CHAPTER 1

Eva had been rejected by him years ago when she met him in a fight against the Paladins when she was only sixteen years of age. All she knew about him was that he was an amazing fighter who had saved her life. After the particularly gruesome fight, the Paladins ended up unconscious or badly beaten with what appeared to be several broken bones judging by the oddly bent joints. Those were the lucky ones. Many had ended up dead. Griffin had single-handedly seen to that. She had begged him to teach her how to defend herself before she wound up dead; pleaded that he should teach her. He had sized her up and flat out refused.

"Wait!" Eva cried as her saviour in the leather jacket turned to walk away, "What's your name?"

"Griffin," he called over his shoulder, adding, "And I don't want you to hear you using it."

"But you can show me how to stand up and fight! The more Paladins I hurt would be less for you to worry about!" Eva protested weakly.

"You're too young, too scrawny and you'll only end up dead faster by trying to fight instead of running away. You wouldn't be able to kill someone anyways. Do yourself a favour and go home," Griffin said in his heavy English accent while walking away. Eva ran after him.

"I don't have a home to go to!" she cried, feeling the familiar prickling of oncoming tears. Her parents had been killed when they had tried to protect her. All of her closest friends had succumbed to the same fate. She hated this curse with a passion. Jumping had lost its appeal when she realized everybody she loved and cared for had died shortly after she discovered her gift. Griffin kept walking.

"Why can't I come with you?" she tried again.

"Why do you keep following me?" Griffin growled and sped up, "I told you to go away!"

"I have nowhere to go," Eva said quietly, tears starting to fall from her eyes. She felt despair and hopelessness coming.

Griffin paused and turned around. Hope suddenly filled Eva's chest and she clung to it like a life preserver.

"You'll only slow me down and get in the way. I'm busy and I don't have time for you," the fighter told her coldly.

"But you saved my life! Can't I repay the favour?"

"You can't save me, sweetheart," he gave a derisive laugh and Jumped away. Eva seemed to deflate. She crumpled to the sidewalk and the flood of tears flowed freely.

That had been years ago but the despair she had felt quickly turned into a fierce fire of hatred. She hated him from that day on. The way he had dismissed her and left her to fend for herself was pretty much a death sentence. She despised herself as she thought back on that night, yet she smiled – albeit a cold one – and remembered how weak she had been to cry. She hadn't cried since that night eight years ago. She was twenty four years old now and stronger, both emotionally and physically, than she had ever been in her life. She had found other, kinder Jumpers who had taught her self-defence and how to fight. For eight long years she had sought out others like her who taught her all they could. Once she had learnt and mastered what they knew, she moved on to gain more experience from any source she could. But mainly, she had been looking for another Jumper. A Jumper by the name of Griffin.

She had become a whole new person. Eva no longer existed. From her ashes had risen Victoire: a tough-as-nails warrior who had learnt to injure and kill Paladins; a skilled woman who had decidedly long ago forgotten her feelings of compassion and love and replaced them with coldness and hate.

Griffin had been watching the Paladins as he always did; tracking, following, and killing. He was interested in their tactics and their movements. He considered it his duty to exterminate these murderers just as they considered it their duty to kill Jumpers.

He sat at his paper-covered work space in his lair, putting together the most recent information on the whereabouts of Roland when he came across a name: Victoire. She didn't have a last name. He didn't recognize it but as he sifted through more and more information, the name came up more and more often in association with Paladin deaths. The coroner's reports he had gained by hacking described gruesome deaths; often with signs of torture. Griffin decided to take a break from Roland and look up this Victoire. He discovered that she was the second most hunted Jumper after himself which surprised him considering she had only surfaced relatively recently. Despite having been on the radar for only eight years, she had already racked up hundreds of Paladin deaths. Griffin was deeply impressed and wondered how he had not yet heard of her. Her name seemed oddly fitting: Victoire meant victory in French.

He came across a picture of Victoire that must have been taken while she was being held captive in an unknown location (the picture resembled a mug shot and he had no idea how she could have escaped from a Paladin cell). He couldn't deny that she was attractive and thought that that might act as a tactical advantage in luring Paladins to their unsuspecting deaths as most of them were men. Griffin knew that her full lips, high cheekbones and long black hair could definitely drive a man to distraction. Though her features were striking, it was her dark eyes that captivated him. They were eerily cold and devoid of any emotion. Her eyes seemed to burn into his even through the picture. Her gaze was one full of revenge and desired retribution. She seemed vaguely familiar but it could have been that her eyes mirrored the look in his own.

Had this Victoire character been through everything he had? If she was such a ruthless killer and if she often came into contact with the Paladins, it was a reasonable assumption that she might have some information on Roland. He decided that if they ever crossed paths, he just might stop and have a chat with her about the Paladin.

Victoire was walking down an alley, looking for a fight. She'd had a particularly hard day: she had ripped her favourite leather jacket on a barbed-wire fence (a style she borrowed from her brief encounter with Griffin) and had had to go steal another with the store owner almost catching her. The new jacket felt stiff and uncomfortable and she knew it would take a while to break it in. To add to this loss, her hide-out had been discovered by Paladins. She had been sleeping in a "borrowed" apartment ("house-sitting" as she called it) when the door had been blown off and a dozen Paladins had streamed in. She had been able to take down about eight of them, killing at least four for sure, snapping their neck in the easiest, cleanest way, before Jumping away to Burma, Vancouver, Venice and winding up in the South of England in an attempt to elude them. It had worked and she waited until dark to do her hunting. She regretted not having the time to have some fun with the Paladins before killing them. It was always more fun when they begged for death.

In the alley, she walked slowly, deliberately, trying to attract the notice of any Paladins that might be lurking, Jumping more than was necessary. Luring them in was just too easy. They always arrived thinking that fighting a woman would be a piece of cake not knowing that she was one of the most dangerous Jumpers still alive.

She turned into a still darker alley and heard the sounds of a scuffle. Even if there were no Paladins involved she could at least join in this skirmish just to punch something. She quickened her pace and arrived at the scene of a fight. There was no doubt that this was Paladins versus Jumpers. Correction, there seemed to be only one Jumper terribly outnumbered by Paladins. She moved to a jog to join the fray, dodging, ducking and weaving away from the electric devices the Paladins loved so much. She aimed several well-placed roundhouse kicks to one of the enemy and knocked him out cold before chancing a glance at the other Jumper. Victoire was happy that he seemed to have no qualms about harming the Paladins either. Weak Jumpers disgusted her; sympathy in a Jumper led to an early grave. Victoire noticed that despite his short stature he was extremely fast and deadly. Once the Paladins were all lying around unconscious or dead, the man turned to look at Victoire.

As their gaze met, they recognized each other at once. Griffin grinned, pleased to have finally met the girl from the picture while Victoire's cold eyes looked back, clearly displeased. Griffin's grin never faltered at her unwavering stare.

"Great fighting there," he stated. The compliment felt foreign to his ears but he figured that a semblance of civility would get him off to a good start. Victoire said nothing but intensified her piercing stare.

"I'm Griffin," he continued, "You're Victoire, aren't you?" She simply nodded stiffly. A long, uncomfortable silence ensued. Victoire busied herself by unceremoniously ending the lives of the unconscious Paladins. She nudged the body of one and he groaned. Victoire rapidly turned the body into a corpse by crushing his windpipe with her boot.

"So, I had been hoping to run into you..." he trailed off annoyed, clearly bothered by her lack of response. He didn't like being ignored.

"You don't recognize me, do you?" she finally looked up at him, speaking in a cold and clear voice.

"Of course I do, you're the second most wanted Jumper in the world," he responded with something close to respect, "Second only to me," he added cockily.

"No. I met you years ago. Do you remember turning down a sixteen year old girl's need for help? She needed somebody to teach her to fight and you refused her. It was only a chance encounter with another Jumper that saved her life." Still, no glint of recognition showed in Griffin's eyes.

"I think I would have remembered you," he smirked. Victoire wasn't completely devoid of primal emotions and noticed that he was indeed more attractive than she remembered and this bothered her considerably. She was supposed to hate him and want him dead; finding him visually appealing angered her to no end.

Before her resolve wavered, she walked closer in a seductive manner as Griffin's smirk spread wider. When she got within arm's reach, she pulled back her right fist and served him a right hook. He staggered back, grabbing his jaw.

"What the bloody hell was that for?!" he shouted.

"You deserted me in my time of need! And now I'm strong enough to kick your ass," she spoke dangerously. Faster than lightning she moved in and kicked him in the stomach. She heard the wind leave his lungs as he doubled over. She edged nearer.

Without warning, he struck back with a quick succession of punches that narrowly missed her face. However, his Jumping combined with his attack was something Victoire had not encountered before and the following onslaught of kicks and punches caught her off guard as many hit their mark. She growled in pain and anger as she began Jumping as well. Both trying to gain the upper hand over the other was not working as punches flew in every direction and their bodies turned to blurs from the speed with which they fought. After several minutes, Griffin had pinned Victoire to the ground, his knee on her stomach and her arms stuck behind her. They were both panting but Griffin had an incredibly smug smile on his face that irked Victoire to no end.

"I still don't remember you, sweetheart," he said, "But I'm glad I know you now."

"You don't know a thing about me," Victoire hissed. She struggled to get free but her movements were terribly restricted and bore little results. Her temper flared again and she managed to free one arm and swing it in an uppercut as Griffin's head whipped back. She used this to free herself from his grip and Jumped a good distance away.

"I despise you," she stated.

"That's funny, 'cause I like you," he shrugged casually, "And I don't like many people. You should feel honoured."

Victoire narrowed her eyes in a vicious glare.

"We'd make a good team, you and I," he continued. She turned to walk away when she heard him call: "Hey. Hey! Have you ever read Marvel Team-Up?" just before she Jumped away.