat up, taking his overcoat with me to maintain some level of modesty. Not that it really mattered. He'd spent the better part of the night carnally exploring every inch of my skin and showing his appreciation for pleasuring him. "We knew this was going to happen."

"But –"

I stopped him with a quick kiss before turning away to dress. The thought of his beautiful solid frame pressed against me made me flush all over again. I wanted him even more since we'd made love than when we'd kept our distance. He said I was addictive, but he was the only drug I wanted. I wanted to spend every moment we had left together and with as little between as we could manage.

Still, I knew my time was drawing to a close. If the wheel was real and at Bodiam Castle, I'd be returning to my normal life. No more Templars, no more mystical items, no more assassins.

No more Jacob, I thought, my heart breaking. Still, when I looked back at him I smiled. We didn't have a future, but I'd always have the memories of being with him and loving him completely.

At least, I hoped I would. If the wheel worked the same way it had when I arrived in Victorian London, I'd lose my memories for a time, but if I found the reminders of this time I could find them again. The idea of finding him again would be a pleasant surprise I'd cherish for the rest of my life.

"Don't hurry." He stood up, completely unashamed of his nakedness, and pulled me into his body again. "I want to remember seeing you undressed."

I laughed, loving how much he wanted me. "Mr. Frye, you're positively lewd. How is a lady supposed to respond to that?"

"No need to respond at all, my dear Miss King." His teeth sank into my shoulder, destroying any resolve I had. "Just give in to your carnal impulses. I promise not to disappoint."

"You never do, my love."

The skies were already turning gray when we made it back to the train, indicating another proper English day of rain. It seemed fitting since my mood was bittersweet as I quickly cleaned up and dressed for a day of travel while he checked on our passage to Bodiam Castle; a private coach that would take us to the castle and return for him in the morning.

When Evie finally woke, we said our goodbyes. I could see she was as hurt as I was by my leaving. Truthfully, I didn't think I'd find a friend as true as her and I nearly broke down in tears thinking about how much I'd miss her.

"I know it's only been a short time, but you are my dearest friend," she said softly while we embraced, her voice cracking from emotion. "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too. You're the strongest woman I've ever met." I smiled. "You're the reason women finally get the rights we do. Women like you are proof we're just a smart and strong as those apes we call men."

She laughed. "Aren't you afraid telling me this will change the future?"

I shook my head. "No because you've already changed it by just being so awesome, Evie Frye. Thank you for everything."

After one last hug, I left before breaking out into a fit of tears I knew I wouldn't be able to stop. I didn't think my heart could break anymore until Jacob offered to call on the Rooks to see us off. Thinking of my new friends who I'd never see again like Martha and Rupert, I couldn't help but wince.

"You don't want to see them?" He asked, apparently misreading my reaction.

"I do, but it's hard enough to leave already. Just let them know I went home and leave it at that." I stared out the window of the coach, wanting to be on our way so I could have a good cry in Jacob's arms. "And tell Rupert he's a wonderful dancer."

He chuckled. "He'll appreciate the compliment, I'm sure."

As we eased through the crowded streets, I watched nineteenth-century England pass with an overwhelming feeling of despair. I felt like I was leaving everything I loved instead of returning to the place that was supposed to be my home. The people and the city had become a part of me and leaving met I'd never have that again.

Of course, it wasn't just leaving London that broke my heart. In the short time I'd been with the Frye Twins, I'd come to adore them. Evie with her patient grace and Jacob with his passionate impulsiveness had become so important to me. I could imagine the hours Evie and I could spend discussing romance, mysteries and life like two best friends do. With Jacob, it was the thought of his tender but unrelenting touch taking me to oblivion I'd never experienced before yet still be a kind and compassionate man that cared for me so deeply. They competed me and, in some ways, I knew I did the same.

"Darling," Jacob whispered, his hand resting on mine. "What are you thinking?"

I let out a sad little chuckle. "I was wondering if my ear will heal when I get home. I really hope it'll still be missing. That way I can touch it and think of you."

He hauled me into his lap and kissed me, pressing his lips so firmly to mine I felt like he was taking all the wind out of my lungs. "Let me make love to you, Gwen. I want to keep your scent on me."

"Here? Now?" I closed my eyes as he traced the vein in my neck with his lips. "But the driver will hear us."

"As, yes. Roger. Lovely chap." He gave me that devilish smirk I'd fallen in love with before lowering his face to the valley of my chest. "Pity he's stone deaf."

"You planned this, didn't you?" I lifted his face to look at me. "You're a horrible man."

"I take that as the highest compliment from you, Miss King."

Afterward, I dozed to the rocking movement of the coach until we stopped at a tiny roadside inn for a quick meal. All the while, Jacob wrapped me in his arms and stole lingering kisses from wherever his lips reached at the moment. I didn't fight him even when I noticed other people murmuring. I wanted to be close to him at all times and imprint everything on my memory to keep him as long as I could. His hands, his eyes, his mouth; I needed to feel them so I could never forget what he meant to me. I needed to remember everything for those nights I was a million miles and a hundred years away.

When we finally reached Bodiam Castle, it was nearly dusk. The ruins looked the same as they had when I'd seen them in the twenty-first century, but upon closer inspection, I could see the years hadn't worn away as much of the history yet once we entered the courtyard. The structure was far more imposing than it had been before, making me feel small in comparison.

"What if it's not here?" I asked, turning to him in a panic. "What if I really am just crazy? What if –"

He cut me off with a kiss. Pressing my body against his, I tried to melt into his; to become part of his every breath and heartbeat. I never wanted him to let go.

"I love you, Gwen King." His words were hoarse and ragged, but I felt every one. Holding my face between his hands, he looked into my soul. "I always will."

"Couldn't help yourself, could you?" I laughed as a tear slid down my cheek. "I know. And you know I love you too."

"Forever."

I nodded. "Forever and ever."

Just as he gathered me in his arms again, the sky opened up and poured down on us. Jacob wrapped us in his coat, shutting out the rain. We stood there, our bodies intertwined and connected, until the rain subsided. Then, by the light of the full moon, I led him to the spot Helena had found the wheel.

"Your magical technology," he teased weakly. "I hoped it wouldn't be here."

"Me too." I clutched it in my hand. "When I opened it, I was in London. I think that's how it works. You have to touch it and think of the place you're going. I ended up with you when I was thinking about you."

"You wanted me before you knew me." He brushed my hair back with one hand as he rested the other over the wheel. "Open it, darling."

"I don't want to." I looked up at him pleadingly. "I can't live without you."

"I'll always be with you, Gwen." He tried to smile. "You're taking my heart."

He eased my hand open. Timidly, I pulled at the frayed string. The swatch fell open to reveal the hidden stone. I felt it vibrate in my hand, reminding me of a silenced cell phone. I knew all I had to do was touch it and I'd be home.

"Kiss me, Jacob." I wrapped my arms around his neck. "Please."

His mouth devoured mine, taking everything with it. As he drew me deeper in, I thumbed away the fabric and touched the stone.

The first the I noticed when I woke up was the smell; a mixture of antiseptic cleaners that only partially masked an overly sterilized environment and the distinct scent of human sickness that made my stomach turn.

Slowly, I opened my eyes to see a dimly lit hospital room. The sound of beeping monitors to my side drew my attention and I looked over to realize I was hooked to a number of hoses and monitors.

Where the hell am I?

Light poured into the room as the door opened and a petite nurse walked in, never looking at me as her pretty pixie looking face scowled at someone outside my line of sight.

"Oi, Nattie, ya should dump the bastard," she said to the unknown person. "'E ain't worth ya tears. After shift, we'll head to the pub. The best way to get over 'im is to ger under another."

"Excuse me," I tried to say, but the words came out hoarse and dry. Clearing my throat, I managed to speak up, "Excuse me, miss."

Dropping the items she carried, she let out a high pitched yelp then yelled, "Nattie, get the doctor. Miss King's wake."

Over the next several hours, I'd find out I'd been in an accident of some kind at Bodiam Castle, though no one really said what kind except to tell me that I'd collapsed. Thankfully, Bruce was there and called over Helena and Oliver. When Dr. Oliver Whitehead (Yes, the same Oliver Helena wanted to hit on because she could sniff out a doctor at a hundred yards) couldn't wake me I rushed to the closest hospital. Tests were done and exams performed, but physically nothing was wrong with me. The words "catatonic state" and "spontaneous catatonia" were thrown around, but since I had no history of mental or physical disorders, they weren't sure how to address it. I was still breathing, my heart kept a steady beat and they saw my brain was functioning, but I just wouldn't wake up. For three weeks, I was monitored and observed until the night the nurse walked in to find me awake and talking.

In the following days, Oliver ran even more tests and examined me from head to toe. Once again, I was completely fine with the exception of not remembering anything except Bruce asking me if I wanted to join them at the pub.

Three weeks of my life were gone with no memories of them. Still, I felt like I should remember something even if it didn't make sense why I felt that way. After all, I was unconscious the entire time. What was there for me to recall besides my eyelids.

"Well, Miss King, your recovery is just a mysterious as your illness." Dr. Oliver Whitehead, who'd been my attending physician, said late one evening when he came to check on me. "I expected, at the very least, some muscle deterioration, but the nurses told me you demanded to visit the loo on your own today."

I smiled, even though I didn't feel it. Since I'd woken up my entire attitude had been morose. Every day felt like I was missing something, which I chalked up to being so far from home all alone.

"When do you think I'll be able to go home?" I asked, thinking that may help me get over the depression.

He removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I think you'd be better staying for a little while longer. We wouldn't want you falling into another state over the Atlantic."

I nodded. "I guess so."

"Gwen," he said, sitting down on the edge of my bed. "Are you sure you're all right? I know we don't know each other well, but Helena said you were usually a very happy person."

"I guess so." I repeated with a shrug. "Just feeling a little out of sorts. Like something's missing."

He laughed as he got up to leave. "Don't worry. You'll be fine. For now, rest and relaxation. Doctor's orders."

I nodded my thanks but couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness inside. I knew I was missing something – some kind of loss that broke my heart but couldn't put my finger on it. It almost felt the same as when my parents died; the biting emptiness that shrouded me in sadness.

The shroud that they were looking for, I thought. The words confused me. I didn't know why that's come to mind. What shroud and who?

I got out of bed and searched through my tiny hospital room for my belongings. Helena had left England begrudgingly after her parents couldn't afford to send her any more money. I felt bad that my family was across the ocean worrying about me and wanted to let them know I was okay. Finding my suitcases and purse, I combed through both to find my cell phone to give them a call.

Helena probably took the wheel, I thought, remembering the stone wrapped in fabric in she's dropped in my purse. I didn't know why I called it a wheel. Did I see it before I passed out, I wondered as I dug through my oversized bag hunting it up instead of my cell phone.

I pulled the small pouch, no bigger than an egg, crammed in the very bottom of my purse. Pulling it out, I noticed the fabric, which looked like burlap, was open. Inside, a rough-cut gemstone stared back at me as if begging to be touched.

"One more thing, Gwen," Oliver said as he came back into the room.

The stone fell from its wrap when I jumped. I quickly grabbed it before it hit the floor and felt a zap like electricity shot through me. Like someone plugging a flash drive directly into my brain, every memory from the past three weeks rushed back to me in an instant. The power was overwhelming, and I crumbled to the ground from exhaustion.

"Gwen, are you all right?" Oliver asked, at my side in an instant. "What's that you have there?"

I closed my fingers around the stone and tried to smile at him. "I'm fine. Just a little dizzy."

He eyed me suspiciously; the same way Jacob, Evie and Henry had the first time I'd met each of them. He was assessing me as a threat. It made me smile to myself.

"What is that?" He asked more sternly. "Drugs?"

I chuckled. "No, Oliver. It's not drugs. It's just a stone Helena found at Bodiam Castle."

He sighed. "Gwen, stealing artifacts is a serious crime. Let me have it so I can turn it into the authorities. I won't mention how I came across it so you won't get into any trouble."

"Funny choice of words, my dear Dr. Whitehead." I smiled at him. "Artifacts are usually things of historical significates. This is just a dull little stone. Nothing historical about it, I think."

"It's not just a stone, Gwen."

My smile widened. "And how would you know that?"

His shifting glance was all the confirmation I needed. I stood, holding the wheel close to my heart as I walked to the window. Even in the glare of the city lights, I could still see the moon, full and fat like the night I left Jacob.

"I'll always be with you, Gwen. You're taking my heart." He'd said to me that night, but it was my heart that was with him and would stay there forever.

"You're about to sit down and listen to a story, Oliver." I said, seeing Jacob's face in the moonlight. "And you're going to tell me the truth about everything. Maybe I'm crazy, but I got a feeling that you and me are about to be partners on a grand adventure."

"I think you may be crazy, Gwen. But I'm willing to listen to whatever you have to say."

I heard a click like a buckle being fastened before he came to stand beside me. I looked down and at the sill where he rested his hand and smiled when I noticed the bracer.

"All right, Oliver. Let's start by discussing where I've really been for the past three weeks. Then you can tell me all about your little Creed and how it works in our world."

He chuckled. "Our world? What makes you think you've been somewhere else?"

"Haven't I been? After all, it's just a game, right?"

"Tell your story, Gwen, and I'll tell you mine."

"So…" I didn't know how to approach the subject of Oliver being an Assassin. It was like the entire world was a lie and I was seeing the truth for the first time. The new truth I was confronted with only led me to more questions than answers. Who were these people? Why were they here? Where they dangerous? Was I in danger? Could I trust them? "You guys are what? Terrorists or something?"

Oliver shot me a look that made me believe he could've killed me. "We prefer to use the phrase freedom fighters."

"And pirates prefer to be called privateers." I raised an eyebrow with a little grin, goading him. "Tomato, tomato?"

He laughed as he led me to what looked to be a warehouse. Opening the door, we came face to face with a reinforced steel wall with a single door in the middle. Next to it, he pressed several buttons on a keypad, opening it. He bowed his head slightly, "After you."

Drawing on my courage, I stepped through into the darkened room. The lights suddenly came on and I was a massive touchscreen laid out horizontally in front of what I could only assume was the biggest flat screen TV I'd ever seen.

"What is this?" I whispered in awe as my fingers glided across the touchscreen. I jerked my hand when it lit up, creating an interactive console. "Cool."

Oliver stepped around me and began pressing buttons on the console, causing the flat screen to turn on. After a few seconds, an image of us popped up on the screen covered partly by a phone receiver icon.

"Video chat?" I groaned, pretending to be unimpressed. "I figured you guys would have teleports or something."

"This is the real world, Gwen." Even with his back to me, I could see him roll his eyes on the monitor. Suddenly, a woman with short brown hair and blue-green eyes appeared on the screen. "Gwen King, allow me to introduce you to –"

"Hello, Bishop," I interrupted with a smile. "Pleasure to meet you. I gotta admit, I always figured you were just a Demi Moore rip-off."

She smiled back at me. "Nice meeting you too, Gwen. Let me be the first to welcome you back to the twenty-first century."

"Thanks, but not real thrilled to be here."

She nodded. "I can understand that. Oliver's already told me that you have the wheel."

I grinned a little wider thinking about our exchange in the hospital. "Yeah well. He showed me his first, so I figured why not? What do ya'll know about it?"

"Just a few notes in Henry Green's journals. He only said they were looking into it, but didn't have a solid lead." She laced her fingers together. "Gwen, we know what it can do, but there's nothing that tells us the how or why."

"I have no idea why, but I know that all I did was touch it and I was in nineteenth-century London. When Jacob and I found it again, I thought about home and poof! I was back."

"Have you tried it since you've been back?"

I lowered my eyes and nodded. "Yeah. At the hospital and again on the ride over. It's not working anymore for some reason. Do you think I broke it or something?"

"I don't know. Do you mind if Oliver runs some tests of it? Maybe we can figure out what's wrong with it."

I nodded. "That's fine, but I'd like to stay with it if I can. It's kind of important to me even if it doesn't work. Sentimental reasons."

"That's fine. Oliver, work with Gwen and see what you two can find out. In the meantime, I'll see if I can find any more information in the records. It'd help if we had more information from Jacob Frye's personal experience, but his memories only include the shroud."

"I'm not surprised since he only saw it once." My heart stung thinking about him. I missed him more than I realized. "If I remember anything, I'll let you know."

She nodded. "Okay. Thanks. Oh, and Gwen?"

"Yeah?"

"Welcome to the Creed."

The screen went black and Oliver began working on the console again.

"You're pretty calm about all this," he commented offhand, never looking up. "Considering you just found out everything you know is a lie."

I laughed. "I was just thinking that same thing. How am I going to go back to a regular life after this?"

He finally turned to look at me, his expression concerned. "Gwen, I thought you understood there is no going back now. The Templars will find out that you know about us and try to extract information for you. It's better if you stay with us."
I was shocked. After all the struggles to get back to the life I'd left behind, I couldn't even go back to it? "I'm not sticking around, Oliver. I'm just a normal person, not an assassin. I don't belong with y'all. You have to let me go home."

He lowered his eyes. "Helena and your aunt and uncle were notified this morning that you passed in the night. They asked you be cremated since they couldn't afford to have the body returned to the States for a proper burial. Gwen King is dead. I'm sorry."

"I'm…dead?" The words hit me like a fist, knocking the wind out of me. The room was suddenly claustrophobically tight around me and I felt dizzy. Finding the chair in front of the console, I sat down and tried to breathe. "But…but… Omigod!"

"I'm sorry, Gwen, but it's the only way to protect you." Oliver kept his distance, clearly uncomfortable with my emotional state. "Please understand. We're only trying to safeguard you the Templars."

"I didn't ask for your help!" I yelled, anger spilling over the panic. "I left the man I loved to come back to this life! It's what I thought I was supposed to do! Now you're telling me I can't even have that!"

"I'm sorry."

"Stop saying that!" I closed my eyes and took several deep breaths, trying to control the rage welling up inside me. "Look, y'all killed me off so bring me back to life."

"It's not that simple."

"Then send me back!" I stopped, realizing what I'd just asked. Why did I have to stay here when I could go back Victorian England and be with Jacob? Now that I was dead in my time, what did it matter if I was dead there or with the love of my life? "Oliver, I want to go back to the nineteenth century."

He shook his head. "I don't know."

"You owe me. You took away my life." Realizing that I was free to follow my own path, all the anger and fear disappeared. "The least you can do is give me the one thing I want and that to be with Jacob and Evie."

"If we can get the wheel working, we'll discuss it." He held out his hand. "But first, let's work on it."

I reached into my pocket and placed the stone in his hand, a new determination coming over me. "All right, but once it's working I'm going back."

"Like I said." He took it and turned back console. "We'll see."

Playing with the fabric, my thoughts were of Jacob and Evie. I didn't want to stay in the twenty-first century now that I had nothing there. To me, it just made sense to live out the rest of my life where I was happy and being with Jacob was the only thing that could make me happy again.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you," I said, trying to make amends.

He chuckled as he set the stone down on the console and looked at me. "It's quite all right. All things considered, I think you took dying rather well."

I laughed too. "It really is a shock to find out. I was so healthy too. At least now I don't have to go back to that crappy apartment in New Orleans. My roommate was a bitch."

He turned back to his work with a smile. "I'm glad you can see the bright side of things."

"Yeah." My thoughts went back to Jacob. "So, what happened to him?"

"Who?"
"Jacob. What happened to after him and Evie saved London?"

He paused for a moment and thought. "I believe he stayed in London. Visited India and trained with the assassins there. I believe he got married later in life and had a son. His granddaughter was instrumental in fighting the Nazis in World War I."

"Oh." The idea of Jacob moving on cut me to the core. I couldn't imagine loving anyone as much as him, but clearly his heart had moved on. Did I have the right to force myself back into his life, I wondered. Didn't he deserve to be happy?

"Gwen?"

I glanced over at Oliver, but my thoughts were centuries away. "Yeah?"

"Nothing's set in stone." He offered a sympathetic smile. "Who knows what will happen if you do go back."

I forced a smile as I nodded. Even if we didn't know the future, we could always learn from the past. I knew from previous experience that some things didn't need to be changed.

"Dammit it!" I snapped as I punched the wall closest to me after Oliver read yet another report. "Nothing. Always nothing. Are you sure we did it right?"

"Absolutely sure." He rubbed the bridge of his nose, clearly as frustrated as I was. "Temperature, radiation, and organic testing all came back unresponsive."

I laid my head down on the console in front of us. For a week, we'd tested the stone with every conceivable matter and under every conceivable environment. Still, nothing even remotely similar to what I experienced occurred. For all intents and purposes, it was a rock without a single damned redeeming quality.

Annoyed, I got up and paced, trying to figure out anything we may have missed. Still, there was nothing we could do that would make it work. It was like the batteries were dead and we couldn't pop it open and replace them.

"We've tried everything. Why won't it work?" I flopped down in the chair again, closing my eyes to ward off the stress headache I felt coming on. "What are we missing?"

"Maybe it's Bodiam Castle." Oliver offered. "Maybe it only works there."

"But wouldn't it have reacted to the soil sample you got from there?" I shook my head. "No. It's something else. We just have to find it."

He patted my leg. "We'll find it, Gwen. I promise. For now, why don't we take a break and get a bite to eat."

I nodded begrudgingly and followed him to the elevator. As we ascended to the warehouse floor, I couldn't help but comment. "It's kind of weird how y'all can afford all this stuff. You have a warehouse and an underground research facility. Most of what Jacob and Evie had came from their criminal connections. Did y'all invest in a legitimate business or become better criminals?"

"Historically, assassins have always had ties to the underworld. Nowadays, we just use the profits from the games to fund our missions." As he the doors opened, he gestured for me to lead. "After you."

I nodded. "So the game's actually based on Creed lore?"

"Exactly. Of course, the company takes come creative licenses with the stories, but we don't mind. As long as it keeps the coffers full, let them do what they want. Except make another movie." He mockingly shuttered. "Never let Hollywood loose on history."

I laughed. "Amen to that."

We walked down the busy streets in relative silence until we reached an out of the way pub made to mimic an American sports bar. Under the blaring noise of recorded American football and baseball games, we ate fish and chips while drinking proper British ale.

"I really hate this stuff," I half-jokingly commented when I finished off my pint.

Oliver smiled. "They have American beer on tap if you prefer."

"I prefer the crap Jacob used to get me." I shook my head. "No, I don't. I just drank it cause he got it for me. I hated that too."

"You miss him, don't you?"

I stared down at the remains of my meal, thinking of how best to respond. "I thought once I got home and got back to normal, it'd be like just a vacation fling. Like just a fond memory I'd cherish but move on from. Thing is, I don't want to move on. I told him I loved him and now I really believe I meant it."

"It must've been very hard for you to leave." He looked across the table at me compassionately. "I can't imagine what you must have went through."

"I got stories now, that's for sure." I chuckled. "You know, there's something we haven't considered. Maybe I just made the whole thing up in my head. You said it yourself, my body never left this time. I played the game and I knew the characters. It's not too far off base that it was all just some kind of amazing dream."

He shook his head. "And the mention of the wheel of time?"

I shrugged. "Coincidence? Evie said something about philosophy. Maybe I heard of the concept somewhere and made up a whole fantasy around it."

"And your ear?"

I touched the top of my earlobe and felt the lack of cartilage that caused it to be flat line instead of the usual curve. "Bad medical care?"

He laughed. "Now you're just being insulting. Haven't you ever wondered why Bruce and I were at Bodiam Castle?"

I shook my head. "The thought hadn't really occurred to me."

He lowered his voice. "Evie's notes mentioned a companion who needed to return to Bodiam Castle for what she thought may have been a piece of Eden, but then nothing else. Of course, she was more cryptic than that, but you get the idea. Then not too long ago, we found a letter to Henry Green where she mentioned missing her friend Gwen from American. Oh, and she understood what you meant about his – How did she say it? – bedroom eyes?"

I couldn't help but laugh. "I can't believe she used that line. Did they ever get married?"

"We're being watched." Oliver whispered as he paid our check. "The gents over there followed us in. Don't turn around."

I fought the urge to do exactly what he told me not to and tried not to shift nervously. "What do we do?"

He stood up. Pretending to be an affectionate boyfriend, he kissed me on the cheek then whispered, "Stay right here. I'm going to call and get some help. Be right back."

As he left, I stared at one of the televisions overhead, trying to catch a glimpse of our stalkers. A few seconds after he was gone, a wide built man with no hair followed him out the door. I held my breath, hoping Oliver would be all right.

"'Ello, miss." A ginger with a build like Prince Harry said to me as he took Oliver's seat. "Couldn't help noticing you from across the way. Lovely accent ya got."

I smiled politely. "Thank you."

"Watcha name, love?"

"It's Gwen," I glanced at the door, wishing Oliver would return.

"That's lovely." The man leaned forward. "Where ya from, Gwen?"

My primal instincts were on full alert. I knew I needed to find a way to leave but didn't want to make a scene. I finally stared at the man and said bluntly, "Look, you seem like a nice guy, but my boyfriend will be back any second and he's super jealous. You'd better leave."

"I'm sure he won't mind us having a little chat." He reached across the table and grabbed my wrist. "Whaddya say we go for a walk instead?"

"I don't think so."

"Come now, Gwen, let's not make a scene." He pushed his sportcoat open just enough for me to make out the handle of a gun discreetly holstered on his side. "Shall we?"

Eyes, throat, steed.

Jacob's words were my only thought as I punched him with my free hand in the Adam's apple. He bolted up from his seat as he choked, letting go of my hand in the process. Quickly, I got to my feet as well and drove my knee into his crotch with even more force. I almost smiled when he turned a little blue only seconds before I jabbed my thumbs in his eyes and twisted. While it wasn't enough to gouge them out, it would keep him from seeing anything for a while. Before he even hit the floor, I was already out the door running in the direction of the warehouse.

"Gwen!" I heard Oliver yell from several yards behind me.

Stopping to catch my breath, I waited for him. "Those guys."

"I know." He said, panting as well. "We need to get you out of here."

"Me? What?"

"They know about the wheel." He pulled out his phone and quickly dialed, barking into it as we rushed back. "Meet us at the warehouse. We've been compromised."

"Wait. What? How do they know?" I trotted along beside him to keep up as he put his phone back in his pocket and picked up his pace. "Oliver, how do they know?"

"I don't know, but the only reason we're alive right now is because they want the wheel." He shoved me inside. "Hurry. We need to get it and get out of here."

"Oh, God!"

Ignoring the elevator, I rammed into the door of the stairwell, taking them two at a time, until I was in the lab. My eyes instantly went to the console where we'd left the wheel in a small plastic cube, but there was nothing there. Panicked, I started searching for it, but the sparely decorated room left few places for it to hide.

"Do you have it?" He demanded as soon as he made it into the lab.

"It's gone." I shouted back, on my hands and knees looking under the console hoping to find it. "Help me look for it."

The sound of a gunshot echoed through the lab, causing me to drop to cover my head. There was a soft thud and I turned just as Oliver fell to the floor, blood oozing into the fabric of his long sleeve shirt as he gripped his upper arm. I scrambled over to him and tried to help him apply pressure to the wound.

"Miss King," A feminine voice said as I barrel of a semi-automatic pistol was pressed against my temple. I was ripped away from Oliver and hauled to my feet. Yanked around, I was brought face-to-face with a red-haired woman that haunted my nightmares.

"Lucy Throne."

She looked surprised I recognized her before she smiled. "Actually, it's Lucy Starrick, Miss King. We're here for the wheel."

There was a flash and smoke filled the room. I heard gunfire as I tried to pull away from the hand grasping my arm in a vice-like grip. The room erupted into utter chaos, but it gave me a chance to turn and take a swing at the large man holding me. Unfortunately, my fist landed against a hard chest and I knew I was in trouble when he laughed a little.

"Get her out of here!" I heard Lucy yell just as my captor stabbed something into my upper arm. Still fighting, I started to feel woozy and quickly realized I'd been drugged. Before passing out, I managed one more hit then nothing but blackness.

I don't know how much time passed, but when I opened my eyes I was laying on my side in a room with bare concrete walls and a single steel door. Sitting up to try and suppress the urge to vomit from what felt like a massive hangover, I tried vainly to adjust my position when I noticed the disposal handcuffs binding my wrists in front of me. Bound and alone, I started at the door and waited for whatever was to come while forcing any fear to the back of my mind. I may be down, but I wasn't out yet.

After what seemed like years, the door slowly opened and two large men walked in, one carrying a chair. He set it directly in front of me as I inched closer to the back of the room. They seemed to take a perverse delight in seeing me hunched over on the floor so I stood up out of spite.

"Which one of ya'll hit me?" I asked, lifting my hand to wipe away the little trail of blood from under my nose, which had been broken as some point. When they didn't answer, I continued. "Takes a big dicked man to hit a woman. Assholes."

"Miss King," I heard Lucy said from the doorway as she entered and sat down. "How are you feeling?"

"Me?" I spit a mouthful of saliva and blood at her feet. "I'm good. How the hell are you, Lucy?"

"Well. Thank you for asking." She shook her head. "I apologize for the abhorred treatment. I assure you, that wasn't my intent."

"Right." I rolled my eyes as I took a seat on the floor in front of her, determined to look as calm as she was. "Look, let's cut the shit. How'd you find out about the wheel?"

She smiled. "I forgot how blunt Americans are. Honestly, does it matter?"

I shrugged. "Maybe not, but every villain likes to monologue."

"Is that what you think we are?" She shook her head sadly. "We're not the villains here. Contrary to what you've been led to believe, we're trying to help humanity."
"By enslaving it?"

"By helping lead it into a utopian world where human beings are free of pain and suffering. Where the ninety-nine percent is safe and protected."

I sneered. "I'm Southern so I was taught a long time ago how the one percent treats the rest of us when they're in control. If I learned anything from history it's that the elite doesn't give a damn about the little guys as long as they got somebody picking their cotton."

She dismissed me with a way of her hand. "We could debate this forever, but I'm only here to find out how to activate the wheel."

"Why?"

She glared at me. "I'm tired of your flippant manner. Tell me how it works or I'll let my men extract the information by whatever means possible."

I chuckled. "Can't bleed a turnip."

"Very well, Miss King." As she stood, she shook her head. "I'm sorry we couldn't come to some arrangement."

"Yeah, me too." I forced myself to stand so I could stare her down. "But like I said, you can't extract what somebody doesn't know and I really don't know how the wheel works."

"Then tell me what you do know." I saw a flash of apprehensiveness in her eyes. "Why did it work for you?"

"I would, but –" I held up my hands. "It's hard to think when you can't feel your fingers."

She snapped and one of the men came over and cut me free. "So?"
I rubbed my hands, trying to get the circulation back while also trying to buy time to figure out how I could get out of this mess. If it were just Lucy and me, I knew I could make a run for it, but her goons stood between me and the doorway. I knew I'd be caught before I even got out. No, there had to be another way.

"Where are we?" I asked.

"Miss King, the wheel."

"Can I get a drink or something? My throat is dry." One of the goons stepped closer, causing me to back up. "All right. All right. It's some kind of transporter, I think."

"A transporter to where?" She demanded.

I shrugged. "I don't know. Into the game, I guess."

"Do you mean the actual game or the past?"

Again, I shrugged. "Look, all I want is to go home. I don't want to be involved in all this mess. Keep the damn rock. I don't care. Just let me go."

"The actual game or the past?" Her tone bordered on hysterics.

"I don't know!"

I rushed her, knocking her to the ground. Before she could react, I hit her in the face, smashing her nose with my fist. Jumping up, I went for the door only to be grabbed by the men. She slowly stood up and wiped the blood off her face. Her smile was maniacal as she looked at me while I fought against the hands holding me.

"That's too bad, Miss King." She turned to leave. "Make peace with your god because soon you'll be joining him."

"Fuck you!" I screamed as the thugs threw me on the floor, grabbed the chair, and followed her out.

The room was plunged into darkness as I fought against the door, yelling and cursing until I collapsed on the floor too weak to fight anymore.

Alone, my mind wandered back to my normal life; before I was thrown back in time and became aware of assassins and Templars. I wished I could have that life again even if it meant I had to deal with my crappy roommate and her crappy choice in music.

Then I thought of Jacob and realize that if it I'd have to give up everything we shared I'd prefer being stuck in a dark room about to die. I smiled, knowing that in the end, I'd finally found something worth dying for. If my life had to end, I was happy I got a chance to meet the person I was destined to love forever.

"I wish you were here, darling," I whispered into the darkness as a single tear rolled down my cheek. "You'd save me. You always do."

Alone in the darkness, I laid on the floor wondering if I was awake or asleep. It was an eerie kind of darkness that no light penetrated and time no longer mattered. I knew I'd been there for a while, but seconds and hours no longer seemed to pass. I was just in a void; emptiness.

Part of me actually seemed to like it. I'd seen the room, knew there was nothing in the darkness that could hurt me unlike when I'd woken up in the alleys. I could feel the hard concrete floor under me so I knew I was alive. It was horrible to be alone, but the dark was the last of my worries.

I assumed they'd left me for a reason. Maybe they expected me to cry the whole time or beg to be let out, but I didn't see a reason why. I knew they were going to kill me after they tried to get the information I didn't have. No one knew where I was as far as I knew so there was very little chance of being rescued. I knew my fate and, after considering it, decided to resign myself to it. I made peace with it and just waited for it to come. Afterall, hadn't the Creed already killed me off to everyone I knew? Not like I had anything left to live for anyway?

"Fuck you," I said out loud, knowing they were probably listening through some hidden surveillance system I hadn't noticed before being trapped in the blackness. "Think y'all gonna break me with this? Hell, I'm Southern. We go shining on moonless night. This ain't nothing."

What I needed was some entertainment, I thought. I didn't want to give them the satisfaction of seeing me break down, which would happen if I let my mind begin to consider what might happen. Besides, it was pointless for me to just lay around waiting. If I was going to die anyway, I might as well kill some time beforehand. Pun intended.

I reached into my pocket and fished out the slip of fabric from the wheel. I kept it as a memento of my time with the Frye twins. Before I knew I wasn't going home, I'd planned on having it framed and putting it on my nightstand where I could see it before I fell asleep every night. Now, I knew it would give me something to do until I died. Folding it over and over, I made a game of it; making different shapes, counting the sides and naming each shape.

"Pentagon," I said aloud when I felt five sizes then moved on to other shapes in turn. "Octagon, decagon, triangle, sexagon."

I giggled like a little girl saying her first dirty word at my mispronunciation of hexagon and continued playing. I had just made a rectangle into a square when the door hit me in the back. I scurried away from it like a mouse as a stream of light broke through the darkness, the brightness blurring my vision. I quickly shoved the swatch into my pocket.

"Bring her to the examination room," Lucy ordered as two rough hands yanked me up and dragged me into a blinding light along a long corridor. As my vision started to adjust to the light, I could make out a blurred vision of her standing in front of me. "I'll you one more time: How is the wheel activated?"

"You have to say the magic words," I said solemnly, pretending to give in to her.

"And what are the words."

"Abracadabra." I smiled at her. "Eat shit, bitch."

She shook her head and turned to walk away. "Do what you will."

The two men who shoved me into a medical chair before wrapping two Velcro and metal straps around my wrists. Another woman who was dressed in a scrubs came over to us. She held an IV needle attached to a bag filled with a clear solution. More afraid of the needle itself than what she was going to do, I fought against the restraints, but the two men forced my arms straight. She slapped my antecubital fossa, trying to bring up a vein. After a couple of seconds of hunting one, she gave up and jabbed the needle into my arm with a smile when she noticed me wince. In less than a minute, my head became heavy and lulled forward.

"Will it kill her?" I heard Lucy ask, but her words seemed sluggish.

"Not at this dosage." The woman answered, her voice also sounding like it was slowed down.

I giggled. "Y'all talk funny."

"It'll take about ten minutes before she's fully affected." The woman shoved my head back and shined a light in my eyes. "Probably less."

"That's some good shit." I giggled again, feeling drunk and uninhibited. "Damn, Lucy-lou-who, your boys are sexy as fuuuuuuuck. Hey, baby, what's your name?"

One of the men chuckled, but my head was dropped forward. Not knowing which was and not caring, I continued making little comments to let him know I was interested. Thankfully, he didn't seem nearly as conversational as I was.

"She must be horrible to be around when she's drunk." The women mused as she pushed my head back again after some time. "What's your name?"

"Gwenevere Elizabeth King." I couldn't help but giggle again. "Gwen for short. Everybody calls me Gwen. You can too, but we ain't friends."

She nodded approvingly. "And how old are you?"

I blew her a kiss. "How old do you want me to be, sugar?"

She released my head again. "It won't be much longer."

"You-whoo!" I called, trying to get the muscles in my neck to work again so I could look at the guard. "Sexy bald guy, why don't you interrogate me? I've been a very bad girl. You need to punish me."

"Randy bird ain't she?" The male voice said, clearly amused.

"Oh, honey. I like that accent. Talk cockney to me."

"Shut-up." Lucy grabbed a fistful of my hair. "How do I activate the wheel?"

"Say please."

She slapped me. "Tell me how to activate the wheel!"

"Wheel? Wheel?" I laughed. "Wheels. The wheels on the bus go round and round. Round and round. Round and round. C'mon and sing along. Y'all know the words."

I continued singing to myself as an explosion shook the floor. I hardly noticed the gunfire all around me nor did I pay attention to the smoke as it billowed through the examination room. After a few minutes, someone touched my forehead and gently lifted my head up.

"Gwen?" Jacob's face was in front of me, but his eyes were brown instead of their usual seductive green. "Gwen, can you hear me?"

I smiled. "I knew you'd save me, baby."

"Do you know where they're keeping the wheel?" He asked while freeing my arms and pulling the IV out.

"I have it. Let's go." A woman with a hint of a New York accent yelled.

"Time to go." Brown eyed Jacob hoisted me to my feet, but my legs were as worthless as my neck. Giving up on walking me out, he threw me over his shoulder.

"You have an amazing ass." I said as I watched it bounce in front of me. "Can I get some fries with that shake?"

"What's wrong with her?" The female voice, now much closer, asked as they ran.

"Drugged." He answered before rushing out into the street and into a waiting car.

I was thrown into the back seat only a few seconds before we sped off. My eyelids sagged, but I could tell we were on our way. Relaxing now that I'd been saved, I closed my eyes and tried to take a nap.

Not that I could get any sleep. Even in my drugged state, I realized the car was going too fast and politely (I think) asked them to slow down. The car was spun back and forth as if being rammed from the outside. Laying there, I could make out what looked like SUV's on either side of us dangerously close, which I found entertaining until they started shooting at us.

Being Southern, I was used to a gun culture, but it seemed a little excessive even by my standards and I commented on it to whoever was listening. "For a country that's supposed to be gun free, there's more bullets flying around than a Wild West town on Saturday night."

"Not now, Gwen," brown-eyed Jacob snarled from the front see then yelled, "Look out!"

I rolled into the floor just as the rear windshield showered the seat with glass. The drugs, which kept my amazingly calm through the most insane moment of my life, made it hard for me to hear the shouting and swearing in the front seat as the wheels seemed to lose contact with the road and we spun around in a circle and seemed to be heading back the way we came.

"They'll never take me alive!" I yelled, giggling through it all before I noticed no one was shooting at us anymore. "Where'd they go?"

We drove for some time before I fell into a semi-sleep where my eyes were closed but I was aware something was happening even if I couldn't tell what. Finally, the car came to a stop that caused my head to slam into the back of the seat. The back door was ripped open and I was pulled out. It felt like someone was trying to carry me but gave up and dropped me face first into the soft grass.

"She isn't dead, is she?" The female voice asked.

Brown-eyed Jacob rolled me over and slapped my face a few times, causing me to open my eyes to his handsome face. "Gwen, are you all right?"

I smiled as I tried to will my arms to reach out for him. Giving up, I just whispered, "I knew you'd save me."

He smiled back. "We weren't sure for a minute there. How are you feeling?"

"I was." I closed my eyes again. "Nighty-night, Jacob."

"Good night, Gwen."

Somewhere in the distance, I heard someone laugh before I fell into the best sleep of my life.

I woke up with the worst hangover I'd ever had. I groaned, but even the sound of my own voice caused my head to throb painfully. I rolled over and pulled the thin sheet over my eyes and tried to will the pain away. I knew I was in a bed that wasn't mine and I suppose I should've been more concerned, but at that moment I didn't even bother to wonder. All I wanted was for the pounding to go away.

"Ah, good. You're awake." Oliver pulled back the sheet. "Good morning."

"Go away," I snapped before realizing it really was Oliver standing there. I bolted upright, excited to see him alive, but only caused a headrush on top of my headache. I gripped my temples and sank back down. "Shit."

"Good to see you too." He chuckled as he took my wrist and checked my pulse. "How are you feeling?"

"Me?" How the hell are you?" I opened my eyes and watched him smile even though his arm was in a sling.

"Can't keep a good assassin down." He pressed the back of his hand to my forehead. "Even with a bullet."

"I'm glad."

He handed me some aspirins and a hot cup of coffee, both of which I gobbled down quickly as he waited for me to get up.

"The Templars couldn't get the wheel to work." He said in more of a question than a statement. When I shook my head, he continued. "I suppose we have to face facts then. The wheel is broken."

I nodded, my heart breaking as well. "So what now?"
"I don't know. With the lab destroyed we can't run any more tests for a while. Not that it helped anyway." He lowered his head. "We should destroy the wheel just to be safe."

I'll never see Jacob again, I thought. "All right."

He looked up at me. "Gwen, you know –"

"Yeah. I know." I forced a smile. "Man, I could use a shower."

"Second door to the right. I took the liberty of having some of your clothes brought over." As I started to leave, he placed a hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry."
"I'm not. He was there when I needed him." I patted his hand. "And he'll always be in my heart."

Once alone in the shower, I cried my eyes out. I cried because I regretted all the time I'd spent with Jacob thinking about going home. I cried because life as I knew it would never be the same. I cried because I'd never been able to see my friends or family again. I cried because whatever chance I may have had to be with the love of my life was gone. I cried because now that the Templars knew who I was, I'd never find peace again.

Mostly, though, I cried because I needed a good cry.

By the time I got out of the shower, my eyes were clear and my heart was empty. As I pulled on a fresh pair of jeans and a tank top, I noticed my dirty clothes piled in a heap on the floor. Picking them up, the fabric fell out of my pocket. It was bittersweet to know that this little piece of aged cloth had seen me through so much and been there when I needed it. It reminded me of Jacob and that thought made me smile.

"Hey, Oliver," I called as I walked out of the bathroom. "You know where I can get something framed around here? I kind of bonded with this little piece of trash. I want to keep it safe."

"I think that can be arranged." He called back. "Come join us in the kitchen."

I followed his voice to a combination living room and kitchen. Standing with him was the woman who'd helped save me and his cousin, Bruce.

"Pleasure to finally meet you, Gwen," the woman said as she stepped forward and shook my hand. "I'm Abby."

"Nice to meet you too and thanks for saving me." I smiled over at Bruce. "Well, if it isn't my brown-eyes Jacob."

He smiled as well. "Didn't think you'd remember my face."

I blushed a little. "Yeah. I was pretty hammered. Sorry about that."

"No worries, love." He winked. "My ass is impressive."

"Not nearly as impressive as his ego." Olive nudged him aside and handed me a small box. "Bishop thought it best if you do the honors."

Taking a deep breath, I opened the box and stared at the ordinary looking rock that was so extraordinary.

"She also said there's a place for you with us." Abby said with a smile. "If you want it."

"Thanks, but I don't know what I'm going to do yet." I placed the little scrap of fabric over the stone and closed the box. "I got a lot to figure out, don't I?"

Before I closed the lid, I felt a slight buzz like a cell phone on vibrate.

"Ohmigod!" I ripped open the lid, revealing the source. "The damn fabric. It's a part of the wheel."

"What!" Oliver grabbed the box as well, feeling the vibration. "You're right. It's working."

"My ruby slippers." Tears welled up in my eyes. "I can go home now."

"We need to destroy it." Bruce reached for it, but both Oliver and I pulled back. "It's dangerous. If the Templars find it –"

"Let me use to go back." The urge to touch it was so strong my fingers twitched. "Look, last time it didn't come with me and I had to find it. Y'all can destroy it once I'm gone."

"What if it doesn't stay?" He asked suspiciously.

"Then I'll destroy it in the past." I looked over at Oliver pleadingly. "The Templars will never find it no matter what. They don't know about it in the past and you have it here. Just let me go back to him."

"Gwen, there's a lot more at stake than just you traveling in time." He looked directly in my eyes. "If we can't destroy it here, you have to in the past."

I nodded. "I will. I swear. I'll even find a way to get a message to you once I do. Please, Oliver. There's nothing for me here anymore. I'm dead, remember."

Oliver withdrew his hand with a resolved sigh. "All right. Do it."

I hugged him quickly. "Thank you. For everything."

With my only thought being of Jacob Frye, I laid my finger across the swatch and stone.

I woke up to the smells first, of course. I can't say for certain why, but the scent of a place was always the first thing I noticed. This time, I only smelled the cleansing of newly fallen rain as it temporarily washed away the filth, making the city new again.

Once again, I was sprawled out in a dimly lit alleyway, but my memories were intact. The wheel lay embedded in my palm with my fingers wrapped tightly around it I smiled to myself, glad it was no longer in reach of the Templars.

"So, where's here?" I thought aloud as my eyes adjusted o the darkness. Getting up, I shoved the wheel deep into my pocket and surveyed my surroundings. While it wasn't the same alley I first woke up in, it seemed familiar somehow. I relaxed when I realized it reminded me of several alleys in nineteenth-century London.

Two silhouettes came into view, causing me to sink deeper into the shadows. I watched them as they ducked into the other end of the alley and stopped.

"Lemme piss," one said, stepping away from the streetlights while the other waited at the edge of the building. "That was a bit of nanty narking. Ya boss's a right proper gent for letting us drink up all his best liquor. Seems to have a bit of the morbs, though. What's ailing 'im?"

"His lady went back to American," the other replied in a voice I knew. "Shame too. Right lovely miss. Saved my life, she did."

"Oh, Rupert, that's so sweet of you to say." I laughed as they both jumped in shock. I stepped closer once his friend had properly covered himself. "I think you're a lovely gentleman too."

"Miss Gwen." He shoved his companion aside as he rushed over and grabbed me up in a bear hug. He quickly dropped me, the blush on his cheeks apparent even in the dim light. "Begging ya pardon, Miss Gwen. Just never expected to see you again."

"There was a time when I thought the same thing." I looped my arm through his. "Now, if you'll escort me to Mr. Frye, I'd be most appreciative."

"With pleasure, Miss Gwen."

He beamed as he led me the few feet to the entrance of the Thistle, the pub we'd shared so many happy hours in. As we walked in, several Rooks noticed us and rushed over to welcome me back. Martha, Dan, and even my old friend Hammy greeted me while peppering me with questions. All the while I scanned the room for the reason I'd chosen to return.

In the corner close to the stairs, I caught sight of him. My heart leaped for joy but quickly sank when I noticed the waif of a blond perched in his lap. While my first impulse was to walk over and rip the witch off him, I realized I'd chosen to leave him. I didn't have a right to be angry he was moving on. My heart may have been his, but he deserved to find whatever made him happy.

Not wanting to draw attention to myself, I took a seat at the other end of the bar but not before someone shouted my name. He looked up suddenly, locking eyes with me. Like in a movie, the whole world seemed to fade away. Those green eyes were wide at first, clearly in shock by my sudden return, then narrowed as he smiled. There was no anger; only the roguish glee I'd come to love. The moment ended when the blond tramp whispered something in his ear. I sneered and rolled my eyes, determined not to give in and claim him. If he wanted me, he'd have to come to me.

When a pint was shoved in my hand, I raised it in a salute when joined the other Rooks. With my back to him, I continued to celebrate my return while Rupert told the stories about our misadventures we all knew but loved to rehear.

"Miss King," I heard Jacob say, realizing he was standing behind me before I even took my first swallow.

I smiled but didn't turn around. "Mr. Frye."

"May I have this dance?"

I gauged his expressions by the Rooks facing me. Martha was grinning while Rupert and Dan looked away to keep from laughing. Hammy was clueless. Taking their expression as a positive, I rose slowly and turned to him. It took as my effort not to throw my arms around him and kiss him, but I somehow restrained myself. Glancing over his shoulder at the blond who was already cozying up to another man, I asked, "Won't your friend mind?"

"I don't give a damn." He wrapped his arm around my waist and hauled me into his chest. "Shall we?"

Someone began playing the fiddle and other people began to dance, but we just stood there staring into each other's eyes. Finally, he brushed away a few stray hairs and whispered, "I thought I'd lost you."

"You did." I stroked his cheek. "But I couldn't stay away. When I went back, I realized that wasn't my home anymore. Wherever you are, that's where I belong."

He placed ran his finger along my lips then along my cheek before stroking my neck. "I still can't believe you're here. It's like a dream."

"Shall we make your dreams come true?" I playfully raked my fingernails across his chest, smiling when I felt his muscles tense of my touch. "If you'll take me home, I'll prove how real I am. Over and over again."
"How forward, Miss King." He raised that devilish eyebrow and smirked. "What am I to do with you?"

"Whatever you want, Mr. Frye." I jerked my chin in the direction he'd come. "As long as I'm the only one you're doing it with."

He took my hand and kissed the back. "You have my word."

"The word of a thief and assassin?" I shook my head as I pulled his lapel, drawing his face closer to mine. "That'll never do."

"What then?"

I smiled. "Nothing less than your heart. It's all I ever wanted."

He leaned forward and whispered, "You know you already have it, darling. It was yours from the moment I laid eyes on you and it'll be yours forever."

"But I need proof, Mr. Frye."

"And you'll have it soon enough." He took my head and led me out of the pub before anyone noticed we were gone.

Hours later, I found myself stretched out across Evie's new bedroom on the train smiling as Jacob nuzzled body as if taking in my scent. I'd known before his appetite was voracious, but after being apart I'd forgotten how truly ravenous he could be. Still, through the passion, there was a tenderness I couldn't mistake for anything else but love. I knew I'd made the right decision. In his arms was where I belonged.

"It was nice of Evie to let us take her bed tonight," I commented as he placed several kisses along my shoulder as he inched higher.

"She's the last person I want to think about now, darling." He pushed my arms above my head before kissing me along my jawline. "Now, where were we?"

"Why don't you have a bed on the train?" I lowered my arms to pull his hair teasingly and guide his mouth lower.

"Do I need one?" With one hand, he pinned my arms above my head again.

"I guess not." I purred as his teeth grazed my throat. "We could get a place. Maybe in Whitechapel. It's so romantically uncivilized there. Oh, no. Westminster. I love their dog shows."

He finally paused and looked into my eyes, that eyebrow raised again. "We?"

"I just thought…" I stopped myself, confused and afraid. Had I misread the signs? Did he not want to be with me? "I mean…"

"You're so naïve, darling." He chuckled softly then lowered his mouth to my neck again. "I suppose we should get married if we're going to live together."

At first, I thought I hadn't heard him properly. Had he just said we should get married? "Wait. What?"

"Marry me, Gwen." He continued his passionate onslaught as he spoke, acting as if what he'd asked wasn't life-changing. "I never want to be without you again. You, my darling woman, are the most important person in my life. You are my life. Marry me."

I yanked him up to look him in the eyes. "Are you serious?"
He smiled as he rested his forehead against mine. "Quite serious. I love you, Gwen. Please do me the honor and be my wife?"

"Are you sure it's love?" My heart was pounding. Even though I knew I loved him and he'd told me he loved me, there was a part of me that still worried we might be rushing into something we weren't ready for. "It could just be lust."

"It's not just lust." When I tried to look away, he caught my chin and forced me to look directly in his eyes. I could only see the sincerity in them as he said, "When you were gone, I didn't think I could go on. All I could think about was how much I missed you and wished I'd stopped you. I've spent every night since then trying to rid myself of your memory. First, the bottle then the fighting ring, but nothing worked. When you saw me tonight, I had every intention of… The lady you saw me with…"

His inability to tell me he wanted to sleep with another woman made me grin. How could I be mad when he was trying so hard to be honest with me? "You were going to spend the night with her."

"Yes." He blushed a little, making him look like a little boy caught doing wrong. "But knew I couldn't because she wasn't the one I needed. She wasn't you. You're my breath, darling, and I can't live without you. Please, Gwen, marry me."

I smiled, all my fears put to rest once and for all. "You're so mushy, Jacob Frye, but I love you."

"So I take that to mean you will?" He lowered his head to continue.

"No."

He jerked his head back up. "No?"

I pushed him onto his back and straddled his waist, causing him to chuckle. I stared down at him and smiled. "No, it's not a yes. That's a hell yeah."

It was a few hours before dawn when I got out of bed. I stared at the handsome rogue sleeping sounding with a partial smirk still gracing his lips. It'd been the same smirk that led me to his arms the first time. It'd be that same smirk that kept me there for the rest of my life.

Not wanting to wake him but wanting to still feel close to him while I got some air, I slipped on his shirt and stepped out onto the landing. Looking up, I could see the moon through the haze of London's smog. It was a fat yellow circle like the night we said good-bye, which seemed fitting now that I was in his arms again.

Even as I thought of the future we planned on having, I couldn't forget my mission wasn't done yet. The wheel needed to be destroyed once and for all. I needed to make sure the Templars would never find it and be able to use it against the Creed and the world at large. With the ability to travel through time, they could wipe out the assassins before it even had a chance to begin.

The thought terrified me. I couldn't lose Jacob and Evie again. They were my family now. As long as the wheel existed, they would always be in danger and I was determined to protect them at all cost.

Like an assassin would, I thought with a smile finally feeling like I understood them just a little more.

I heard the door softly open behind me. Jacob wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed the back of my head. I leaned into his strong body, cherishing the warmth that always seemed to emanate from him.

"What's wrong, my love?" He asked as softly as the drone of the engines would allow.

"The wheel needs to be destroyed." I sighed. "I promised Oliver if it came with me, I'd make sure it couldn't be used again. I just don't know if it's going to be as easy as I thought."

"Why is that?"

"We had to go get it at Bodiam Castle when I left the last time because it didn't travel from the future. It went into the future with me and came back with me. I have a hunch that means it can't exist on multiple planes of existence. But if that's the case, would it be possible to find it in the past again?"

"Henry may be able to shed some light on the wheel."

I nodded. "There's something else. Lucy Thorne was in the future, but she went by the name Starrick. Somehow, she knew about the wheel."

I felt his arms tighten ever so slightly, protecting me from the non-existent threat. "That's concerning."

"No kidding, but what bothers me is that she attacked us while we were researching the wheel. Like she knew ahead of time we'd have it and where to find us." I shuttered, a chill running through me when I thought about Oliver, Bruce, and Abby. Where they safe now? "There's a million questions and no answers. It's frustrating."

He kissed the back of my head again. "I don't know, darling, but I promise once we've freed London from Crawford Starrick's grasp, we'll find all the answers to your questions and get rid of the wheel once and for all."

I smiled. "We?"

"You're no assassin, Miss King." He teasingly nipped the top of my damaged ear. "You'll need all the help you can get."

"Well, just so you know, I'm one heck of a lookout." I turned around in his arms to face him. "And from what I heard, the Rooks need one of those. What do you say? Can I become a member of the Rooks?"

"Piss poor Rook if ever there was one." He kissed the tip of my nose. "I'll think about it."

"You do that, Mr. Frye." I leaned forward and kissed the tattoo on his chest. "Just remember I still have an offer as a queen."

He chuckled as he lifted my mouth to his. "I'll remember that, Miss King."

I knew our war wasn't over as he pressed his lips to mine, but it could wait a little while. After all, what was the point in fighting to make the world a better place if we couldn't enjoy it for a couple more hours?

The End