Author's Note: This is a Twilight fanfiction, but it surrounds Bella's half-sister, Janie Dwyer (the time-line doesn't completely work, but this is my story, so it does now! : ). Post Eclipse, pre Breaking Dawn. Reviews are much welcome. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I obviously do not own any characters that you recognize from the Twilight saga.

Wild flashes of colours danced around the crowded rooms. Most were bright; others were less risqué – still, there was so much confusion that it was nearly impossible to think straight. Or maybe that was just because of the drinks they were serving.

Next, there were masks of assorted shapes, textures, and colours. Impossible designs printed on material, it's only purpose to hide the identity of the wearer. Silly, perhaps, and dangerous – but I lived for the excitement that went along with the danger.

It had always been my calling. Anything that posed a threat instantly intrigued me, called my name in hushed tones… and it became increasingly loud if I tried to ignore it. Usually, I gave into the temptation.

Or, as sometimes the case may be, I was the tempter. The temptress, perhaps, would be a better fit. It certainly held a nice ring to it.

And thus the scene was laid out before me; I, decorated in a dress of golden, the mask embedded with jewels like sapphires, tempting a few fine specimens of the opposite sex.

What danger was there, really? It wouldn't be anything that I couldn't handle myself, if a situation aroused – probably.

The worst that I could think of was that I couldn't find a ride back to my temporary home. No big deal, I could call Renée. She'd pick me up. Of course, after finding out I was partying it up at an underground masquerade, she'd most definitely be upset. But then again, that wasn't too big a deal. It wouldn't be the first time.

Of these thoughts I was not thinking; my focus was spent entirely on the tasty treat that stood across the room. I felt his eyes trail down my body, his gaze lingering before returning to my eyes. Despite my simple age of sixteen, I could still draw enough attention with my body. I was blessed, it seemed.

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you."

The voice from beside me made me jump. With my back against the counter of the bar and my eyes focused to my left, I hadn't been paying attention to the happenings at my right-hand side.

I took a moment to look, and immediately I liked what I saw. The boy was stunning. His dark brown hair was short but tousled, and his brooding eyes surprised me; instead of a brown I expected, it was a shade of gold – more tawny than gold, perhaps. Instead of being on me, his gaze was directed towards the untouched drink in his hand.

I eyed him carefully, glancing at him sideways, as if I wasn't interested in him. His profile showed off his strong jaw and prominent nose, and I couldn't help but notice the radiance of his skin. It was so white, almost marble-like.

Fighting back the urge to reach out and touch it, to see if it was as hard as it looked, I asked, "Do what?"

My voice was slightly higher than I intended it to be. My heart fluttered slightly, as if just noticing how beautiful he really was. The silky, navy blue shirt he wore underneath a black blazer was dressy enough to fit in here, but not so much to stand out if he were walking down the street. It suited him; there wasn't a need to stand out any more, his definite good looks already did that.

"The one in the corner, who's been eyeing your assets all night. He's not as shy as he seems," he said with a light, effortless shrug of his shoulders.

Now that I was paying attention to his voice, I could hear the melodic lines it held. Not only that, but, he carried a distinctly French accent – something that I adored.

I tried to keep my cool, though, and pretend as if that wasn't what I was doing.

"Don't be silly. If I had wanted something from him, I would have gotten it already," I retorted. Oh no, was that too confident? Did I seem as if I was a spoiled girl, someone who got what she wanted all the time? Maybe he thought I did this a lot – that I only wanted one thing from him, and then I'd toss him away.

Instead, he smirked.

"Bien sûr. I just thought you should be warned, is all," he turned his gorgeous face to look at me, his tawny eyes fixated on me.

I returned his gaze, and immediately felt it hard to hold it – but also impossible to look away.

"I- I appreciate it. Thanks, …?" my voice trailed off, suggesting for him to fill in the blank.

He surprised me, however, by smirking again – and then turning away from me.

My mouth dropped slightly; shocked that he would simply walk away when I had clearly wasn't finished with the conversation. He had left without telling me his name. I couldn't make up my mind on whether or not I should be angry with him for being so rude, or even more intrigued.

Closing my mouth abruptly, I set my jaw firmly and delicately pushed off from the counter. If he thought he could shove me off course from the cutie in the corner, he was wrong.

Said cutie spotted me walking confidently towards me and smirked. There was something that irked me about his smile – it was different, perverse… very unlike the mystery boy's had been.

"Hey there, doll. What can I do for you?" he asked, revealing the straightest pair of teeth I had seen. His voice was smooth, but hard; I much preferred the melody I had heard only moments before…

I flashed him a smile, looking up at him from underneath the mask. Now, closer, I could see that his skin was much like my mystery boy's was; somehow reflecting the dim lighting, but more icy and cold. The marble look was still there, though.

From afar, I had figured his hair was a light shade of blonde – perhaps platinum – but up close, it was as white as snow. The colour, or rather shade, blended with his skin, obscuring the lines. It was rather long and shaggy, covering his ears and eyes; he threw his head to the side to remove his hair from his eyes.

And his eyes were black.

My mouth opened slightly in a little 'o', and I let a light gasp out. The intensity of the pitch black surprised me, for I had not been expecting that. A thought flashed through my mind and I wondered why these boys seemed to have such strange eyes.

"You can offer me a dance, is what you can do for me, sir," I replied smoothly, as soon as my voice returned to me.

"Bien sûr. May I have this dance?"

There it was again – French. I hadn't noticed it at first, but there was a faded hint of accent left behind, it seemed, from many years ago. There were a few similarities and it made me wonder; could they be brothers? Or was this all a coincidence?

No, but the other boy had known this one. He had warned me of him.

Looking at him now, he didn't seem so dangerous. My lips pulled down in a light frown; not as dangerous as I had hoped. Still, he was gorgeous, and I had already made my way over here – so what did it matter? Maybe he was a good dancer.

"Bien sûr," I mimicked, putting on my best French accent. I took his hand and almost pulled it away – he was so cold. His grip was strong, though, and he led me to the dance floor.

"Very nice French, by the way," he complimented, the smirk still in place as he pulled me close to him. It wasn't just his hands that were cold – with his body in such close proximity to mine; I could feel the coldness seeping through our clothes.

"Merci beaucoup."

And then we danced.

His movements were quick and I could feel his hands roaming up and down my body, making me a bit uncomfortable. I ignored it and let myself go to the music; the steady beat thumping in my ears allowed me to free myself.

I was so caught up in the music that I didn't realize, at first, that his lips were so close to mine. He paused, waiting for me to react – when I didn't protest, he leaned forward and let our lips brush against each other.

Suddenly I felt his hands pull at the back of my head, entangling his hands in my platinum blonde curls. His kiss was hard and desperate – almost as if he was loosing control.

I tried to pull back, but he wasn't having that – at first. I moved my face to the side, so his lips brushed against my skin; despite my sunny upbringing, my skin was still only a few shades darker than his translucent white.

He got the hint. Pulling away, the smirk still in place, he settled for watching me. I refused to look at his face, but finally, I did. He was still watching.

So, okay, maybe the kiss wasn't so bad – and maybe he was a little bit more dangerous after all. No, he wasn't dangerous. But there was something I could do to liven up the situation.

Standing up on my toes – we had an obvious height difference, him being the taller – I threw my arms around his hard shoulders and pressed my lips against his. I could hear a throaty chuckle emit from him between gasps for air.

Finally, he pulled away, though his hands were still holding onto me tightly. "Want to go somewhere a bit more… private?" he asked huskily.

There we go; here was the dangerous situation I was thinking about. It seemed that he could read my mind… or maybe he just picked up on this because of my actions.

I nodded once. He let go of my waist to take my hand, almost crushing it in his stronghold.

My eyes scanned the crowd, not expecting to see anything of interest – and then my gaze was locked onto a single figure, sitting silently, watching me.

My mystery boy.

His gaze was cold and dark, and the lines of his mouth were turned down in a disappointed frown. But… was he disappointed in me?

Surely not. He didn't know me, so he shouldn't care who I danced with or… or kissed. Or went behind closed doors with.

I couldn't help but feel a tiny bit guilty when he disappeared out of my sight.

I thought that I could forget about the mystery boy, now that I had a gorgeous boy attached to my lips – but his disapproving eyes and disappointed frown was all I could picture when I closed my eyes.

Finally, I sighed, and pulled my face away.

"No," I said, trying to push him off of me. I had been too preoccupied with my thoughts to realize that I had been backed into a corner, and his hands had begun wandering.

But he was persistent, and also very strong – despite my best efforts, I couldn't budge him an inch. Maybe this was too much – too much danger than I had really wanted. I liked the thrill of danger… but not necessarily being in danger.

"Stop it!" I gasped, trying to turn my face – but then his strong, cold hands pushed it centred again, and his lips were back on mine.

It was then that I started to panic.

My entire body was shaking, frightened. I was unsure of what he was going to do – or what I was going to do to get him to stop.

When I tried to lift my foot to lash out at him, his hand was there, pushing it back. Goodness, he was so quick…

I felt a scream bubble in my throat, but with his lips locked on mine, I couldn't let it out.

From the opposite side of the room I heard a door swing open, crashing hard against the wall. Only milliseconds later, not nearly enough time for someone to walk over to us, something pulled the man off of me.

The scream that I was trying to release came out in a tiny chirp. With the pressure gone, I realized he had been holding me up; my shaking legs couldn't support me and I slid to the floor.

"Stay away from her, Casimir," a familiar, melodic voice warned – but his voice was low and dangerous.

The one that had forced himself on me – Casimir – snorted. Despite the amusement, there was anger poorly disguised in his voice. "She's mine, you know that."

"You know I don't approve of your appetite, either," he retorted.

Their speech was so fluid, so quick – it was difficult to keep up.

Casimir took a step towards my mystery boy. A low, threatening growl filled the room – I glanced around in wonder, trying to locate the source. I didn't think a dog could have gotten down here, but what else could it be…?

Finally, my eyes returned to the mystery boy, whose back was facing me, keeping himself in between Casimir and I. No, could it be possible? It sounded as if he was growling… but it sounded too vicious to belong to a human.

After a few long, silent moments, Casimir finally stepped down. His face was cross; his eyes flickered to me, and I gasped, seeing the fury in his eyes.

"This doesn't end with her, mark my words."