Following the same back alleys and side streets I had the first time, I made it to the Alhambra in record time. I paused when I noticed the crowd gathering for the show, but decided there was no turning back. Slipping in through the side entrance, I found him standing in the wings watching eagerly.

Creeping up behind him, I whispered, "Hello, Maxwell."

He spun around, clearly shocked, before smiling. "Well, well. My darling Gwen. I hadn't expected to see you again."

I shrugged. "Yeah, so I heard. Guess I'm like a bad penny. I just keep turning up."

He stepped closer, but I didn't move. Looming over me, he mocked, "Come to stick me with your little knife? Look around us. There's nowhere for you to escape."

"I know, but what the hell." I pulled out my dagger and jammed it against his throat. "Might as well try."

His eyes were wide, astonished I actually threatened him, but that insane smile reappeared. "Do it. Kill me. Don't I deserve it after everything I've done?"

I hesitated, which was exactly what he wanted. The distraction gave him time to wrap his hand around mine. Realizing what'd happened, I fought to maintain control while he backed me up until I crashed into the rigging. Once pinned, he slammed my arm into a board and dug his fingernails into my wrist. After only a few attempts, my dagger fell to the floor.

I took a swing at him when he reached down to retrieve it, but he was back up too fast and I only managed a weak punch to his chest. Within seconds, one of his goons spotted us and rushed over. The second man backhanded me hard, causing me to fall on my hands and knees. Once down, he started kicking midsection before I hit the floor completely. I looked up to see Roth pushing his man back.

"Coward," I said as I tried to catch my breath.

"And there's my viper." Roth knelt down beside me so he could look in my eyes. "You don't know how long I've waited to see that hatred."

I tried to laugh. "I don't hate you. I pity you."

I saw the rage flair in his eyes. "We were supposed to be different, you and I. I wanted you to be my constant companion. And Jacob, the tie that bound us."

"You didn't want a companion." Holding my stomach, I forced myself to my feet. "You wanted a worshipper."

"I wanted a goddess." He shoved me into the waiting bearhug of his henchman. "A hedonistic queen."

"I'm already a queen." I threw my head back into my captor's face and smiled at the sound of cartilage shattering. Freed, I balled my fist and backhanded Roth as he'd done me. "Of the Rooks."

I felt like a superhero until Roth hit me a second time, sending me to the floor again. I spit out blood just as his boot connected with my already sensitive stomach. One kick was enough to lay me out.

"That may be, but after tonight the reign of the Rooks will be ashes." Turning to leave, he gave one last order. "Get this trash out of my theatre."

The Blighter nearly yanked my arm out of socket as he got me up and dragged me out the backdoor. Tossing me in with the discarded crates and garbage, he followed Roth's lead and attempted to split my guts open with his boot. I tried to roll away from the blows, which resulted in several hard blows to my back before the beating suddenly stopped.

"Miss King," I heard someone say as I struggled for air.

Jonesy reached out for me and lifted me to my feet. I was only partly aware of the Blighter laid out a few feet from us, blood flowing down the side of his face from an open wound on his temple. Jonesy – sweet, kind Officer Jonesy – had saved me again.

"My knight in blue armor."

He graced me with a blushing smile as he wrapped an arm around my waist and slowly walked me over to a bench on the greens in front of the Alhambra. Settling me down, he hovered like a mother hen while I tried to even out my breathing.

"Shall I fetch a doctor?" He asked, then looked over his shoulder. "Or will I be clobbered again?"

I smiled. "I'm fine now. Thank you."

"Mind explaining what the bloody hell is going on?" He said. "Or do we need to take another trip to the Yard?"

I shook my head. "No, sir. Nothing happened. Just a difference of opinions."

He sighed. "Miss King."

Before he could begin what I knew was going to be a very long lecture, a frenzied crowd began to pour out of the Alhambra. Smoke was slowly trailing out the top of the door, picking up speed as more of the patrons rushed out. Between the cries for help, someone yelled, "Call the fire brigade!"

Jonesy looked down at me, but before he could say anything, I ordered, "I'm fine. Go."

He nodded then sprinted off in the direction of the more urgent calls for help. I watched the fire lap at the windows before bursting through the second story, feeling of perverse enjoyment in seeing Maxwell Roth's beloved theatre going up in flames until another thought crept into my mind.

Where's Jacob?

I hadn't seen him when I confronted Roth, but I couldn't be certain he wasn't there. Maybe in the audience or another wing. He'd said he was working with Roth now. Where was he?

"That may be, but after tonight the reign of the Rooks will be ashes."

No. It couldn't be.

I got up and slowly made my way over to the crowd already gathering to witness the destruction. Pushing my way to the front, I saw Officer Jonesy forcing back the looky-loos.

"Jonesy," I called, waving to catch his eye. Once noticing me, I asked, "What's happening?"

"The owner set the place ablaze," he said before his name was called and he started to leave. "Excuse me, Miss."

I caught his forearm before he disappeared. "Did everyone make it out okay?"

"Seems so except the owner himself and another man." His name was called a second time.

"The other man. Who was it?"

"Don't know, Miss." He looked at me, his expression grave. "He was wearing a dark hooded cloak."

I let go of him, but my knees felt weak. Making my way back to my seat, I tried to suppress the panic that rose in my chest.

He can't be, I thought, refusing to use the word. "Jacob."

Even with all the madness around me, I couldn't feel anything except an emptiness that started at my toes and slowly worked its way up my body. There was no fear, no sadness, just a blank space where nothing seemed to fit anymore.

I buried my face in my hands as Maxwell's words repeated in my mind. I couldn't deny their meaning. I knew Jacob was in the Alhambra with him and, if Maxwell was done, so was he.

There were so many things left unspoken between us. He couldn't be inside. We still needed to make amends. He wouldn't leave without so much unfinished business between us.

This is Jacob we're talking about.

The crash of the second floor giving way made me look up. The flames had burned through the roof and were sending beautiful yellow and orange streaks across the darkening skies. The night was almost as bright as day as the building slowly turned to ashes.

One black shadow would've been missed by everyone against such chaos. That is, by everyone except someone who was praying for it. From the side entrance, the same one I'd been thrown out of, a flash of movement caught my attention. Focusing on it, I recognized the power, grace, and speed.

"Jacob!' I jumped to my feet and ran over to him just as he bent forward to catch his breath. I dropped to my knees in front of him and wrapped my arms around his neck. "Thank God!"

"Gwen?" He sounded confused as he pried my arms away. Cupping my cheeks, he inspected my face before demanding, "Who did this?"

I tried to laugh. Here he was, just having survived a massive fire, worrying about me. Unfortunately, my ribs reminded me of my own misadventures. Grabbing my stomach, I fought back the tears welling up in my eyes and only barely managed to stifle a yelp. In response, he wrapped his arm around my shoulder and held me until the pain subsided.

"Who did this to you?" He asked again as he practically lifted me to my feet.

"One of Maxwell's goons," I said as I leaned into him for physical and moral support. "After I came to discuss the bounty he put out on me."

I felt his arm tighten. His words were rigid as he said, "Roth's dead."

"Good."

The hotel in the Straind was lavish compared to anything we'd stayed in before. An amazing example of opulence with its sprawling lobby and ornate décor, I would've appreciated had it not been for my innards feeling like mush. As Jacob signed us in and paid the clerk, the adrenaline that was keeping me on my feet began to wane. All too quickly, I felt every blow with renewed severity. My body, my very bones themselves, screamed and cried.

Keeping my head down and his overcoat pulled tight, I whispered, "Send a message to Evie. Let her know where we are."

"Later," he replied as he guided us through to the grand staircase and to our second-floor room. Once inside, he helped me to bed and slowly began undressing me to inspect my wounds.

"Evie," I said impatiently, pushing myself up on the pillows. "She knows I went to the Alhambra and she'll worry when she hears about the fire."

He started to argue then sighed and left the room. While he was gone, I carefully undressed to see the damage. My stomach was covered in bruises of varying shades of purple and blue. Going to the wash basin and mirror, I noticed the blood from my reopened split lip as well as a swollen eye and cheek. There were blotches of bruising all over my head, neck, and shoulders as well, reminding me of a modern art painting.

I was in the process of cleaning my face when he returned. Coming over to me, he took the rag from my hand and led me back to the bed. "You need to rest."

I smiled then grimaced. "I've had worse."

"I'm sorry, Gwen." He whispered before slowly inspecting my stomach. In a clinical tone, he asked, "Have you coughed up blood?"

"No. I don't think he hit anything important. Not for lack of trying." I took his hand. "I'm glad you're okay too."

He nodded but didn't meet my eyes. Instead, he busied himself making a cool compress he laid across the worst of my facial bruises. With a second rag, he carefully cleaned the remaining blood and dirt off my face and chest.

"Are we not going to talk now?" I grumbled. "Just sit here and pretend everything's all right."

"I don't know what to say."

"Just whatever you're thinking." I stilled his hand. "I just want to hear your voice."

"I'm sorry." He closed his eyes tightly and shook his head before continuing his work. "I'm taking you to Crawley once you're well enough to travel."

"Excuse me?"

He continued as if I hadn't spoken. "You'll stay with George until I send for you. He'll keep you safe."

"Uh, yeah. No." I sat up, causing him to pull away. "I'm not going anywhere until the Templars –"

"Are no longer your concern," he interrupted. "You are not an assassin."

"And you are not my boss." I glared at him. "I'm staying right here so get over it."

"You almost died today," he snapped, matching my angry tone. "Does your life mean nothing to you?"

"Of course, but sending me to Crawley or the States or even the moon isn't going to keep me safe so long as the Templars are in power."

"This isn't your fight." He held my shoulder.

I stared into his eyes defiantly. "This has always been my fight. I just didn't realize it until now."

"Damn it, Gwen!" He snarled as he stood and paced. "Why won't you do as I say? Why are you so damned stubborn? I'm doing this for you."

No. You're doing this for you. You don't want to deal with the pain if anything happens."

He spun around. "You're absolutely right. I lost you once and it nearly killed me. I won't let it happen again."

"Selfish," I spat.

"For trying to protect you?" He shouted.

"Yes." I sighed. "And for turning your back on everything meaningful in your life because you're afraid of getting hurt. I'm ashamed of you, Jacob Frye."

"Then leave!"

I shook my head. "No. This is my home and I'm going to protect it no matter what. Like you would be doing if you weren't so damned scared."

"What do you expect? I've already lost everything else I care about. Why wouldn't I be afraid of losing you too?"

"Because I'm not going anywhere."

He stared at me for a long time before coming back to the bedside. Dropping to his knees, he took my hand and kissed my bloated knuckles. There were tears – real tears – in his eyes when he pressed his forehead against them and began to speak.

"You are the kindest person I've ever met," he began, sounding like he was deep in prayer. "Loving, compassionate, and good. Truly good. When you came back, I knew you'd see me for who I was and go away again because you deserved better.

"But you never left. Even at my worst, you still loved me unconditionally. You forgave every transgression, every fault. The only way I could get you to see me was to make you hate me. When that didn't work, I knew I had to let you go so I ran to the arms of another damned soul. Without you, I was miserable," he scoffed. "But at least I was in good company."

"Jacob –" His honesty was killing me, but he didn't stop.

"In the end, I couldn't be truly evil. When Roth decided to destroy one of Starrick's factories filled with children, I tried to stop him. He flew into a rage. I was there to stop him from hurting more innocents, but when I saw you I realized I wasn't the only one he wanted to wound.

"You've sacrificed everything for me and paid the price. Even looking at you right now, all I want is to keep you safe. From me. I'd rather be alone and know you're alive than ever see you hurt again."

I learned two things at that moment. The first was that tears will still fall no matter how swollen your eye is. The second was that for all his attempted to hide it, there was a tender, loving heart beating in the chest of Jacob Frye.

I'd gotten what I asked for. He'd opened up to me completely and shared all his fears and insecurities. As I pulled him into the bed beside me and let him draw me close, I knew he'd finally given me everything he had.

"We're both so broken," I said softly as he played with my hair.

"I know."

I timidly kissed him and watched his eyes close. When I was sure he was asleep, I whispered, "I love you, Jacob Frye. Now and forever."