Over a year later and I remember to update this! I'm basically active on A03 now and I return to FFN when I remember too. Updating just for the sake of it. Thanks to those who have stuck with the story.

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Chapter Seventeen: Slipping Through the Cracks

Jacob awoke to the drizzle of rain. Standing outside in the rain was never a pleasant experience, but remaining indoors and listening to the sound was oddly comforting. The scent itself helped him relax; it was hard to describe the smell, but it did have a distinct earthly feel to it. There was a word for it, but he couldn't quite recall the exact term.

Normally, wet days meant stay indoors and formulate strategies, but sitting down and listening to Evie and Henry prattle on about plans was the last thing he wanted to do. Victory at the Steelworks Factory and at the Board Laid Bare had made him eager for more excitement, and he wasn't going to get any lazing around here. The Wolf's threat had been clear - The Templars were going to retaliate. Unfortunately, they didn't have the numbers right now to withstand a frontal assault.

They needed more power in the form of more men and women. Those he had recruited from the factory were too weak to be of any use. They were still in the early stages of recovering from the mental and physical wounds the Templars had left upon them. He had to look elsewhere for reinforcements, but where? Throwing his legs over the side of the bed, he pushed himself up then helped himself to his trench coat. The bruises from the previous fights had turned a dark shade of grey, but they didn't dampen his spirits. As long as he was able to fight, he didn't care how many he had. Once dressed appropriately, he headed downstairs.

He found Evie and Henry sitting down at a table. Paul was at the counter showing some of the Rooks how to take orders correctly, whilst Abraham, Tiny and Charles were lounging at the table closest to the fireplace. Charles caught his eye and nodded. Jacob tilted his head forwards in response. He headed down the stairs then made his way to the table occupied by his fellow Assassins.

"You're up awfully early," Jacob commented, sitting down besides Clara. He then noticed the plates on the table. Either breakfast had been served much earlier than usual or he had overslept. He leaned towards the latter. Last night had been a late one. "So… I was thinking we need more people."

Evie grabbed her glass of water and brought the rim to her lips. She took a few mouthfuls then set it back down and looked at him with an expression that could only be interpreted as 'why?' "The beds are close to being filled."

"We need more trained fighters," Jacob corrected. He glanced around the tavern. Many of the people he had rescued at the factory were present still. Some of those present at the bar last night had also arrived. The majority of them looked more dead than alive but in time he knew they would improve.

"These people are not fighters," Henry said.

Jacob nodded. "Which is why we must look elsewhere for additional firepower."

"What are you planning, brother?"

He looked at his sister and grinned. "Something fun."

She lifted a brow. "Would you like to explain?"

"We've dealt the Templars a major blow, right? Let's continue to punish them. We have their maps and they give us the locations of their main boroughs." He leaned forward, elbows resting on the table. "Strike them when they're still in the recovery process and recruit more followers in the process."

Henry shook his head."I disagree. We should be using this time to make plans for the future. The Templars will retaliate. We should be spending our time ensuring this place is fortified and making sure the Rooks are ready for a true battle. The victory at the Steelworks Factory was impressive, but that was just the beginning."

"It's too risky, Jacob," Evie said, stifling a yawn. "At this very moment, I'm sure Bloody Nora is preparing an army to fight back, and you would rather spend the remainder of today recruiting? We should use this day for other means."

He narrowed his eyes. "Surely, you see the benefit? More men at our sides. More people and we have a better chance of surviving whatever the Templars throw at us," he explained. "Come on, Evie. I need you at my side. You know I'm right about this." He looked at her straight in the eyes. They were full of questions and doubts, but Evie, being the supportive sister she was, would come to her senses and agree with him as always. He counted on that family bond to make her realize.

"All right. We'll find another borough."

He grinned. He knew she'd come around to see his way of doing things. "Great. I'll summon the Rooks, whilst you carry on studying that map. We'll head on out as soon as you're ready. You know the lads are itching for some action after the excitement at the factory yesterday. They can feel it – we're so close to obtaining victory." He stood up from the table and turned his head towards the fireplace.

Before Evie could speak further, Jacob left. He walked over to pay some of his Rooks a visit. Abraham, Tiny and Charles were in deep conversation about something and stopped talking as soon as he neared them. He wandered what words had been exchanged. Charles smiled. "Morning, boss. We were just talking about recent events."

Jacob remained standing, both hands resting on the edge of the table. Tiny greeted him with a slight nod of the head, but didn't speak a word. Strange lad, Jacob thought. Tiny's refusal to trade sentences with him gave Jacob the impression the man mountain didn't like him very much. Either that, or was he was incapable of stringing a few coherent sentences together. At least Abraham and Charles were more open with him. "About our victory, I'm assuming?"

Abraham reached into his pocket and pulled out a rolled up piece of newspaper. He laid it out on the table, unfolded it then turned to the second page. There was a picture of the policeman Isaac. Beneath it was a short article. He scanned the words. This criminal is not working alone. He leads a group of thugs and they follow him blindly. London has never seen a monster of this scale before. We will not rest until he has been brought to justice.

Jacob was briefly reminded of the conversation he had with the policeman during his short stay in prison. So the man was still determined to find him and make him pay for the 'errors of his ways'. "You've got them scared, boss," Abraham said, chuckling. "Rumour has it we're the most feared gang in London now. You've attracted quite the following." Abraham turned his attention to the following page. There was a sketch of him over the Templar Thomas with the hidden blade drawn.

Months had passed since he had started the recruiting process. It was hard to believe that so much time had flown by. It seemed like only yesterday that he had recruited Charles and his men into their cause. Jacob read the lines beneath the image. Some comments came from readers fearing for their lives, but quite a few congratulated 'The Midnight Assassin' for bringing equality back to the streets.

That filled him with an unexplainable sense of joy. Their influence was spreading and their efforts were finally being recognized by the public. Some still lived in fear and uncertainty, but there was a growing number of people starting to realize he wasn't some dangerous murderous beast. That alone was enough to celebrate. "What do you lads say about celebrating our victory?" Jacob said.

"What did you have in mind, boss?" Charles said, glancing up from the paper. "Not another bar, I hope?"

He shook his head. "I'm thinking we'll go on a Templar hunt. There are still a few lesser boroughs in the area that could do with some cleansing," Jacob remarked. "Think of this as your last practice session before we finish this for good. There's a battle approaching, I can feel it, but we're not quite ready yet."

Tiny frowned. "But boss, haven't we already got enough people?"

Jacob looked at him, surprised. At last the giant spoke! "We can never have enough. There's always room for more people. We're saving lives, lads. Our actions are freeing the suffering from oppression. We're doing them a favour. Now why don't you three help yourselves to some weapons so we can get this hunt started?" The Rooks didn't say anything. He grinned again, pleased. "When you're ready, meet Evie and I outside."

"Sure thing, boss."

The trio climbed to their feet and abandoned the table to prepare themselves. Jacob waited until they had left his sight then turned around to search for his sister. She was still seated. She turned her head and caught his eye then nodded. A nod of approval. At least, that's how he understood it. Soon, this city would be theirs for the taking.

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Three Rooks had risen to their feet. Evie watched them leave and wondered where her brother had sent them to. Henry glanced up from the map and frowned. "Are you listening?"

She turned to him, startled, then nodded. "Of course."

"Your mind went elsewhere."

She sighed. "I'm thinking about my brother and his plans for the remainder of today." There was still the matter of speaking with Henry over the information Lucy had mentioned, but that would have to wait until later. For now, it was business first. Personal issues could be solved another time.

"I figured as much," Henry replied. He pushed the map aside and motioned for her to sit back down. She did. "You don't like that he wants to go back out there again. You feel we should stay low for awhile and plan for tough times ahead."

"Was it that obvious?"

"You always put your brother before everything else, Evie."

Evie leaned back in her seat and bit down her lower lip. Jacob's plan was foolish. He planned to go back out there in the open so soon after clearing out a factory when police and Templars would be patrolling the streets all over London? Perhaps the thrill of success was getting to him. It hadn't gone unnoticed how he paraded around the tavern as if the war had already been won. But like the loyal sister she was, she wasn't going to dissuade him from turning his plan into action. "I want to help him, but he's making it difficult for me." She placed her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her hands.

"You agreed to his plan. You gave him your support thus reinforcing his idea is good," Henry answered. He leaned forward in his seat, his dark eyes fixed on her face. "I know you want to support your brother in the best way possible because he's your only family left, but all this positive reinforcement is doing him more harm than good, Evie. You disagree with his methods, but rather than dissuade him, you agree."

She gave a defeated sigh. "It's the only way I can get through to him, Henry. He shut our father out for his lack of support; I won't be our father and turn my brother away. I won't lose him." It wasn't like Jacob would listen anyway, but at least if she gave him her support it kept him close.

"I understand. I'm sorry for suggesting there was a problem."

"You don't need to apologize. I know you mean well," she said, turning her head away to watch her brother again. He was now talking to Louis and Niall and laughing about something. The two Rooks gave him forced smiles. That was enough to know her brother had said something offensive at their expense, but the Rooks wouldn't dare challenge Jacob. A worrying thought surfaced in her mind. He had never been in a position to lead a group of men before. What if all this power was getting to her brother's head?

Henry frowned. "Evie."

She pulled herself out of her trance and forced a smile. "I should probably leave now before my brother goes without me." She stood up and prepared to head towards the door when Henry grabbed her arm. Surprised, she spun around, and gazed up at him, an eyebrow raised.

"Take care of yourself out there today," he said. "Templars and police will be out in force and I… I don't want the two of you to come to harm. Breaking into a prison cell won't be so easy this time around," he added softly, fingers releasing their grip on her arm.

Evie smiled again. "I'll return, I promise."

"You're leaving with me Rooks then. What am I supposed to do with them?"

"Why don't you take the remaining Rooks out for awhile? They tend to get a little restless if bored," she suggested.

"And where do you suggest I take them?"

"Someplace other than here. Paul needs a break." She turned her back before he could speak another word then headed towards the door where her brother waited for her. He was leaning against the door frame, an amused smirk on his face. "Think what you want, brother, but the relationship I share with Henry is strictly professional."

His smirk widened. "If that's what you want to believe…"

She gave him a gentle push out the door after silencing him with a glare. "Let's get moving. The Rooks aren't going to be able to win this fight on their own."

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"I don't know how you tolerate it," Tiny whispered. They were standing a few feet away from the Seven Bells entrance waiting for their 'boss' to leave. Charles was pacing back and forth on the lookout for a carriage whilst Abraham and Tiny stood beneath a street light. "We are serving a fool."

Abraham brought a finger to his lips calling for silence. "Keep your voice down. You don't want people to think you've lost faith in our leader," he said, jerking his head in Charles's direction. "That would be… troublesome, and I don't think I could help you."

Tiny crossed his arms over his chest. "This act of yours… it might work on him, but you're not fooling me. I know you think little of Jacob Frye, but why are you pretending to care about him? What have you got in mind, Abraham?"

"You misunderstood my intentions." Abraham turned around to look at the street. Light rain was falling, but the locals were not bothered. This was typical of the weather here. Just another day in grey London. People carried on with their usual daily activities without a care for the events happening around them. "Our time will come, Tiny. Have patience. Until then, I ask that you try and act less hostile towards our leader."

"You do have a plan."

Abraham drew in a deep breath and gave a dramatic sigh. "Yes, I have a plan. I always have a plan, Tiny. You should know that by now."

"Aren't you going to tell me?"

He turned around and met his friend's gaze. "No, I'm not. You've been my friend for a long time, but I can't share with you the plans of the future. Your hatred of Jacob Frye could ruin things for us both and I can't take that risk by telling you of the details. When the time is right, you will know, but for now, just shut up and play your role." The man growled, but that only prompted Abraham to chuckle.

"This isn't funny, you know. He's going to damn us all, and I don't want to go down with him."

"I didn't realize you could see into the future."

Again, Tiny growled. "It's only because of our long history together that I am staying at your side, but you are pushing the boundaries. He's toying with us. We're nothing but meat shields for him. How many times is he going to send us into battle? What are we gaining from this alliance?"

Abraham took a step towards his friend and poked a finger at his chest. "Shut your mouth or I will silence you myself," he hissed through clenched teeth. Tiny gave him a sour look, but did as was asked. It was perfect timing as well because Jacob and Evie had just exited the tavern followed by Louis and Niall. He smiled. "The carriages will be arriving soon, boss," Abraham commented. "I'm assuming you're going to be driving?"

Jacob smirked. "Correct. Charles will drive the other carriage."

"We can't afford to take that risk, Jacob," Evie said. "Do not underestimate the police and the Templars otherwise you'll find yourself back in a cell again." Abraham smiled at her too only to receive a frown in response. The sister was unfriendly. It was like she had a barrier up around her. The only time she seemed to lower it was when in the presence of Jacob or Henry. She made it obvious she didn't like the Rooks as much as her brother did. Perhaps it was for the best. It proved she was smart. "We're wasting time," Evie finally said.

"Look right. Carriages are approaching," Charles said, returning to the group.

Two carriages drew close, each one pulled by two white horses. Both drivers were female. The carriages came to a stop. The first carriage, the one driven by a blonde woman with brown eyes, spoke. "Where would you like to go?"

Jacob looked at Evie. "Where are we going?"

"Westminster."

Jacob turned back to the woman. "Well, you heard the lady. Take us to Westminster."

.

"What did you bring me out here for?" John complained.

Bloody Nora silenced him with a glare. "An Indian man. Where did you last him?"

"There are heaps of Indian immigrants in London! How do I know which one you're looking for?"

"He would've been wearing white garbs unlike anything you've seen before."

"I can't remember! I was knocked unconscious for most of the match!"

She narrowed her gaze. "Do you wish to see the sun rise tomorrow, John?" His face paled. The corners of her mouth curved upwards. It was always amusing to see how men reacted to threats. Sometimes she pretended to issue threats just to watch a reaction. It was a good way to past time.

"The Seven Bells, yes, that's right. It was the Seven Bells where I saw him. White colourful robes? A bit of blue and yellow, right?"

Ah, the Seven Bells. It was often hailed as the number one tavern in all of London. She had visited several times usually for information. People tended to talk much more when drunk. Interrogations were that much easier. The place had been built during the peak of the Brotherhood. It was supposed to serve as their headquarters for a time. Of course, when war had broken out, the Assassins had abandoned all claims they had and left. To think they were still using the place to hide out after all these years.

"I just don't see why he's so important."

Bloody Nora struck him in the jaw. He looked at her, jaw agape. "Do not question my motives. You are here to observe." She headed towards the door then stopped. "You are not coming in. You aren't required for the next phase. I need you to deliver a message to the other boroughs in London. Mercutio awaits you around the corner." She handed him an envelope with a red seal.

He took it then rubbed his cheek. "What's it about?"

"Templar business. Not for your ears. Now go. Do what you're paid to do."

Grumbling, John pocketed the note and left. He was an ungrateful and sour man, but surprisingly loyal. Once John had departed, Nora entered the Seven Bells. A strong scent of whiskey filled her nostrils. The place looked a bit different from the last time she had paid a visit. For starters, it was surprisingly empty. Normally at this time the place would be filled with people though she supposed the events of the past few weeks had turned people away.

However, there was evidence the place still retained a high customer visitation, judging by all the broken and empty bottles on the ground. There were even a couple of more chairs, and even a few pillows and folded sheets stacked up in a corner. "Can I help you?" A voice called out. She turned her head. There was a lone girl sitting on the counter, twisting a finger around a pigtail, whilst swinging her legs. She closed the distance between them.

Children. She didn't like children. They were noisy, bratty, and always had a knack of getting themselves into trouble. It was for that reason she wanted children working in the mills and factories – it would keep them busy and out of her business. She forced a smile. Children were simple beings, her men said. Reward or flatter them and information would be shared in exchange. "I'm looking for some information."

The girl stopped moving her legs. "What kind?"

"I'm looking for someone. A friend of mine whom I haven't seen in years. Dark, tall handsome man."

"Oh, I've seen a few people like that come by," the girl said.

"Might you have gotten a name, dear child?"

The girl grinned. "Do you have coins?"

Bloody Nora continued her act. She knew there had been a reason why she didn't want any children of her own. Bloody simple things they were. "Where is your father? Can I speak with him?"

The girl hopped off the counter. "Why?"

That was something else she despised about the little brats. They never stopped asking questions. She held back a frustrated sigh. When she returned to check up on the factories, she was going to have the children flogged. "Clara, what's going on?" Nora turned her head. A man had entered the room. There were black bags beneath his eyes. He seemed exhausted, as if overworked. He looked as though he hadn't slept in a week.

Clara shrugged. "She wants to talk with you about something."

"Just head on upstairs, Clara."

"All right."

He bent down and kissed the girl on the forehead then straightened. Clara ran through the back door and hurried upstairs. "I hope she didn't give you any trouble."

"None at all," she said coolly. "You're the bartender here, aren't you? I hear there's been a lot of trouble at this bar of the late."

The man shrugged and started wiping down the counter's surface with a white linen cloth. "Isn't there always? Just a couple of rowdy drunks. Nothing to be concerned about."

"You look tired," she said. "It must be stressful running a bar."

He stopped cleaning. "What is it that you want, Nora?"

So the man did recognize her after all. How surprising. "I'm surprised you even recognized me. What has it been, four weeks since I last dropped by? You could've sent me an invitation."

He sighed. "I knew your name the moment I heard your voice. Your Templars have caused me a lot of problems in the past few weeks. I thought we had a deal – I meet the rent payments per month, and your Templars leave my customers alone."

"You've been secrets from me. I know you've been in close contact with Assassins," she said curtly, watching his eyes, searching for dishonesty.

He resumed cleaning again. "I don't know what you are talking about."

She placed a hand on his hand prompting him to stop once more. "A decade ago this place served as a base for the Assassins of the British Brotherhood. I'm not surprised they'd be using this place again. It's in the city's central."

"What makes you think I'm looking after Assassins?"

"Murders at night. Chaos on the streets. Brawls in bars. Particularly this one. All these problems started occurring a couple of weeks ago." She squeezed her hand. He flinched. "An Indian immigrant was spotted here around the same time these problems started… Convenient, yes?"

He pulled his hand free. "I fail to see the point of your argument. We open our doors to anyone here. We don't discriminate."

Bloody Nora gave him one of her rare smiles. "Don't forget, I control the law here. I can change the laws tonight and have you arrested for harbouring criminals under your roof. Imagine that – you'll lose everything." She pulled away from the bench, pushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "My men and the police have seen your Assassins, and so has the public. I can ruin your life with just one order."

"You can't change the law without a vote."

"The wealthy will vote to support me."

He narrowed his eyes. "If you are so convinced then why haven't you made a move yet?"

"I was waiting for the right moment to act. Templars do not start wars." Her smile widened. "Your Assassins have made their intentions clear – they will start a war and it will end in blood. History has a funny way of repeating itself. Now I intend to protect my property and my people. I could protect you granted the conditions are met. All the money you earn on a monthly basis will be yours to keep. You could be a rich man."

He looked thoughtful. "And what do you want in return?"

"Your loyalty. Convince your Assassins to head towards Whitechapel this Saturday morning as soon as the sun rises. I wish to make a deal – a treaty. History doesn't have to repeat this time. Convince them to come and you'll never have to pay a fee again. Just imagine the life you and your daughter could live – you only want the best of your daughter, am I correct?"

"Fine. We have a deal."

She chuckled. "I knew I could count on you. Goodbye, Paul."

.

Needless to say, Westminster was truly a miserable place to be. The place was swarming with pompous fools all dressed up as if they were attending the opera tonight. It was a very different crowd from what he was accustomed to and he didn't like it one bit. He was pleased to know the other Rooks felt out of place as well. Only Evie expressed no signs of discomfort. The only positive was that the weather was fine for a change.

Unlike the slums, Westminster was neat and organized. There were no signs of rubbish on the ground, the grass and bushes were trimmed evenly, and the houses themselves were made of better wood. It was like stepping into a different world. Templar supporters no doubt. All the people here would love to see him and his kind behind bars.

"We want to head down this street then take the fourth turn on the right," Evie said, pointing to a wide street just up ahead. There were trees on both sides of the cobblestone road spaced out evenly. In between the trees were black street lights. "We'll find Mark Thompson and his gang of Blighters there. I'll be on the roof keeping an eye out for any threats above. Make it quick – we don't have a lot of time to spare."

"Understood, Evie. Rooks, with me!" Jacob ordered, ushering the Rooks to come closer. Evie took her leave and headed towards the buildings ahead. "We're going to charge in without hesitation. I'll give an extra pouch of coins for the lad who beats up the most people." Louis's and Niall's eyes lit up at the thought of more coin. "Let's move." He started leading the way up the street, ignoring the posh people walking by.

Fortunately, it didn't take long to reach the correct street. The street was deserted strangely enough. It was almost as if the Blighters were expecting them and were lying in ambush. But no, that wasn't their style. Templars didn't hide. "Over there, boss," Charles said, raising an arm, his finger pointing straight ahead.

Jacob looked. There was brown picket fence with an opening in the centre. It was as if someone had forgotten to build a gate. Odd. The placing of the base was strange too. The street itself was fancy, but the Templar base was just some dirty stronghold hiding in amongst the rich and wealthy. A good disguise. Behind the fence he spotted a few Templars pacing back and forth. By the looks of it, each man was unarmed. "Right. There they are." Jacob looked up briefly, scanning the rooftops for his sister. He spotted her crouched behind a chimney on the opposite side. Perfect. "Have at them, lads! Show them no mercy!" he ordered, directing the Rooks forth.

The Rooks rushed forward, charging into the fray. The Templars were quick to respond – they hurried towards the attackers and immediately started throwing punches. Fortunately, the training session he had given the Rooks earlier in the week had proven to be of some use. Louis dodged a blow then countered, kicking a leg out at a Templar's right shin bone. Niall tackled the Templar from behind and punched him on the right side of his jaw.

Jacob remained in place for a few moments watching the chaos unfurl. The Rooks were handling themselves fine despite being less experienced and outnumbered by more than two to one. They were more hungry for a victory than the Templars were. That's what gave them the edge. Jacob waited for a little longer before joining in the fight himself.

He sauntered over towards one of the Templar thugs, pushed him from behind until he toppled over then followed up with a swift knee to the stomach. Another Templar charged at him. Jacob stepped to the side, stuck out a leg and watched as the foolish man tripped over, landing face-first in the muddy dirt. Two more Templars came at him. He waited for them to come close then rolled out of the way, allowing for the two men to crash skulls together. Both Templars staggered backwards, groaning. Now where was Mark Thompson? He was the one who mattered the most.

"They told me you would be coming, but I didn't realize you'd be here so soon," a voice drawled. Jacob turned to the face the source of the sound. A man with shoulder length black hair approached him, a feral look in his eyes. His arms were covered in strange black markings. A strange look for someone who lived in the supposed wealthiest district of London. "I have to say, it's pretty impressive that you've come here today so soon after the tragic events that took place at the Steelworks Factory."

"I couldn't contain my excitement," Jacob replied. "I heard stories about a man called Mark Thompson and couldn't wait to finally meet with him face to face."

"Likewise. You're the one who has given Bloody Nora much grief over the past couple of months. You did a nice job there escaping from the prison, but your luck has run out." Mark raised a hand then clicked his fingers. "You may come out now!" Men from all four corners moved towards the centre of the fighting arena, blocking off all possible escape routes. Some he recognized as the police officers who had caught him, but there was no sign of Isaac.

"Is this all you have?" Jacob taunted. "I was expecting something more… impressive."

"You talk tough, Frye, but I wonder if it's all just an act? Beneath all that swagger… what else is there?" He raised his hands up in the air. "These men aren't here to fight you – they're here to watch me beat you down and arrest you so you can pay for your crimes against the public and our Order."

"So why not arrest me now?"

Mark threw his head back and laughed. "Well, that wouldn't be much fun now would it? I like to have an audience when I humiliate people. So, come on, give me your best shot. Show me what your daddy taught you, Assassin," he jeered.

For that remark, he was going to die a slow and painful death. Jacob moved forward, fingers curled into fists. He had left the brass knuckles at home today figuring he'd give his hands a day's rest. Wearing them for too long hurt. "You're going to regret that." He lunged. Mark blocked the punch. Jacob drew back, spun around and grabbed his arm.

Spit flew in his eyes. It was so unexpected that he released his grip on Mark's arm, allowing for the man to regain his composure. The man lunged forward, fists flying. Jacob evaded the blow then charged forward, countering with a fist of his own. Knuckles met with flesh. He was rewarded with a satisfied hiss of pain.

Mark stumbled back then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He was smiling. "Not too shabby then. I think I'm starting to see why the Templars are becoming worried of you. You've built yourself quite the reputation, Jacob Frye… but I wonder how long your reign will last. You haven't the temperament to last longer than a year." He bent down, picked up handfuls of dirt, and hurled them at him.

Grains of dirt stung his eyes and clung to his coat. Temporarily blinded, he left himself vulnerable to an attack. He found himself pushed backwards. Sharp pain exploded in his stomach as a fist made contact. Now he was pissed. Play time was over. With a growl, he lunged, grabbing the man's collar with both his hands. He brought his head forward, slamming his skull into Mark's own. Still, he held onto the collar, refusing to release. He punched him. He punched the Templar a second time. Blood spilled out the side of the man's mouth.

Mark spat at the ground. Flecks of blood covered his shoes. "They say you're an animal, Frye." He brought a hand to his mouth and used a finger to wipe the blood of his lower lip. He then ran his tongue across it, the tip lapping at the blood. "I think you knocked out one of my teeth… Guess I'm starting to see the infamous beast the Templars and police refer to." He spat once more. There in the small pool of blood was a single white tooth.

"I'll be more than happy to knock out a few other things."

The man grinned. "That's what I like to hear. You dress it all up behind a fancy coat, but deep down you are a criminal. A wild vicious animal possessed by the Devil himself. It's a nice disguise, Assassin, but you're not fooling me. You see, I know your type. I was the one who chased filth like you out of this district."

"You don't know anything about me and you never will." He took a step forward. Mark took one back. "You'll never get that chance because your miserable life ends here today." Before Mark could speak another word, Jacob lunged forward and tackled the man to the ground. He activated his hidden blade and pressed the edge against the man's neck.

Mark was still smiling. That annoyed him. Why was he so happy? He had lost. "Go ahead then, Frye. Do what needs to be done. Kill me in front of this people – I hear you like an audience. You know you want to drive that blade of yours through my skin, but my death won't change anything. The world will carry on and continue to change without me." His smirk widened. "It was what God intended, so bring me to closer to Him, Assassin. You will see His face before you're sent to the pit below where hellfire will envelop your soul for eternity."

"With pleasure," he replied. He pulled the blade back then plunged it right through the man's heart. He watched as the light in the man's eyes dimmed as his life poured out of the blade wound in his chest. Withdrawing his bloodied blade, he climbed to his feet and looked around. The followers all looked stunned and ready to flee. Even his own Rooks were surprised. In the distance, he caught Evie strolling towards them. Her expression was unreadable.

"…I can't believe he's dead…"

"…What now?"

Jacob walked over to a couple of stray crates lying on the ground. He pulled them together and stacked them so he could climb on top and elevate himself to a higher level. Catching his sister's eye, he motioned for her to join him at his side. He held out his hidden blade and addressed the stunned onlookers. "Our names are Jacob and Evie Frye. As of this moment, you all work for us."

"Jacob," Evie started, looking at him with furrowed brows. "What are you-"

He ignored her. "I expect you all to be there at the Seven Bells tonight. Return to your homes, pack up your belongings and make the move. You're one of us now. A Rook. The lives you led before are no longer relevant. This is a new start for you. Don't mess it up." He climbed down from the crates and prepared to return to where exact spot the carriages had dropped them off at. Bit by bit, his empire was growing.

.

The Rooks headed towards the tables in the dining area whilst Evie followed her brother into the kitchen. Fortunately, it was deserted. Paul was out the front busy with making drinks and Clara was probably chatting to the other children. Henry was going to follow her, but stopped when she shook her head. This was time alone with her brother. Henry retreated to the dining hall.

Evie closed the kitchen door behind her to ensure there was more privacy. It also helped lessen the volume of the chatter happening outside in the main area. Jacob walked over to a chair, placing both hands on the spindle, eyes focused on the table. "What was that?" Evie said, standing across from him.

"A man who deserved to die," he said slowly in a low dangerous tone.

"The Templar death I have no problems with, but these Rooks are free men. They are not tools of war. You made it sound like you had given them a choice when in reality, you did not."

He lifted his gaze. "Is that why you've followed me in here? To scorn me?"

"I want to know why. You want to lead these people? You have to earn their trust, and forcing them to work for you isn't helping." She moved in closer. "I agreed to allow you to recruit people, but I didn't agree to this. Have you forgotten why we started this in the first place?"

"Of course I haven't forgotten," he replied heatedly. "It was my idea to recruit people to our cause. Besides, you can't judge me for my actions today – you've done nothing to boost our influence here! You just… disappear without warning like you did the other day!"

"I don't have to explain myself to you."

"You don't even care about the Rooks so why do you care what happens to them?" he added, tone rising in volume.

"I care because I don't want to see you hurt," Evie said, maintaining a steady tone. Her brother was already beginning to unravel. She could see it in his body and verbal language. "I may not care about the Rooks as much as you, but I know how much their support means to you. I'm willing to accept them as part of our extended family for you."

"You worry too much. I have nothing to fear." He threw his hands up in the air. "We're so close, Evie. Just two more days and we'll have London within our grasp. Just think – this entire city will be under our control. People will answer to us."

"That is not the way of the Creed."

He slammed a fist on the table. His brown eyes were alight with blazing fury. "Fuck the Creed!"

There it was. The trigger behind the source of his anger. "We came here to help people; not rule over them."

"And we're still saving people, but they need a leader," Jacob retorted. "Someone who can show them the correct path."

"You believe that person is you?"

His bottom lip curled. "You don't think I'm capable of it… After all these months you still doubt me? Haven't I proved that I'm capable of handling this?"

That was true. Despite his questionable methods, he had managed to get the job done though it had come at a high cost of blood. His methods had brought them unwanted attention from the public – too many Templars had died in dramatic ways in such a short period of time. Robert Strain murdered on a moving train. Jacob almost murdering a Templar in plain sight at a tavern. Jacob leading his Rooks to purge a factory causing a big scene. Not to mention all his little side activities.

"Yes," she said softly. "You've done the job."

"But you're not satisfied. Is it because you're not the one making all the kills?"

She frowned. What was becoming of her brother? "I'm more than capable of making them myself, brother, but I have let you take the spot light. I don't have anything to prove." Unlike Jacob. She suspected his need to prove himself came from Ethan Frye rejecting him in favour of Evie. It would explain all the dramatic actions he had taken to ensure the oppression ended. He craved attention. The attention he felt he never received as a child. Childhood scars had run deeper than she had originally assumed.

"You look at me with disappointment at my methods, but I will never change how I live my life. I've proven that you don't need a Creed to achieve greatness. Serving something else only weakens you – I serve myself and that's all I need. Everyone who stands in my path will suffer like the Templars have… Which path will you walk on, sister?"

"The one in which there's less blood."

He narrowed his eyes, hands gripping the head of the chair's spindle. "No Rook will die under my rule."

"You can't guarantee that," she replied. "We can't control what is to come."

Perhaps this was a mistake, but he was making it increasingly difficult to support him wholeheartedly. The bruises on his skin hadn't gone unnoticed by her. Obviously, he had gotten himself in another fight yesterday. It was almost as if he was purposefully seeking trouble to prove himself capable of being a fine and strong leader. How had things managed to change so much?

They had started this adventure as a team yet she couldn't help but feel they were beginning to drift away from each other. Leadership and success had corrupted her brother's mind, and the worst part of it was that she had allowed it to happen in hope that it would somehow draw him closer to realizing the ways of the Creed were not to be scorned. The brother with the golden heart was in there somewhere.

He picked up the chair and threw it at the ground. Not much took her by surprise, but she jumped, startled by the abruptness. "Everything is under my control!" he bellowed. He glared at her for a few moments, taking in deep mouthfuls of air, then brought a hand to his forehead and winced. "Fuck. I'm sorry, Evie. I didn't mean-"

She pulled the chair back up. "It's fine. It's been a long day."

"I'm just trying to make something good happen out of all of this."

She nodded. "I understand. I'm not judging you." His temper tantrum had passed now. He was back to being her younger twin again, the one who only wanted to bring justice to the suffering, but how many times would this cycle repeat until he reached a point of no return? "Get some rest."

"But I promised the lads we'd have a drinking contest tonight."

"Again?"

"Round two. Best of three."

She sighed. "All right, but don't stay up for too long. We need to work on developing a plan to combat any threat the Templars throw at us."

He nodded, but didn't speak another word. She watched him walk to the door and leave the kitchen area. Most likely he was going to end up being the first on the floor again. Drawing in a deep breath, Evie headed up towards her room. Soon, the fate of the future would be determined.