Roth took on his role as teacher with more rigor and eagerness than Jacob had been expecting; which, in hindsight, he really should have expected all along. Roth was all too happy to show Jacob the ways of his kin, to show him the new dark avenues of skill sets he now possessed. Jacob just wished the man would do it with a little less orthodoxy. He tried to ignore the irony of that thought when it struck him. Somewhere, Evie was rolling.

Then again, the chaotic way in which Roth approached his life and everything (and one) in it was exactly the reason why Jacob had been drawn to him in the first place. Damn it.

"This is ridiculous," Jacob muttered under his breath as he slipped into the manor house for yet another odd training session. It wasn't that these little "missions" of Roth's were odd in and of themselves. After all, Jacob was no stranger to breaking in and entering – and that was the least of the crimes he had broken. But it was why he was here that struck him as odd; made it hard to take the mission seriously.

Jacob had gone from murdering cruel men to stealing odd trinkets from old and young ladies alike – among other things and people.

"It's a small thing," Roth had said, smoothing out the crisp shoulders of Jacob's coat as he explained. A soft nose behind his ear, disturbing the short hairs behind it; a soft breath. "A brooch. Shaped like a hummingbird, inlaid with diamonds and sapphires and emeralds. You'll bring me this, won't you, darling?"

Jacob resisted the urge to clench a fist, annoying by the triviality of these targets. Roth had long become accustomed to his body language. If he did anything even remotely insinuating that he thought Roth was wasting his time, the man would waste no time in rushing out of the room in a huff – and Jacob would have to wait that much longer for his much needed lessons.

"Of course," Jacob purred back, smirking. Roth grinned, excited, happy to have Jacob in on the joke. To be on the same page. To be close. Jacob straightened the lapels of his coat and moved to make for the window, "I'll have that for you before your last glass of red for the night –"

"Ah, ah, ah," Roth tutted, amused. Jacob pulled up short, confused. "Don't you want to hear the rules of your little escapade?"

Jacob frowned.

"Don't use any doors or windows manually, smoke only. Like always."

Roth smiled, "You've gotten quite good at though, my dear, time to up the ante. No doors, no windows – smoke to enter the building. However, once you're inside, I want you to persuade the woman to give it to you. Or a butler or a servant. Hell, her husband. But you are not allowed to snatch it yourself."

"They'll remember me, surely?" Jacob started, then shook his head and said, scandalized, "And how the hell am I supposed to persuade them?"

"Like this," Roth croaked in what Jacob thought might have been an attempt at a purr, his throat too abused for much more than a rocky rumble. And then the man – the vampire, Jacob reminded himself – was close to him, deep in his space. A breath between their lips, their eyes locked. "Confidence is key, darling. When you ask them of something, you don't ask, not really. But make it sound soft. Like it's their idea."

Jacob took a step back. Roth followed.

"Eye contact. Very important, particularly for a pup as young as yourself. And desire. You have to want it, Jacob. You have to want the end result more than they want to resist you," he said. Jacob could practically feel the man's whiskers on his lips. He didn't realize how far he had backed up until his knees met the bed. He tumbled back and Roth followed. His eyes were red like the Alhambra's flames – deep glimmering coals that drew him from his body, left him feeling disconnected and weightless.

"I think you'll do just fine," Roth said, and Jacob felt he would – because surely the man was right. "And for that little lesson, I think I deserve a reward. A kiss? Surely that would not be too costly. Just the right so of generous, don't you think?"

And he did think. Jacob hesitated, his breath a stutter lodged in his chest. His eyes fluttered, confused for just a moment, before rushing up to meet Roth – eager to give his gift.

Roth's lips were surprisingly soft for a man with a voice so rough, with hands so cruel, with a mind so dark. His mustache was an odd, scratchy thing that Jacob had never felt before. So unlike a woman. So unlike anything he had ever felt before. Suddenly, the lips against his were smiling. Hands creeping into the hem of his trousers, pulling free his freshly tucked shirt and – no!

Jacob hauled the man off, twisted off the bed and rushed to the side of the room – fingers at his lips. His eyes were wide in the way he imagine a virgin woman's might, and that made him feel young and pink in the cheeks. Angry. Fooled.

"What did you… How… Why did you do that?!"

There was a moment where Roth looked put out, his hands still posed to undress Jacob. But without missing another beat, he slipped back into persona and laughed grandly. His long fingers sought out the wine glass on the dresser, a thick syrupy batch of fresh blood tossing gently inside the swell of its cup.

"You wanted to learn, dear heart, did you not?" Roth chuckled, sipping from his glass as he locked his dark eyes upon him. Hungry and hunting.

That was their first kiss, Jacob realized. And if what Roth said was true – that you had to want it more than your target wanted to resist… Jacob's ears flushed and Roth smiled like a lion, knowing what he had just realized.

What else was the man willing to take?

"A kiss, darling, is all I've ever force from you," he said, setting down his glass as he lazily crossed a single finger in an X atop his heart. "Nothing more. Not against your will. What would be the fun in that? I like a willing playmate."

If he had a heart, it'd be pounding. Instead, Jacob rushed across the room before Roth could mess with him any longer and tried to ignore his sire's laughter as he flung the window open and leapt into the cool, crisp freedom of London's night sky.

That's how he found himself here, several hallways deep into a strange woman's home – looking for some godforsaken brooch shaped like a bird and hoping he could find someone feeble minded enough to just give it to him. A maid, perhaps. Maybe he could charm the owner of the brooch herself. A nice lay in return for a finely inlaid brooch sounded like just the ticket.

But that quickly brought him back to thoughts of Roth and Roth's bed, Roth's lips, Roth's kiss. Taken against his will as though he were some fair maiden to be swept off his feet. It had been a supernatural power asserted over him, he knew, but that didn't reduce any of the sting.

He didn't know what was worse. The fact that Roth had taken that kiss against his will or the fact that somewhere deep in his gut, he knew he probably would have given that kiss to the man freely before all this had happened. Before the factory. Before the bite.

Even now, he was not so sure he wouldn't… He rubbed the scars on his neck – faint now, almost gone. Against all rationality, part of him wanted to be with Roth; and it was a feeling that grew every day. The desire to please him. To grow to extent and with such progress that it made him proud. It was the bite, he knew. After one last visit to Evie – only to drop off a letter letting her know he was in fact alive and that he would seek her out once he was sure he could control himself – he had taken all the notes she had received from Dickens.

Sympathy for the sire, and often times more, was not unheard. The only question was: was the bite the only thing to blame?

"Hello?" a soft voice, a woman's. "Who's there?"

Jacob was torn from his thoughts as the lights in the hallway suddenly turned on – forcing him quickly into a corner where he could dematerialize into the shadows and observe.

The woman in question was dressed in night clothing, and at the sight of an empty hallway, she couldn't help but shiver.

"I could have sworn…" she whispered before shaking her head and turning out the lights. She disappeared around the corner and Jacob released himself from the shadows – breathing hard like he had been holding his breath. As if he needed it.

Holding himself in that state – like fine particles of soft, fine black sand upheld in a sentient wind – was difficult. He had been getting better at it, thanks to Roth's insistence that he only enter or exit with the use of that ability, but he could still only hold it for thirty to forty seconds at a time, at best. Often times less.

He shook out his limbs, trying to reduce the soft burning he felt within them, and sharply reminded himself to stay focused on the task at hand. He had to persuade someone to fetch that brooch – but most likely said owner of that brooch was asleep in the very room that held it… So going to the source was probably his best bet and the more he thought of it, maybe not as impossible as it seemed.

So with great care, he found himself slipping silently through the halls once more – his eyes seeking out the woman he needed now that he had a plan in mind. She was a floor up, he found out, and in a room at the heart of the estate. She didn't sleep in the same room as her husband – thank whatever deity be watching over him – and was alone, asleep, and blissfully unaware of him.

He crept to her bedside with a silence that disturbed him sometimes and gently lowered himself unlike he was sitting at her side and hunched over to whisper in her ear.

"You're quite lovely, you know," he whispered charmingly, the way he might of if he had met her at a party. And she was, actually, quite lovely. Pale marble skin with creamy red hair that curled along her shoulders and haloed her head. He brushed a stray hair back as she stirred, as though waking, and so he thought of what Roth said and focused.

"Stay asleep," he suggested kindly, "You need to rest to maintain such loveliness. Be at ease. I won't let anything happen to you. Rest and listen to me instead."

There was a moment when he could have sworn he felt his heart flutter in his chest – anxious that the compulsion wouldn't work, that Roth had lied and set him up for failure. That he wouldn't be able to accomplish this without eye contact. But where he lacked that direct path into the mind, he had something better – more malleable. A sleeping target and a dreaming, unguarded subconscious. Whatever she experienced here tonight, she'd attribute to dreams. Any resistance she might have had, gone to the lesser inhibitions of a dreaming mind.

So when she settled back against her pillows with a little smile and a soft sigh, Jacob couldn't help but feel excited. He did it – Roth would be so…

He squashed down the thought, a frown suddenly bleeding onto his face. He wasn't here to please Roth. He was here to learn to control the gifts that lunatic had stuffed into his blood and use them to kill Starrick. Focus, Jacob, bloody focus.

The woman beside him mumbled uncomfortably, his unease leaking into her dreams. He smoothed back her hair again and apologized with a soft whisper and another gentle compulsion. And then he closed his eyes and imagined her – imagined what she might be seeing now.

They were at a party, and despite the crowd around them, they felt alone together. The balcony was a huge, grand thing that overlooked a vast garden – not that she noticed, what with how her eyes were focused on him. She was dressed in a gorgeous gown befitting of her nimble figure, her curls pulled beautifully atop her head, and pinned kindly upon her shoulder was the brooch he had orders to retrieve – glimmering innocently just in front of him.

He was done up in a smart looking tux. He had to admit, he cleaned up nice – not as though he didn't already know that. He had to hold back a shiver when he thought he could hear Roth purring in his ear, "Don't get too cozy with her, darling; don't forget who you come home to."

Jacob shook his head to clear away the thought.

The woman frowned, concerned, and brushed a gentle hand against his forearm.

"Are you quite alright? You looked faint for a moment."

Jacob pulled at his collar, trying to ignore the turmoil in his mind and focus as he chuckled, "It's hard not to feel faint in the face of beauty such as yours."

Good recovery, he praised himself. Somewhere, he could have sworn he felt Roth frown.

The woman flushed and averted her gaze coyly.

"It's been a long time since a man has said such a thing to me."

"My dear lady," Jacob said theatrically on a whisper and caught her hand. "He's a daft and foolish man if he doesn't say that to you every day," he said, punctuating it with a kind kiss to first her knuckles, "Every morning," the top of her hand, "every evening," the curve of thumb joint, "and every night," he said with a final, gentle twist of her hand and a kiss upon her wrist. She was trembling, now. Not in love with him, but the idea of him. He felt a pang, knowing he had wrapped her in a lie just as Roth had done to him.

"That's very kind of you to say," she said, finally, when she found the words to speak.

"Would you dance with me, my lady," he asked, suddenly, as though overpowered by excitement and puppy love. "If only once before your husband steals you back?"

Her 'yes' she let out on a breath, as though swept away by the mere thought of it.

It was while they danced that he finally mentioned it, after a quick question about her childhood and a short tale about his own – the Creed omitted, of course. He told her of Evie, and made up a quick tale about his sister's absolute love of hummingbirds. How she was marrying a man from another country quite soon and he wanted a gift to give that she could remember him by.

"Do you have any suggestions?" He asked.

With a bright smile that made Jacob nearly flinch to see, knowing how he had twisted her to achieve, she got up on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear and say, "I have just the thing."

When Jacob opened his eyes, it was because the bed was dipping – first in, as the woman shifted her weight to rise – then up as she vacated the bed as a sleepwalker might and made her way across the room to her dresser. There, with eyes half closed, she picked up a large box of expensive bobbles and jewelry, and Jacob couldn't help but watch as her fingers skimmed along it's little slots until finally she pulled out a familiar brooch. She walked back to the bed and faced him, her smile bright but her eyes distant in a way that made Jacob sick, and held it out to him.

"For your sister," she whispered.

He wrapped his hand around hers, turned it in his own, and kissed the soft flesh of her wrist as he gently took the brooch from her.

"I will never forget your kindness," he said.

And as he gently guided her to lie back down she whispered, "Nor will I yours."

He left her smiling in her sleep when he slipped through her bedroom door and out the hall window in a mist of fine, black sand. When he reconstructed himself in the alley outside her estate, he tipped his hat to her window before stalking down London's sprawling, dark streets – hands in his pockets and the brooch a heavy weight within them.

He hoped her husband would start appreciating her. He hoped if he didn't, she'd wake up and see she could have better. He knew neither would happen. That's just not how London worked, lately…

As he headed home, he thought about catching a meal. He'd be starving come evening tomorrow, if he didn't – what with how many skills he had utilized tonight. But the thought of hunting down a Blighter to eat left him feeling exhausted. Surely missing one meal wouldn't matter. Plus, he needed to start exercising restraint, right? It was a long road back to Roth's estate and daybreak was on its way. If he found a Blighter on the way home, great, he decided. If not, he'd live.

When he brought the brooch back to Roth, it wasn't to the excitement he had expected the man to have. It didn't stop him from blundering through the window in a flurry of fine sand and vent about how amazing but how terrible that little gift was.

"I can't believe it worked," he stressed, twirling to toss the fine piece of jewelry onto Roth's lap before throwing his hands in the air, "First try! I'm not sure I like the implication of forcing someone against their will, but I do know someone I would love to make put a gun to their head and shoot!"

Jacob sat down onto the bed with a pleased huff before starting to pull his boots from his feet. He was exhausted, suddenly – morning had quite nearly followed him home and he had only just made it back in time. He was ready for bed; so ready, in fact, he missed the horrid weight of Roth's silence until he had both boots flying into the corner.

"What?" He asked, eyeing the man with a wry and combative grin. "You can't possibly be upset. I did everything as you asked, to the letter."

Jacob resisted the urge to shift uncomfortably beneath Roth's gaze as the man regarded him from the little table he had set up in Jacob's room at his estate. Spacious accommodations – as generous as they were pricey. Jacob sighed from the end of his bed and threw out his arms.

"What? What could I possibly have done wrong? Was it the flirting? I could have sworn I hear you – "

"Did you eat?"

"What?" Jacob asked, caught off guard.

"Did you eat, Jacob," Roth asked, standing slowly, suddenly.

"I—" he started, but the sentence petered off. His mind fumbled for words, but he couldn't find any. He hadn't thought Roth would check. He had trusted him until now to fend for himself after missions. Why…?

"There were plenty of opportunities, no doubt, on your way home?"

"No, actually," Jacob started, then stopped when he realized why Roth was mad. His gazed jerked up to glare at Roth. "We've discussed this."

"Blighters will not be around forever, darling," he said as he came to stand between the part in Jacob's legs. Jacob refused to be cowed, however, knowing the man to be using his personal space to throw him off guard. So he didn't budge as the man grew closer – his hands exploring his face and gliding through his hair – his face suddenly kind. "Why should I train you if you just intend to starve yourself?"

"Because we made a deal."

"A deal," Roth repeated as he lowered himself to whisper in Jacob's ear. "Yes. I do believe you promised you'd stay with me, darling."

"I'm here, aren't I?"

"I suppose you are… But if you keep skipping meals because of your warped sense of morals," Roth said, he pleasant words turning quickly into a snarl, "I don't think you'll like how…difficult…your skills will quickly become. Do not presume to think yourself so quick a study that you can afford to skip your meals so soon."

"Or else what?" Jacob asked, snide, annoyed by the lecture – hackles raising as thoughts of carless arguments with Evie brought him on edge.

"Oh you have nothing to fear from me, darling," Roth purred, slipping from his legs suddenly as though he were not threatening Jacob a mere moment ago – all pleasantness returned. "Continue as you are, you'll only have yourself to blame. Let's just leave it at that."

"What -?"

"See you tomorrow evening. You best prepare yourself, it'll be harder than the last."

And just like that, Roth was gone – leaving Jacob to stew in the aftermath of their little spat; rolling over his words in his head as he tried to ignore the stung feeling at realizing that Roth had never praised him that night.

He did, however, take the brooch before he left.

[A/N]

I truly apologize for the sudden lack of updates. I needed time to figure out where I wanted this story to go and how to do it. Add in moving, a lot of field production work, and a lot of not being home lately thanks to late hours - well, as you can imagine, there hasn't been a lot of time to write. But I appreciate those kind souls who kept commenting and sending words of encouragement.