What if Griffin did know what David was going through? What if he made a sacrifice no one was supposed to know about?
It was raining the night he walked into the small bar just outside of Miami. Night had long ago fallen and the wind was beginning to pick up by the time he closed the door and began to scan the inhabitants.
She was sitting at the bar, back to him and the rest of the world. She had dirty-blonde hair that flowed down her back, ending just below the waist of her ripped and faded jeans. Black stilettos hooked over the rung of the bar stool as she sat, hands holding her face, staring into her drink.
Walking slowly through the mismatched collection of souls, he made his way to the stool beside the blonde.
She never looked up, steel eyes never leaving the ripples she created from chewing on her straw. He watched her out of the corner of his eye. Pale skin over round, yet sharp features. Slender neck ending in a splash of chest, diving into a v-cut red top.
He'd never meant to start anything. She'd never meant to let it mean anything more than a free drink.
Then he was walking her home. Down the hallway to her apartment door. Watching her fumble for keys.
"I don't give it up on the first date." She had whispered in his ear. For some reason, he'd never expected her to.
So, he kissed her instead.
Slow, sweet, and full of the promise that maybe this could work. Then he walked away, leaving her trying to remember how to work a doorknob.
The next time they met, it was the same as before. Same bar. Same stools. Same small talk.
Same walk home. Same jingling of keys lost in a purse.
The same press of lips upon one another.
The same hope.
The third date went farther. He made it into the apartment. Seeing its slight mess and meticulously decorated rooms.
Ancient Egypt
Greece
China
Japan
Paris
One room for every destination she hoped to see before she died.
He knew this because she told him.
"They're all dreams. Every place stands for something my subconscious wants. Otherwise, why would I see them in my dreams? All I want is to be able to have memories when I die. And no regrets. Never any regrets."
He just nodded and thought maybe one day he'd take her to all the places she dreamed of. Then he'd said goodnight and kissed her on the way out the door.
Things moved faster. Sometimes bumpier.
He couldn't keep dates because of the prey he had to find. Broke promises and forgot special things like her birthday. And she couldn't understand, because he couldn't tell her.
But there were moments when they couldn't be happier. Curled up on a couch watching a movie. Sipping coffee at a remote café, telling dreams.
She wanted to live, not just survive. She wanted to have children and raise them in happiness. She wanted to grow old and die quietly. Or die young and brilliantly. She hadn't decided. But, she wanted to find true love before either of the two latter were to occur.
He couldn't tell her whole truths, so he mixed and matched. He wanted to find his real parents, he was adopted (avenge his family). He wanted to quit his job (finally kill all of the Paladin). Most of all, he wanted to be free.
The last one was the truth.
They were happiest when they danced. She had to teach him of course. Salsa. Tango. Steamy and sensual. The same as her kisses.
She hadn't given it up on the second date or the third or the fourth. They'd yet to ever take anything that far. And Griffin liked that. Every other girl he'd met in a bar had been slurred words, sloppy kisses, and clothes that slid off far too easily. This one was different.
Maybe, just maybe, she'd understand. If he ever had the nerve to tell her.
And yet, he didn't know why he kept going back. It only brought her that much closer to a war so ancient and vicious, the beginning running red with blood still streaking into lives today. Could he put her in that kind of danger?
So he tried to break it off.
Starting at silent tears and confused stares. To screaming questions that demanded to be answered. Why? What had she done wrong? Where could his sorry ass do any better? Why wasn't she good enough?
It was in those eyes so full of rejection and anger and tears that he found the need to answer her. To let her know it wasn't her fault. That it was something far darker.
She reacted well when he suddenly appeared right in front of her after he'd been standing at her door only moments before.
She didn't scream. However, that could be because his lips were securely keeping her mouth occupied.
She didn't scream when they parted. Just a solid smack across the face. How could he keep this from her?
Secrets were forgotten and the whole story was shared. And he told her what they could have now. He could giver her all her dreams.
Ancient Egypt
Greece
China
Japan
Paris
And so the trips began. Every location she had ever mentioned, he took her. She would just kiss him and say, "I guess this makes up for all the dates you're going to be missing, doesn't it?"
Still, now she had more of a load on her shoulders. She worried every time he went out. What if this was the one time he didn't come back? What if she didn't see him again? Who would tell her? Who would mourn with her? Who else would even care?
The first time he appeared beaten, bloody, and limping, she almost lost it. She cleaned him up and helped him to the bed. Then she'd smacked him across the face again and begged him to stop. Sobbed her pleas to just vanish and live quietly somewhere.
But she knew it would never happen. They were both in too deep for the chance of a future. So, that night, she gave in. She wanted him. All of him. In case he didn't come back next time. She wanted no regrets.
So, she kissed his lips, his bruises, his scars. She kissed her way down his neck, his chest, and his stomach. And kissed his lips once again after he asked her if she was sure.
The next morning they woke up, each sore in their own right, but each more content than they could ever remember.
And life went on. Battles, birthdays, vacations, and nights where the Paladin didn't exist.
Then one night he stumbled into the bedroom out of thin air and told her they had to go. There was no time for answers. Only time for her to throw the contents of random drawers into a suitcase and jump into his arms.
They'd found out about her. About them.
She saw more of the world, but every location was full of fear and anticipation. They'd be found. It was only a matter of time. Each hidden bunker was only a number of days till they had to move on.
It was on the streets of Rome that they felt it. There were eyes piercing their backs and strangers that turned the same corners.
Griffin jumped them to their latest home once they were inside a bathroom stall. That was when he learned about the device that opened his jump scars.
The man with white hair and brown skin jumped through the portal first. She'd barely screamed out the warning when they were inside a car showcase window. Each jumped over the doors of the sports car. Her seatbelt was scarcely buckled when the glass shattered allowing them onto the streets.
And they were off again.
But sleek, black cars wouldn't let them escape. Guns spraying bullets from opened windows couldn't allow freedom. There was nothing she could do but grip his hand tighter.
What could he do? Could he really transport the entire vehicle? What if he couldn't? What if he tore her apart? What other choice did he have?
So, he tried.
The air was thicker and pulling in every direction. This was taking longer than he'd thought. Then he heard the ripping of steel. Felt the tug at his hand. The front of the car was coming, along with his seat, but he hadn't managed to get the entire car. It was pulling her with it. Hair swirling around her face, through a distorted whirl he could see the end of the car rolling. She was half in his world and half in hers. Dangling by her hand.
I love you.
She mouthed the words as she lost her grip. She was moving so slowly. Falling backwards and into the wreckage. Then the portal was closed.
His section of the car landed deftly in the snows of the Canadian wilderness. He had to get back.
No hesitation, he appeared on the Roman roadway. Paladin at the ready. Broken body at his feet.
So, forgive him for snapping when David preached of love and keeping his precious sweetheart around. Griffin knew what would happen.
He knew because he saw it every time he closed his eyes.
Steel eyes and young, brilliant deaths. Mouthed I love you's, and broken bodies.