Daylight expired, leaving behind dusty shades of violet. Rebekah was right, Hope thought, as she walked the streets of Manhattan.
This city never sleeps.
The past three years since leaving her not-so-quiet life in Virginia had been a whirlwind of change. She'd embraced the freedom, finding solace in the unexplored corners of the country with her trusty, rusty RV.
A new adventure beckoned every few months, and she was always ready to answer the call. Hope would find little pieces of land to settle into, peacefully living off the land, but now it was time for a different scene. Something she hadn't been a part of in a long while.
City life, she thought. It starkly contrasted the peaceful, natural surroundings she'd become accustomed to.
Hope wrinkled her nose as a fat rat squeezed itself into one of the street drains but continued walking. At least in the forest, the animals weren't covered in sewage.
Still, it was nice having as much running hot water as she wanted, provided she "paid" the bill on time or, in other words, compelled her landlord to let it slide at the end of each month.
A thumping bass from nearby drew her attention, guiding her off the street she was on and through a few alleyways. She walked with a strut of confidence that didn't quite match her small stature. Most people would look at her and think of her as an easy target.
If only they knew.
Strobing maroon lit the mouth of the alley ahead. She assumed a bar, and it sounded like karaoke night.
Either way, a bar meant booze, and she could use a drink before returning to her lonely one-bedroom apartment. Though, she could hardly call it a one-bedroom, as it was truly just one room with a pull-down bed.
Could she stay in a nicer area with all the amenities she wanted?
Certainly.
That, however, was a gamble when she was trying to stay under the radar. No one questioned when the alcoholic landlord was making strange choices. Like not kicking her out for being broke.
Looking down at her plain-black t-shirt and jeans, she pulled the bottom hem down, bringing out her cleavage. Who knew? Maybe she'd find someone in here worth a night of dancing the tango in the sheets.
Hope glided down the stairs and was immediately met with a strange wave of something. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but it was intense. The second strange thing was the smell.
No, she didn't expect a random bar in the middle of New York City to smell pleasant, but it didn't smell like piss on the walls either.
It was almost animal.
"She's a pretty one." A man's deep, guttural voice grumbled under his breath. He obviously did not intend for her to hear him, so she pretended she hadn't as she made her way to the bar.
The sticky, disgusting bar seemed to match the floors. Each step felt like ripping off a band-aid.
"Dibs." Another chuckled, not far off. He, unlike the other, had absolutely meant for her to hear.
With the amount of testosterone in the room, Hope would have thought she'd walked into an interesting gay bar, but looking around, she noticed women mixed and intermingled in the bunch, too.
An unhealthy amount of eyes were trained on her- even the performer on stage had stopped to stare.
Hope glanced up at the bartender; a man with a shaved head built like a house leered down at her.
"I think you may have stepped into the wrong bar." He said through a yellow grin.
Hope glanced around once more and nodded slowly before turning her sights back on him. "Right. Old-fashioned, please."
Her space suddenly grew smaller as two men, who she could possibly classify as handsome if not for their failing personalities, slid next to her.
Sandwiching her in.
Sighing softly, she watched the bartender. He didn't even move to make her drink, and she suspected she wouldn't be having an old-fashioned tonight.
Bummer.
This was what she got for trying the city life. Tomorrow, after she showered from the blood bath, of course, she'd move on to another part out in a rural area where men were eaten by bears after thinking they could fight them and win.
"You smell amazing." The dark-headed man to her right murmured, laying a hand on the meat of her thigh.
"Can you not?"
"I do what I like." He chuckled darkly, his lips brushing the shell of her ear.
Hope let out a breath and nodded. "That's fair." She took his hand and, in less than a second, crushed it. "I do what I like too, and I don't like you."
He let out a howl of pain, staggering off the stool and clutching his hand to his chest. The hand now looked like it had been trapped under a trash compactor.
In the next instant, as if that alone hadn't been enough excitement, the side door to her left burst open with a loud bang. She looked over, watching the door swing loosely on its damaged hinges.
Standing in the doorway was a large man with long black hair that hung in braids to his waist. Paired with handsome, angular features and darkened skin, she immediately wondered: Who is this person?
The man glared around the room with dark eyes, a low growl rumbling deep in his chest.
No time for that, Hope thought as she slipped off the stool and disappeared to the bathroom. Whatever he intended to do in this weird-ass bar was none of her concern.
Locking the bathroom door behind her to slow anyone who might follow, she spotted a tiny window above one of the stalls. It was about half the size of an ordinary window, but it would have to suffice.
Hope stood on the toilet seat, making a mental note to throw her shoes in the wash when she returned to the apartment before smashing out the window with a quick fist thrust. She cleared off the jagged edges with her fingers and hoisted herself up and through, no muss, no fuss.
She landed on her feet below, rubbing her blood-tinged fingers across her jeans, and took off down the alleyway in a blurred sprint.
It was obvious no one would be hot on her heels, but she wouldn't take any chances until she made it safely to her building. The clear tinge of magic still clung to her nose and tongue, and she couldn't help but think the people in the bar were far from human.
Best not to make herself a target if she hadn't already.
When she could see her shabby complex in the distance, Hope slowed to a casual walk. She looked up at the moving cloud that seemed to enjoy blocking the moon. A shame she couldn't see the stars, she thought as she paused to watch the underbelly of a helicopter fly across.
That was when she heard the footsteps.
Glancing over her shoulder, the man from the bar—not the one who had touched her, but the solidly built man who crashed through the door like the Kool-Aid Man—wasn't too far off.
"Oh, shit." She murmured and took an immediate right turn, only to collide with another body with a breathlessumph.
If anything, she wasn't prepared for the warm smile he offered or the sublime introduction. "Hello, I'm Samuel and-"
That was as far as he got before she drove her knee into his gut and turned with blinding speed.
A Vampire's speed.
Well, she certainly couldn't go back to her apartment now. They'd know where she lives. Hope had found enough trouble while visiting New Orleans.
Frankly, she was over it.
"Wait!" The man called after her, but she was already dashing over dumpsters and zig-zagging around buildings.
If they weren't human, which she was almost certain they were not, they'd be able to find her through basic skills.
Hope needed a mask, and she needed it fast.
"She's fast!" One called out breathlessly as another grunted in response.
Too late for a spell, so she ducked into a tiny 24-hour cafe and slid into a corner seat. She waited, watching the window, and not two minutes passed before she saw them walk by. Frozen is in her chair, Hope watched them, and to her relief they didn't linger.
Letting out a soft sigh, Hope rubbed her fingers against her temples. She'd been living in the city for three months now, and her streak of peace had ended.
It was inevitable for Hope Mikaelson to find violence.
A curse, really.
Hope looked up to the sound of a knock on the window, and there they stood beyond the glass. One glaring and one smiling, beckoning her to come out.
Glancing around, she observed the people enjoying their late-night espresso and looked back at the window. Slowly shaking her head. If they wanted retribution for what happened at the bar, they'd have to find it somewhere else.
The one who smiled but still built like a tank, looked to his right and seemed to beckon someone.
Hope watched as a petite woman stepped into the window's view and, more importantly, how the glaring man snaked a protective arm around her waste.
The red curls of her hair bounced as she peered through the window at Hope, though the action strangely didn't make her uneasy.
One moment, the woman stood there, embraced by the man, and the next, she was prying him off to go inside. Hope immediately started to stand, ready to run out the back.
"They'll be there waiting for you if you run," the redhead said, offering her hands up in surrender as she moved closer, "I just want to talk."
"Right, like your buddies back at the bar 'just wanted to talk'?" Hope asked, leaning back in her chair, addressing her cooly.
"I apologize for his actions. He's been…taken care of."
"Taken care of?" Hope asked, raising a brow at her before flicking her eyes over her shoulder at the window again, watching the dark-brooding brute stare her down. His shoulders were tense, and he continued to wring his hands as if imagining it was her neck.
Maybe, in his mind, it was.
The woman bit her lip and smiled. "That's Charles, don't mind him, and I'm Anna, and next to Charles is his brother-"
"Samuel," Hope finished for her, "I heard."
Though he still wore a carefully crafted smile, Samuel also had a rigid posture. They were worried about sending Anna in, that much she could tell.
Hope turned her eyes back on Anna. "If everything's right in the world, why chase me?"
"Why run?" Anna asked, tilting her head to the side.
Hope scoffed, "Because I'm impulsive. Not stupid."
"Well," Anna laughed lightly, "it isn't a good idea to run from Werewolves."
So she'd been, right? The bar had practically been a Werewolf den, and she'd walked right in, but since when did Werewolves have packs in the middle of a city?
Hope remembered the recent headlines she'd read when she'd gone off the grid. A different species of Werewolf had come out to the public. From what she'd read, they were trying to introduce them as good, kind-spirited citizens who lived among them. Hope had been stunned simply to discover there was another type of Wolf she didn't know about.
Then again, life was funny that way. It always had a way of surprising you when you least expected it.
"Great, noted." Hope looked over at the window and wanted nothing more to bear her fangs at them but resisted the urge.
"The fact is," Anna continued, drawing her attention back, "you managed to crush the hand of an Alpha, and yet…" she leaned forward, taking in her scent, which made Hope promptly scoot her chair back, "you smell nothing familiar to me."
"It's a new perfume. Got it at the mall. It's a bestseller."
Anna managed to smile and slowly shook her head. "We were curious, is all. About how a woman who should not have been able to take on a pack Alpha could have walked away. Completely unscathed."
Hope raised an eyebrow, very aware of the growl Charles gave from outside.
"What do you want me to admit? That I ate my spinach this morning?" She grinned and leaned forward. "I bow to no one. Least of all men with a superiority complex."
Anna didn't speak, but she offered her hand across the table, to which Hope looked down and stared at it.
"What are you doing?" Hope asked, leaning back gain.
Anna bit her lip and nodded. "Can you find it in yourself to trust me?"
"No," Hope said shortly, looking up from her hand at her, "trust is earned, and I've spent the last hour being harassed by Werewolves who claim they are 'just curious.'"
Anna slowly withdrew her hand and nodded slowly. "Look out for yourself, okay? We took care of the Pack at the bar, but they've drawn enough attention that the city is swarming with hunters."
"I can take care of myself."
"I'm sure you can," Anna said, offering a small smile as she stood and pushed her chair in, "just be careful."
With those parting words, Anna left the table and returned to Charles' arms. For a moment, Hope wondered if they would actually leave, and to her surprise, they did.
Still, she waited until dawn approached, and the early morning customers came in to abandon her place in the corner.
It was barely daylight as Hope collapsed into her springy mattress, groaning as the alarm clock she'd set started to scream from the collapsable nightstand. She slammed it shut and buried her head in the pillow, willing herself to fall asleep.
Though sleep evaded Hope, her raging thoughts did not.