He heard the sound of scuffling feet and cut off breathing from outside. Shouting followed and then the recognisable thud of a body being thrown to the floor. He cooed at his crow, soothing him as he became agitated and nervous at the sound of fighting. It fell quiet as Roth thought it would. Stepping away from the birdcage, he went back to his desk as he listened to the feet treading the boards towards his office.
Starrick walked in with heavy steps, clicking his heels to the wood neatly. Roth looked up at him from his work, staring with sharp, dark eyes.
"Mr Starrick, a pleasure!"
"Don't play games with me, Maxwell. I'm here because I know what you did. You put on a good show, I'll give you that but this is your last performance. I don't deal with men like you: you're not loyal to the cause."
"Men like me, Crawford?" He considered his generalisation to be a personal attack. He remained seated but opened his arms out as wide as they "I'll take you in my arms with a knife in each hand, one for the front and one for the back. You knew that when you employed me." Roth flashed his teeth with a quick, devilish smirk.
"You're nothing more than a cheap, flash crook with friends. And you're sleeping with the man who is trying to kill me. You've got your tongue down the throat of that toe rag, and unless you plan on choking him with it I suggest you shoot yourself before I come back."
"You know my answer, Crawford. Give me a week, get all my affairs in order.
"An apt choice of words. But I'll grant you that, I'm a businessman. However-" He clicked his fingers and then curled his finger towards himself, gesturing that his men come in. "-I'm sure you won't mind me taking something as reparation for your insulting me so rudely." Starrick's men pulled in a bruised and tied Lewis, his young face showed his pain. Pretty things were so fragile in heavy hands.
Starrick himself then forced Lewis towards the far side of the room and to the open window. Roth twitched to grab the gun but ceased, closing his lips into a flat line as he caught the boy's eye. He had to let nature take its own course: big animals eat smaller animals. He was sorry but would never apologise, because that was the nature of bad business. Dog ate dog, and everything else was just collateral damage.
"Can't I just throw him from the window and be done with him?" As simple as that, Starrick threw Lewis from the third floor window to the earth. Roth swallowed the lump in his throat as sat there, thinking about Jacob's disappointment that he didn't kill Starrick when he had the chance. Roth moved the hand that had reached for the gun to the inside of his thigh and rested it there, a weight to keep him still. A weight that reminded him of Jacob.
Starrick left as unceremoniously as he had arrived, shutting the door to Roth's office behind him; leaving the actor in the knowledge that he had a week left alive.
Jacob spent the first day, unknowingly, tracking down Abberline to enumerate about any new leads on Starrick's henchmen. Abberline, as usual, was closer to clueless than anything else but Jacob trusted him because he knew he'd be able to tell if Freddy was lying from a mile off.
On the second day of the seven, Roth was sick of the peace that the first day had afforded him and he turned up at Jacob's door to find him. He knocked and Jacob was there, answering the door as he would to anyone, unaware of who was on the other side. He jumped slightly when he saw that it was Roth.
"I've come to alleviate your boredom."
"A pleasure, Mr Roth." Jacob smiled slowly, winking at him as he closed the door behind himself.
"Get in, won't you?" Jacob followed Roth as he climbed into his carriage, noticing as he did that Lewis wasn't driving.
"Where's Lewis?" The younger man asked and Maxwell ignored him.
"I want to play a game with you. Something clean, just this once; I want to see you think." Roth neglected Jacob's question with his suggestion, slipping his hand to rest on Jacob's inner thigh.
"Alright, I'm game." Jacob said as he turned his head to his right and kissed Roth's throat cleanly but with longing. " Chess, I'm assuming?"
Roth got distracted by the ministrations of Jacob's tongue and teeth at his neck and collarbones to answer his question. He drew his hands by the fingers along the inside of Jacob's leg making him fidget and moan against his throat with an open mouth. They arrived just outside the Alhambra half-aroused and half-aware that they would have to walk down the half street to the foyer doors of the theatre like nothing had happened. The short walk cooled their heels considerably as they felt eyes in them, most people recognising Jacob from the papers. They reached the foot of the stage and smiled curiously at each other, content in the state they were in as Roth climbed onto the stage.
"To answer your question, my dear darling, no. Nothing so banal. Improvise. Acting." Roth grinned, basking in the faint glow of the footlights. "I want heartbreaking, Jacob, my darling. I want to be torn apart: that's what the theatre is for!" Roth extended his hand, showing Jacob the table to stand on to elevate him. Jacob obliged and replied after he'd found his balance, standing on such a surface.
"This'll help take down Starrick, you think? Acting."
"No, dear, not at all. He wouldn't fall for it twice. But it amuses me and I'll help you sink a knife into that fucker's throat. I'll put him down like a sick dog myself for what he did to you. That pretty face. I've got no loyalty to men who abuse pretty things." Roth's tone became serious despite his smile growing. He clapped his hands as if to restart a scene and climbed up from his chair to stand on the table. "Now, come on, gamble with me Break my heart!"
"You make my skin crawl. That heartbreaking enough for you? You repulse me, you make me sick."
"Fight back, my dear."
"Against what?"
"Against my disappointment. That was predictable."
"What if I wasn't acting?"
"I trust that you were. You're not a good liar."
"Would I lie to you?" The subtle smile made Roth think twice about what Jacob was saying : was he telling the truth?
"Someone as near and dear to me as you? Never. Unless-" His words were carefully chosen.
"-Honeytrap." Jacob cut him off. "I'm getting better, aren't I?" Roth stopped and took in his calm but impressed expression and the spark in his eyes.
"You are."
"Suckerpunches are a speciality."
"Show me sometime." He winked at the assassin as he pulled his gloves off with his teeth, carefully. He ambled across the stage, carrying his gloves and a gun. "You never fail to surprise me, my dear."
Jacob watched Roth walk to the back of the stage, leaving as easily and as calmly as that, knowing that Jacob would let himself out. Jacob almost let him until the caught himself shouting across the stage at the footsteps he heard receding.
"Max, dance with me." He called out suddenly, speaking before he had registered he had opened his mouth. It was instinct and desire talking and his body froze because of it.
"I beg your pardon, my dear?" Roth's eyes were inquisitive but his lips were flat as he walked back to the centre of the back of the stage, his mouth curling into a slight smile only when Jacob laughed breathily in a panic. He was flustered, watching Roth cock the revolver out of habit.
"Would you dance with me?"
"I thought you didn't dance." Roth turned around completely.
"Because I've never found a good partner." He made his way towards Jacob easily.
"I stand corrected. I knew it was a lie." He murmured to the assassin, tucking the lip of the gloves under his waistband. "It'd be my pleasure." He extended his hand as an offer to walk Jacob down from the table. Jacob accepted it and stepped down onto a chair and then the boards of the stage, removing his hand from Roth's to adjust his shirt. Roth's empty hand wedged the gun under the waistband of his trousers as well, but nestled against his spine unlike the gloves.
"A waltz?" Roth asked, holding out his right arm with an open palm.
"How romantic, I know." Jacob said, looking Roth in the eye with a smirk. Roth nurtured a small smile at Jacob's touching brokenness. His bravado was useless to a man like Roth except as a spectacle. The man was an actor, what was bravado if not a mask in the theatre?
Without music, their murderous duet commenced. Jacob placed his hand on Roth's waist and tangled the fingers of his other hand with those of Roth's outstretched hand. Maxwell draped his other arm around Jacob's shoulders, looking up at Jacob through his lashes as Jacob began.
"I like it when you take control." Roth spoke, his mouth a hair's breadth from Jacob's. They could feel each other's breath on their lips. Jacob smiled reactively at Roth and slid the hand at his waist along to the base of his back, drawing him in even closer. They danced slowly at first, cautiously almost; as if they were remembering the steps and didn't want to tread on the other's toes. Picking up the pace gradually, Roth moved his hand to cradle Jacob's neck, prompting him to turn his head away from the lights above them and look down at him. They kept their breathing steady and concentrated on the steps but Roth had done this a hundred times before and spent his time encouraging Jacob to relax and let his weight fall against him to even the pair out. Jacob could have grabbed Roth's gun at any moment and shot him at any moment just as Roth could have snapped Jacob's neck if he'd wanted to, but they didn't. They eased into the steps and began to traverse the stage with ease, letting their minds focus on the other slowly. Their fingers wound tighter in the other's as they looked deep into their partner's eyes and lost themselves in the mystery for a moment, moving by instinct then. Jacob pressed the palm at Roth's lower back against his skin, pushing him closer again, Roth smirked at the contact, letting his lips fall apart a little. Roth's fingers idly climbed Jacob's neck, sinking into the base of his hair but then resting his palm flat on Jacob's spinal column, encouraging him to make a move. The assassin let his back foot drag across the boards and held his palm steadily as he let Roth fall back, lowering Maxwell towards the floor, feeling his back curve backwards against his hold, ending their dance.
Jacob leant his head down ever so slightly as Roth angled his upwards to meet their mouths. Their breathing was slow but heavy as they almost brought their lips together, closing their eyes, taken in the romance of the pose they hung in. Jacob flinched as his mouth came to touch Roth's, angling his head to the right before moving his outstretched hand to cradle Roth's head, pulled their heads together with one smooth movement. Jacob's lips parted in anticipation to catch Roth's with own as a gunshot startled them apart.
Jacob almost dropped Roth as his eyes snapped open and his reaction to duck took over him. Roth jumped at the closeness of the sound, digging his fingers into Jacob automatically. Their movement combined caused them to fall over; resulting in Roth lying on top of Jacob, their arms wrapped around each other. The gun had fallen from where it was pressed against Roth's back when Jacob tipped him backwards and had hit the floor sharply enough to knock it into firing.
Roth and Jacob were caught in a peculiar moment of adrenaline and curiosity as they laughed through the mild shock. Jacob's ran his hand up to Roth's head, lacing it through his hair, as Roth crawled on top of him but moved his knees to either side of the assassin's waist to balance his body. Roth touched the scar on Jacob's eyebrow and then traced his fingers to his lower lip, touching the cut gently.
In this strange elation they caught each other's eyes and felt whole for a brief moment, seeing something in the other they hadn't seen before. One saw the bird, the other saw the cage; and they trapped each other, softly.
Jacob pulled Roth's mouth down onto his, crushing their lips together with light force. He parted his lips and widened his mouth against Roth's, savouring this natural kiss and the pressure of Roth's lips on his. Maxwell angled his head to one side, deepening the kiss as he sunk his hand into Jacob's black hair. They kissed lazily, making slow and deep movements with their lips; devouring the other. Jacob fell into it, moaning gently into Roth's mouth when he tugged his hair. He pulled Roth down harder onto him, wanting to make him moan, using his leg to ease Roth's body down onto his. This allowed Jacob to wrap his legs around Roth's waist and roll them over as they kissed feverishly. With the room to move, the assassin rolled his hips against the older man's, groaning as he heard Roth moaning for him.
He rolled his hips again but eased back this time, deciding that he wanted nothing more than this for a moment. Roth slowed down, giving him a chance to catch Jacob's lower lip in his teeth, letting him suck it and release it, to Jacob's pleasure.
His smile was reactive as he leant in to kiss Roth again. He eased off this time, pressing lighter kisses to Roth's slightly swollen lips. Roth pressed a lingering kiss, just as lightly, when Jacob drew his head back and looked into his eyes for answers. They waited in the silence of the Alhambra for a few minutes, captivated by the sound of the other breathing as the adrenaline wore off.
Out of breath, he climbed off him, extending his hand for Roth to pull him up.
"Not bad, Roth." Jacob commented playfully.
"Not bad yourself, rookie." Roth remarked, pulling the gloves out from where they hung. "You're better than I thought." He made his way towards the dropped gun a few feet across the stage.
"You sly devil, you bit my lip and made it bleed." Jacob noticing, touching his lips with the back of his hand.
"Surprise is the spice of life, dear."
Just over half of Roth's last week had passed when Jacob appeared at his window like a prowling cat ready to pounce. There was excitement in his eyes as he saw Roth tending to his bird.
"Come with me. I want to try something." Jacob offered, pulling himself up over the ledge at the window. He saw Roth admiring his pet crow, it sat in its cage on Roth's desk, Roth crouching down in front of it.
"I could always come to you, my darling." Roth was startled by Jacob's sudden appearance. Roth joked, watching the assassin saunter through his office having climbed in through the windows. He moved the birdcage steadily back to the hooked stand in the far corner. "Why?"
"Why not?" Jacob retorted, smiling, and walking straight out of Roth's office. He walked down the stairs and Roth followed, curious as to what Jacob could want. He followed him as he crossed the stage and cut between the wings to walk backstage, then up the far side staircase. Jacob whistled as he climbed the ladder besides the exit of the stairs, stopping to turn and offer Maxwell a hand up. Jacob hadn't noticed that the set had changed until he looked down at it from the ceiling. They were standing in the theatre gantries, thirty foot above the floor of the stage.
"The gantries, my dear?"
"The roof." Jacob pointed to the latched opening in the roof above the far end of catwalk to Roth's right.
"There's nothing to stand on out there, it's only good for letting in the rain and optimistic escape in case of fires."
"Then the gantries will do. Not quite what I had in mind-"
"What for? I'm intrigued."
"For making you cry. I want to hear you."
"Jacob, my dear, you're a tease. I'm all yours." Roth stood with his arms spread apart, a gesture of openness. "Don't go too hard on me now, these catwalks'll move, they're not very stable."
"I'll keep you as still as I can." Jacob's words were a promise as he closed in on the older man, catching his hands by his sides, pinning him to the wall. He exhaled against Roth's jaw, nipping it with his teeth, to which he heard Roth almost laugh. Jacob closed his eyes then, snaking his hand along the inside of Roth's forearm until he caught his fingers, knotting their fingers effortlessly.
"Close your eyes." He murmured against Roth's skin, sinking his teeth into Roth's throat. Roth did as he was told, running his hand through the assassin's hair, moaning softly at the sharp but hot contact of Jacob's mouth on his skin.
He lifted Roth's arms above his head with ease, kissing his neck sensually as he caught both wrists between the fingers of one hand, allowing him to slide his other hand down Roth's shirt. He began fiddling with the buttons but struggled without looking, growling into a kiss as he tore Roth's shirt open. The light sound of tinkling buttons tapping the gantry beams distracted him all of a sudden, as they fell with the breathy, open-mouthed moan Roth elicited.
Licking a straight line up the older man's throat, Jacob let go of his hands but they stayed there for a moment as Roth held them up, in a fever Jacob caressed his throat with both hands. Roth pulled Jacob's weight forward with his foot, wrapping his leg around Jacob's and tugging him forward, feeling the pressure of Jacob's bulge pressing against his own. Jacob gasped at the pressure as he traced his hands down Roth's muscled torso.
Roth, in return, dug one hand into Jacob's hair and slid the other down to cup Jacob's buttocks. Jacob smirked lasciviously as he kissed his way down Roth's chest. Surrendering one hand to hang around Roth's neck to keep him steady on the narrow gantries, Jacob let the other fall down to Roth's chest and pinch his nipples as he continued to kiss him. As he moved down Roth's body, he left a trail of deep kisses and teeth marks from Roth's collar to his belly button. Jacob pulled both of his hands down to undo Roth's trousers when Roth hooked one of his hands around Jacob's suddenly, catching it as it brushed down his chest. He pushed it down the waistband of his trousers as the assassin skilfully undid them with one hand, moaning at the touch of him guiding Jacob's hand to his throbbing, erect cock.
He stroked it tenuously, guiding Jacob's hand comfortably as he felt the assassin's hot breath run along his exposed skin.
"Open your eyes." Jacob commanded, and Roth did. He looked down, seeing Jacob on his knees looking back up, and watched him as he took his hard member in his mouth. Roth's jaw fell with a whimpering snarl as he felt Jacob suck his cheeks in. He dropped his hands to his sides, pressing them flat against the wall, letting go of Jacob's in the process. Roth moaned his name as he succumbed to the sheer sensation of Jacob bobbing his head up and down. Jacob moaned when heard Roth moan, sending slight vibrations down his throat as he picked up the pace which sent Roth wild.
"Slower." Roth gasped, groaning at the mounting pleasure drowning out his finer senses.
Jacob drank in the sight of Roth squirming as he looked up through his eyelashes. He dragged his hands lazily to Roth's back, digging his fingers in to push him forward and deeper into his hot mouth.
"Jacob-my darl-uuhh!"Roth cried, leaning back against Jacob's hands as dug into his back. He moaned mercifully when Jacob ran his tongue down the length of his cock, ducking his head back up swiftly to suck Roth between his lips with one longing gulp. Roth fisted his hand in Jacob's hair, urging his mouth further onto his throbbing cock. The assassin concentrated and sucked slowly, using Roth's urgency to torment him. "I'm going to come." Roth cried out, making eye contact with Jacob as he bobbed his head lighter but faster. Reaching a peak as Roth's muscles began to tremble, Jacob pulled away, tracing the fingers of one hand across Roth's hipbones and stomach with feather-light touch.
"Come hard for me." Jacob purred, sucking just the tip for a moment before taking more of Roth in his mouth.
"Don't stop-" Roth bit off his words when Jacob hummed in reply, groaning at the sensation. "I'm so close-ahh-" He moaned, panting, his voice strained trying to sedate his will to come in Jacob's mouth straight away. "-Jac-uh-uuhh!" Roth came hard in Jacob's mouth, making Jacob cough reactively. He struggled to maintain steady breathing as he leant his weight back against the wall, watching swallow and lick his lips as he stood up.
The gantry catwalk shook slightly as he stood up, supporting his weight on the wooden beams. Jacob was transfixed as he watched Roth catch his breath, half-naked and His chest heaved, catching the light as though it was carved from marble, pale and decorated with cuts like the lines running through it. Roth was a fighter, his body showed that, and Jacob was attracted to that in him; the fierceness that cut his teeth when he smiled.
Jacob sat back down on the catwalk to tighten his boots, he let Roth redress with the expectation of an audience. Roth's shoes clicked on the wood as he walked towards Jacob, who had finished tightening his boots, he noticed them stop in front of him. He looked up with curious eyes as he went to stand up but was halted by Roth's hand on his chin, angling his head upwards, letting him plant a soft kiss on Jacob's cheek.
"I wish there was room on the roof." Roth whispered into Jacob's ear as he offered his hand out to help him up. He let Jacob climb down the ladder first, walking behind him with his hand on resting on the small of Jacob's back, resisting the temptation to return the favour but they were both busy men. Roth was busy trying live while Jacob was doing all he could not to get himself killed being the good guy.
With two days left, Roth indulged his pleasures to their height. He became aware, in quiet moments as he concentrated on Jacob's chest rising and falling, that he had to, now, because this was all the time they had.
They lay on a bed on the floor of the stage, their feet tangled together in a blanket but their bodies exposed to the warmth and lights of the theatre. The stage was set for the show upcoming, Jacob noticed that it was using the bed from that dressing room backstage.
Jacob felt Roth wrap his arms around his waist, pulling Jacob towards him. Roth's mouth curled upwards as Jacob lay flat on his back, letting the older man lay on his side looking over the assassin.
"Round two?" Jacob asked, cocking a smile, the sweat on his skin glistening dully in the muted stage lights.
"If I had the time, my darling, I'd fuck you 'till you choked on my name. Until your throat was hoarse from crying, and until you could see the sun touch the ceiling. I'd lie back and drown in the thrill of the sweet feeling of you inside me, but I've no time today." Roth didn't care that he was exposing his weakness to Jacob, he felt safe in his hands.
Jacob was turned on by Roth's musings as he watched his lips shape the words 'darling' and 'fuck'. He felt calm next to Roth, comfortable even. He let Roth's answer be enough as he combed his hand down Roth's neck and Roth ran his hand through Jacob's hair.
"Can you hear that?" A sound caught the assassin's attention.
"What?"
"Those birds. It must be early."
"I'm used to them."
"I'll catch you one and you can keep it. My gift to you: taming animals." Jacob let out a lighthearted laugh.
"If I caught a bird I wouldn't know what to do with it, honestly."
"But you have a crow."
"I own a crow. It's different. I could snap his neck any second. You misunderstand me, my dear. What I'm trying to say is-" Roth stumbled around his words. "-if I were to catch you I wouldn't know what to do with you. I can't own you and cage you like I can my crow. That's why we just play games, I think. We just fool around with each other to rattle the cage but not have to deal with the consequences. We're strange bedfellows playing dangerous games." He took Jacob's hand from over his chest and wound their fingers together. "We don't mean it."
"I don't know what I want, Max. I just know that I want you."
"Mr Frye, don't embarrass yourself. We were just having fun."
"No-"
"-don't apologise. Apologise for nothing. Everybody is weak-" There was a weakness in Roth's eyes that told of his fear of losing something.
"Roth. I want you." Jacob didn't plead but he let his voice betray the strength in his declaration. Roth didn't dismiss him but he looked solemnly at Jacob with a sadness in his eyes that he couldn't put to words. If he'd tried it would have sounded something like 'I'm a selfish bastard. And it's come to this. You break my heart, Jacob Frye'.
"This doesn't change things between us, my dear." Roth tipped Jacob's chin up with his fingers. "We're even. Your compass is still pointed south, I'm just further south." He pressed his lips to Jacob's neck effortlessly. "Maybe you'll find your way back to me some day, but that's not today. But, my darling boy: what a ride!" Roth shifted his body so that he sat up against the back of the bed. His slipped his hand up to Jacob's cheek, brushing his thumb under his eye. He smiled slightly but didn't mean it. "Go on, get dressed, get out of here. You've got work to do, I'm sure. Cats up trees in need of rescue." He joked, but a fierceness had returned to his voice that he'd lost with Jacob of late.
"Cats up trees can wait, Max-"
"-you do what you have to do and then think about coming back." He pushed him out f the bed with his feet, watching as he searched for his clothes strewn about the stage and got dressed. Jacob approached the bed when he had dressed, carrying his shoes. "Put on your shoes. You've got some running up buildings to do.
As he walked away, his chest feeling heavy under the weight of confusion and guilt, Jacob heard Roth call after him.
"Jacob!" He spoke like he had forgotten something, but something contrived so as to get the last word. "I've a gift for you. I think you'll like it"
"I don't like surprises."
"Surprise is the spice of life! Call it a Valentine."
"It's November."
"Call it a leaving gift, then. I feel that our dealings are at an end. I'll send it you." Jacob politely assumed that Roth needed his space, as Jacob did too at times and left without trouble. But, as he walked away from Roth on the stage, in silence; stripped to the waist, naked and shameless, the silence sank them both into the pits of their stomach.
The sixth day of the week came, to which Jacob was still blissfully unaware. Roth hadn't said anything to Jacob outright, and he didn't talk in his sleep for Jacob to have heard and asked questions.
Evie was sat cross-legged in front of the fire, examining a map of London at her feet with a lamp. She folded it up as she stood up, walking to the desk in the corner upon which lay a pile of books, a knife, an empty glass and a large wooden box with a letter on the top.
"Something was left here for you, on the doorstep. I brought it in for you."
"Thanks."He picked it up to test the weight, unable to work out much about its appearance in the relative darkness, before turning to Evie. "Any luck?"
"None,but I haven't had much time to look."
"I'll ask Henry what's been preoccupying you." He smiled in a passive aggressive manner.
"Very funny, Jacob." She turned to look at her younger brother, younger by twelve minutes, and cocked a smile at him. "I think it's from your new business partner, it looks important." Intrigued, he opened the box after examining it carefully for irregularities and took out a black birdcage from inside it. Confused about its significance, he opened the letter and read it to himself: 'Corvus the Trickster. For one night only. The last performance by this sly devil.' Jacob dropped the cage and ran to the door, flying down the stairs and out the front door.
He ran the distance to the Alhambra, frightened by the mystery of Roth's gift. He was certain that Roth's empty birdcage spelled harm, as he tried to work out where Roth's beloved crow could be.
They always knew that one would kill the other. Destruction came with their territory and they were just collateral damage. Self destruction wasn't in their nature but when faced with a pressuring force, an equal and opposing force was created. It was all fun and games, setting fire to their lives, until they breathed in the smoke.
The smoke curled up into the clear night, it caught Jacob's eye. The accompanying flames licked along the lines of the smoke. He ran upstairs and climbed out onto the roof, searching out where the smoke was coming from. He chased it down, watching the smoke billow into the sky and the flames grow. He found the fire, raging, and his heart sank in his chest. A voice called him, sounding almost proud.
"This was my one." Roth's eyes glowed against the fire. "I wanted to get your attention." His ruthless smile seemed more genuine in this half light. The smell of burning wood filled his nostrils, hanging in the air as the Alhambra caught gradually.
"Roth." He said the name with sadness, approaching him as he simply stood in front of Paradise burning. "Roth!" He shouted now, growing angry and agitated that Roth would do this. "We're not playing games any more, Roth. Are we?"
"I thought that killing him would be bad for business, so I didn't. But then, I played a game in my head, of cat and mouse and look who got caught." Roth splayed his palms, spreading his fingers apart as though he was washing his hands of this, accepting that it was always going to happen. "He won't be happy until he's razed this city to the ground, and we're left swimming in the filth he's brought down upon us. And I'm supposed to lay down and die? No. I'll drown the tosser. I'll pull him down myself and anchor him to the hands on that fucking clock. I'm not letting him do this to me, to what I've built! Not like this, not my life."
"Roth-"
"But I've got no more time. All I've got left I've borrowed from Lewis. Jacob-" He stopped. "Jacob. This is my last night. Tomorrow, it's the seventh day of the week and Starrick gave me the week. He's good to his word. I've got one last night: make it yours." Roth sincerity intimidated Jacob suddenly, knowing that he meant this. He paused to think, his head began to hurt as he tried to make sense of everything Maxwell was telling him.
"You're throwing this on me a little, Max." Jacob edged in, trying for time to work things out for himself and think about what he might do.
"Oh, throw me to the wolves, then, Jacob!" He shouted, incensed and passionate. He stopped moving and took in the assassin for a moment, the beauty that he was, and Roth's voice fell flat. "This is all for you."
"What for!" Jacob cried, confused and angry at the older man.
"Because we are strange bedfellows who play dangerous games and I fell in love with you a little. I fell for you, and I think you're falling for me and you don't know what to do with that fact." Roth walked up to him to address him, touching his wrist and then the scar on his eyebrow. "Starrick knows what I've done. So, this is me." He wasn't afraid of running out of time, he was a gambling man, he knew the risks he was taking when he went into this. It was the fear of losing Jacob that caused him to do this: the fear of disappearing into the dark without anyone knowing. "That's the thing about dirty dealings, when you get caught your empire falls down around you. Starrick's seeing to that." Roth danced around Jacob suddenly, wrapping his arms around Jacob's chest and waist from behind. "I might be dragging you down, darling, but you knew I would. Don't say this came as a surprise."
"Why, though, Roth? Why do this?!" He leaned into Roth's neck as Roth let him go.
"Why, love?" Roth blinked, stepping apart from Jacob. His eyes were wide with fear and excitement, his mouth twisted into an honest grin. His hands met Jacob's, one gripping the wrist raised against him wielding the hidden blade, the other wrapping around the hand at his own throat. The fingers of his hand that held back the assassin's one at his throat dug between Jacob's fingers, trying to intertwine them. "Why not?" Jacob ceased and put him down, dropping his arm from Roth's throat. He warmed to Jacob's touch as a fire in a wasteland, taking all he could before he couldn't anymore. "You think I want this? This end, me: chewed up and spat out and my neck broken? I don't want that." Jacob stumbled with his words, trying not to touch him.
"And you think I want this, Roth? Do you think I want to-?"
"No harm, no foul, no quarter. Nothing done under duress." He muttered, reaching his hand out to Jacob. He looked down at Roth's open upturned palm and placed his hand into it, watching Roth move. "I won't make you do anything you don't want to, I'd just like one last dance." He brought Jacob's hand up and bent his hand back, triggering the hidden blade up his sleeve, then guiding the knife to his throat. "A little fun with the bravest man in London." He looked Jacob in the eye as he spoke again. "If you don't, I'll wait for Starrick and the inevitable. Curtains." If Roth was anything, he wasn't a coward. "I just thought you'd like the collar. If I can give you anything, I can give you that."
Jacob was quiet, taking it all in. He was confused, searching Roth's eyes for answers that he already had. He grabbed Roth by the arm and pulled him into the nearest alley, away from the smoke as best as they could be. With Roth's guidance, Jacob placed his hand to Roth's neck as it had been a minute before; the blade beneath his wrist teasing open the skin at Roth's throat.
Saying nothing, they kissed. Strange that it was their first kiss that meant something, as Roth died, pulling Jacob into to him like all angry and desperate lovers do. Somehow they'd never found the time to be what they were: angry, desperate lovers. They were always too busy playing with their food to commit to the feeling that brought them together. It wasn't an apology, because Roth apologised for nothing. This kiss was a love letter; a bitter acceptance that it was ending, a goodbye that had no words, a final, desperate attempt at feeling fucking something to remind Roth that it wasn't all worthless. His caged bird was free of its cage as Jacob knocked Roth's hand away from his in shock, feeling all the more vulnerable for Roth's passion at this moment.
Jacob sliced his throat in turmoil, pulling away from the kiss with dispassionate lips and betrayed eyes. He looked down at Roth as his body fell back against the wall, his eyes wide and catching the light of the flames. He instinctively placed his hands behind Roth's head and lower back, guiding him to the ground as he had done when they'd waltzed.
He was half surprised Roth's blood wasn't black.
It was only really as Roth was bleeding out at Jacob's feet did it mean something. He felt weak for a moment as Roth had tried to cling onto the last thing he had loved and Jacob had seen nothing but danger in the man. He couldn't hide from it as it stained his shoes and his hands and his mouth. Roth had pushed him until he'd snapped: a bittersweet last dance on the seventh night of the week. Jacob had killed his lover in cold blood, a Valentine in November that chased him home as he ran.
He tore through his front door and ran up the stairs to his room as quietly as he could, needing the confinement of his room to keep him alone. His clothes smelled of smoke as he ripped them off, peeling the ones that stuck. Jacob washed his hands desperately, splashing water on his face when he'd finished. He pushed his hand against his chest, listening for the snap that told him to stop that he was sure could have been his heart if he'd concentrated. His dislocated finger was fixed with the push. Looking at himself in the mirror, Jacob raised his fingers to his lips, unable to get rid of the smell of Roth's blood, and touched them to his lower lip gently. He stared blankly at his face, looking for answers that he didn't have, and just got into bed; leaving his empire around him: scattered clothes around his bed. He closed his eyes but couldn't sleep.
In the silence that settled over his room as he lay there, turned over facing the inside wall, with his eyes closed tightly; he heard the quiet, soft steps of feet as Evie closed his bedroom door behind him, letting him sleep.
He couldn't say anything to her to tell her that he was grateful that she left him. She could smell blood on Jacob as he barged past her. She knew, even if he didn't, that sleep was all that could help him tonight.
