"I'm ready..."

Nightfall was approaching quickly, and with the night came the fight. The fight of her life, she's been told by many. People from various groups, even some loners, would walk by Hope's corner a little too close. A little too slow. Maybe they were trying to see her face before it would evidently be rearranged by Flynn. Fortunately, Dominik must have known how others treat newcomers, let alone newcomers injected into the ring after just arriving.

"Nervous?" Dom asked, breaking Hope's focus, making her look him in the eyes. It was something she didn't like to do.

Dominik was too observant; he saw too much of her that she didn't want on display. She'd been a closed book for almost everyone else on the planet, leaving most guessing her intentions and thoughts. He'd been right when he'd said she was a hard nut to crack, but she had a feeling he was used to breaking the toughest-most resilient members of this wannabe circus.

She pursed her lips into a thin line and slightly rolled her shoulders. "If I wasn't, I think something would be wrong with me."

"A healthy dose of fear is good," he nodded in agreement, "I think a lot of the veterans in here forget that..." he glanced around now, ensuring no prying ears could hear what he said next, "They underestimate you. Use their ignorance to your advantage. I don't know what you're capable of, but the way they're acting, they think this will be an easy win for them. Put Flynn higher on the scoreboard."

Hope thought for a moment and looked past Dom's shoulder, watching Flynn and his crew laughing and pushing each other around. Not a care in the world. She kept her eyes trained on Flynn, Elijah's words returning to her. Their weakness does not impact yours; exploit it.

"What are his usual strategies in the ring?" she asked, watching as he laid down on his cot, probably to take a nap before the fight. Something she should do but knew it would be impossible with the way her mind was winded at present. She needed strategy, and she couldn't get that from sleeping.

Hope could sleep when she was either back here in her corner or dead in the ring.

Dom didn't look his way, obviously not wanting to draw unwanted attention. "He fakes out. Grabs the most menacing weapon in the ring and makes a big show. Tries to get the opponent shaking in their shorts before the fight even starts."

"Weapon?" Hope asked in confusion, meeting his eyes again, "This morning, they used their fists."

With a nod, he offered a grim smile, "The mornings are hand-to-hand. Less of a show to make the audience crave more. At night they add in 'specialties,' they call them. Something to add a little spice to the show, I guess. You never know what weapon they might throw in the ring. One time they offered a machete and a feather. Knowing the fight would intensify if there was only one purposeful weapon."

Hope massaged her temples and sighed softly, eyes unfocused as she thought over the new information. "Okay. So I might have a weapon, I might not. And Flynn is...mostly for show?"

"Don't confuse that with all bark and no bite," he corrected quickly, "He's dangerous, more so than others, and he's a crowd favorite. They'll root for him, not for you. Every stroke of his ego makes him more on edge, and with how the fight went this morning, I don't know if the rules have changed from maiming to killing. You need to be ready."

"I'm ready," Hope lied.

Hope left the security of her corner to approach the back wall hole where the latrines were. She didn't care for their location, one open room behind a rock wall was the only privacy offered, but at least she was alone in the room.

She unbuttoned her jeans and suddenly regretted how quickly she'd drank her water at lunch. Looking down at the hole in the rock she was supposed to sit on, she got a chill. It really was like a prison here. Ten holes were carved out from the stone on either side of the room and one cold wash bin in the center. No soap, of course. Rebekah would have had something snarky to say about that, but not even the thought of her aunt could make her smile now.

Just as she was starting to unzip, she heard footsteps. Oh, great, now she'd have to pee in front of someone who thought she'd be dead by the night's end. She sighed and turned around. Maybe she could shoo whoever it was so she could get two seconds by herself.

A hand clamped over her mouth and pushed her up against the wall. Not hard, but firm. Hope's knee instinctively raised sharply but was stopped by a hand before she could properly ball-bust this moron preying on women in the bathroom. Maybe it would be fitting if he lost his favorite appendage today.

Before she could connect her thought with the action her hand would take, she froze. The man smirking before her had eyes she would never forget. Eyes so blue she'd always needed a life jacket to keep herself from drowning. The first eyes that had looked over her naked body.

"Benjamin?" she blinked in surprise, her voice muffled by his hand.

"I do apologize, darling..." he trailed off with a slight chuckle, "But I assumed you'd prefer our discussion before using...that," he looked down at the hole in the rock, "Thing they pass off as a bathroom."

Questions pelted her brain like hail against concrete.

She pushed his hand away. "How...what are you...why are you..." she couldn't get all her questions out at once. It was nothing but a jumbled mess she couldn't decipher.

"Hope," Benjamin took hold of her shoulders, dark brows furrowing, "I need to be quick with this. I can't let anyone know I've come down here."

Hope looked him over. He wore a suave gray suit as opposed to his usual casual attire, his raven hair slicked back, and easily his most expensive cologne placed in strategic areas. He was dressed to impress and smelled of wealth and a large fortune. While Benjamin had always been charming, it was only when he needed something in particular that he changed his persona and upped his too-rich-for-you aesthetic.

"You're a patron," she accused. She fought to keep her eyes from watering, "You're here to bet on a winner, aren't you...."

"No, Hope, I'm not," he argued quickly, "They think I am, but I'm here to put an end to all of this." He offered a soft sigh and glanced over at the room's opening to make sure no one was coming and then looked back at her. "Marcel sent me to follow this thing a few months ago. I've made myself friendly with the others, made it seem as though I'm with them," he rolled his eyes then, "I'm an aristocratic vampire with an endless bank vault. They love me up there, and I need it to stay that way until we can take this thing down from the inside."

The new information jumbled in Hope's brain, and she looked around. Everywhere but his face. "So you're here to hustle insider information...to stop the show?" She asked. Honestly, she'd forgotten he worked under Marcel. They'd parted so long ago...no, stop. None of that matters right now.

"Hope..." he must have seen where her mind had gone. "I know now isn't a good time to talk, but later...when all of this is over...."

"I'm going to stop you right there," she held up a hand, finally meeting his eyes with her own ferocity, "I will do everything I can to bring this thing to its knees to help the people who are suffering here, but in no way mistake that as forgiveness, Benjamin. That is the end of that discussion. Now tell me what you know."

Benjamin gave a soft, audible sigh but slowly nodded. She didn't like that glint of determination in his eyes. "I'm going to get you out of this, Hope. Just trust me, right now, the less you know, the better. If they think you know more than the others, they'll stop you quickly. You just have to hold out until your family gets here."

"My family?" she asked. Chills of excitement raced over her skin, sending her heart into a gallop.

Benjamin nodded. "I received a letter from Marcel this morning, asking where the show is right now. Once I can get a witch to respond with the location, he said they'll be on their way."

"Did it say anything else? Mention anyone else?" she asked, her tone reaching peaks of desperation. Derek's mind flashed through her mind. She didn't know where he was, what had become of him. If she knew Derek as she thought she did, he'd be out searching for her...and the notion of him being killed in the process...Hope's stomach squeezed, and she felt suddenly dizzy with the memory of the nightmare she'd had not so long ago.

Derek, on his knees. Being executed.

She'd killed them. They were gone, but Dorian...Dorian was different. He wouldn't play around with him to get to her; he already had her. He would kill him without a second thought, and the idea sent another wave of nausea through her practically empty stomach.

"No," Benjamin answered, pulling her back, "But I did hear another rumor...." Benjamin paused, staring at her with an uneasy gaze.

Hope frowned, tightening her jaw as she urged him to go on with her hand.

"They said they found someone snooping around. Getting a little too close for comfort," he watched her as if weighing her expression, "I heard Dorian himself say they have their own secret weapon. They didn't say who it was or who it would be aimed at, but if my instincts are right, I will wager they'll use whoever it is against...you."

Me. Hope thought - of course, me. What fun would Dorian get out of this if he didn't make it interesting? Why did it seem Dorian knew what her play would be before she even had the chance to play it?

In the beginning, she'd anticipated the ring, maybe not as quickly as this, but she'd expected to fight nonetheless. She'd prepared to sidestep the competition, making the fight impossible if they couldn't catch her. Making the show suffer if she wouldn't fight back. She'd trained that strategy for months with her family, but this morning Dorian had forced the competitors to fight, likely with magical foul-play. Now he had a weapon, but not just any weapon. Someone to use against her.

To make her fight and cause the spectacle he wanted.

Before, she'd felt fine when it had been only her life on the line in the ring. Nervous, but fine. Now, knowing there might be someone she truly cared for could be hurt or even be killed because she refused to fight made everything different.

It could be Derek.

It could even be Stiles. Poor, defenseless Stiles.

Hope's shoulders stiffened. Her decision was set - neither of them would die tonight. Dominik had been right. The rules are different here.

There are no shades of gray, only black and white. Kill or be killed.

After Benjamin disappeared and Hope shakily relieved herself, she left the latrines. Walking past Flynn and his crew and toward her corner where Dominik waited for her. Her expression had hardened, as had her resolve.

"You ready, kid?" he asked. "They'll call you to the ring in less than an hour."

"As I said," she answered, her eyes dark- emotionless, "I'm ready."

This time she meant it.