Jasaiah gave Ryan a small, reassuring smile. "That will do," he murmured. That would do indeed. He wouldn't let Ryan come to harm regardless. Once the car was parked, Jasaiah parted ways with him for just a little while (about twenty minutes), to dress into something to more easily move around. Things he'd brought with him from Seattle to track Drake down. A vial, a small bag, and a battle kimono that freed up movement. A katana was sheathed at his waist, his hair piled high on top of his head with the charm around his neck. He returned, and he drank the contents of the vial. It opened his senses and he then added a drop of blood to the contents of the pouch. Drake and he had formed a bond, both in body and through blood. These things weren't needed, but they made it easier to find Drake, to pinpoint his location as opposed to getting to the general area.<br/><br/>He wouldn't underestimate Drake again, and he had all his mental barriers in mind. When they reached the house, he had to swallow his rage. It wouldn't do to kill the good doctor just yet. He needed answers. He needed a way to help Drake beyond sitting on the sidelines while the man he loved fought for control over his mind. When he saw the doctor, he touched Ryan's arm. "It may be a trap," he murmured. Though he didn't bother to whisper. He didn't see Drake yet, but given that he was a vampire now, it was highly likely that Drake would hear everything that they spoke. "Wait here, please." Though being in an enclosed space meant that Ryan couldn't fly away, but he had to believe that Ryan would defend himself against Drake and not let his belief that he wouldn't harm him interfere with the mission at hand. "Stay alert, barrier yourself if you must."<br/><br/>Though Drake had to feel something for Jasaiah, to not have hurt him in the hotel room. It was his own fault that he let his mind be vulnerable in the face of Drake's multiple personalities, and it wouldn't be a mistake he made again. Jasaiah knelt down by the doctor, startled slightly that he was so old in appearance. He figured for a man of his conviction, with everything he must have done to others, he would have figured out a way to stop aging himself. But then, it could be a spell for all he knew. Someone inhuman that had taken pleasure in breaking and conditioning others while at the same time molding their bodies into masterful weapons. "Dr. Longsworth?" he asked softly. Perhaps it wasn't even the good doctor. A butler, perhaps? He examined the man for any obvious wounds, while reaching out with his senses for where Drake was located.<br/><br/>His guard was on high, and he wouldn't be caught unawares. His hand rested on the sheath of his sword, while the other helped the man to sit up.