A/N: Thank you anyone who's still with me after this unforgivably long wait for an update, but I love you all for reading this far.

I would like to dedicate this chapter to my brilliant and inspiring friend mockingjay01. Even if you're mad at me at the moment—I still love you! Thank you so much for the endless nagging over the past weeks to make me update, I never would have done this without you! And, as promised, I will make sure I am ready to update by Saturday (my official "update day" now—another brill idea of hers). Mockingjay, I would also like to say sorry that I couldn't fit Michael/Audrey into this chapter, but you can see why it wouldn't work. I promise their chapter is coming up soon!

Other than that, hope you enjoy! And, as always, please read and review! (Just to let you know, if you review for me, I'll review for you—spreading the positive karma! ^_~)

Disclaimer: Neveah © SickRose, all other characters © L. J. Smith.

Chapter Two – Shattered Shadow

Julian POV

"Go to the dream." Jenny's soft voice instructed. Her last words to him—perhaps the only words of hers which he would ever obey—before the aching numbness consumed him entirely. And go to the dream he did. Infinite fluttering thoughts he floated on and in-between, sometimes he would even catch the glowing golden essence of Jenny's own dreams but there was no rest, no peace. Not for him. Not now. Now he saw that he hadn't really, truly, died. Perhaps the fates had always planned for his rebirth. It seemed like little more than a dream. A dream that you don't even know you're dreaming until you awaken and then memories haze and blur too fast for you to recall anything save from maybe that vague sense of tranquillity. And just like any mortal dream, Julian was all-too reluctant to be awoken from it.

A raw, tortured, infant-like scream was the first thing that alerted Julian to his consciousness. It took another couple of moments to realise that it was his scream. The creation of a shadow-man was no easy event—not for either the creator or the created—and this second re-birth was no less painful than his first.

Julian felt every slash, every cut, gouged into the rune stave deep in his very being. Translated into runes, his name felt so very long—the sharp, scarring pain seemed endless. He didn't even bother to retain his cries this time.

Finally, the long, agonizing seconds passed one by one, impossibly drawn out, and Julian's torture was over. His body fell crumpled to the floor, he was breathing heavily, entire body shaking as he tried to gulp down the cool air to sooth the searing wounds inside. Even when he felt secure that his surroundings were no longer going to vault him off balance, Julian couldn't be bothered to sit up. Why? What's the point? Why does it even matter anymore? Until the distracted mutter of the other presence that Julian hadn't taken the time to acknowledge caught his attention.

"What did you say?" Julian demanded sitting bolt upright, now. Surely it wasn't what he thought… but other refused to acknowledge his question with little more than a tilt of the head from where the figure sat—so far above him self—on a stack of tables. She was perched on the edge with an effortless elegance—despite the fact that the stacked tables seemed like a rather precarious structure—like she could she just take off and fly at a moment's notice. Eyes wide and expression neutral, she was looking down on him in the way a curious child might, as if she was wondering what he would do next. Julian had never seen this woman before but he knew she was of the Shadow race and, judging by the still-bleeding slash on her wrist, she was also the one who had engraved his name onto the rune stave.

"What did you say?" he repeated threateningly, voice filled with more ice than Isa could summon. He knew what she had said but he wanted to hear her repeat it.

The woman smiled sweetly. "Oh, I'm sorry. I must have been talking aloud to myself. Don't mind me."

Somehow it was that sticky-sweet voice that finally betrayed Neveah's identity to him. Neveah. Julian had never known Neveah, but he certainly knew of her. It was hard not to. Neveah was somewhat infamous. She didn't co-operate with the other shadow men as was expected of her, she wasn't even a loner by exclusion like Julian. Neveah's malicious schemes went as much against her own species as they did humans—her preferred choice of game. Someone with such a twisted sense of the word 'fun', someone with no care in the world save her own personal amusement, someone as dangerous, cunning and determined as Neveah was simply too dangerous to be allowed existence. That was why her name was scratched out so often... but some idiot always found an excuse to bring her back. That was how manipulative Neveah could be; even in her non-existence she found a way to get under people's skin. If what he'd heard was true, the last time she had been granted a breathing body, Neveah had indirectly started world war one.

And now she wanted Tom.

"You can't have Tom" Julian told her, jaw set rigid.

"I'm sorry," She said, innocently raising an eyebrow. "I didn't realise you had first claim on him... I didn't realise you liked that sort of thing either." She added, teasingly.

Julian was somewhat taken aback at this not-so-subtle suggestion. "No, I don't have any claim on Tom... But he's Jenny's, you can't just take him for yourself."

"Oh, you know I wouldn't just take him... What would be the fun in that? It wouldn't be fair; he's got to have a fighting chance. Another game is in order, I think..." Neveah trailed off, musing the many possibilities she could torture Tom— and, indirectly, Jenny—with.

Julian stared at her in horror. Neveah smiled, seemingly taking delight in his suffering.

"Of course, when I win, that would leave Jenny easier prey to you... Since it seems you failed miserably your first three attempts." Her voice turned sour for the last part of her sentence. Maybe it indicated that she might at least be hearing his words, though he doubted that she would actually listen. It was a poorly concealed attempt to anger him—and it worked, but not how she had intended.

"No, that's not right. I don't want Jenny; I just want her to be happy—and she's happy with Tom."

Neveah leaned back slightly, head tilted to him, causing a black cascading waterfall of hair to spill over her shoulder as she looked down on Julian, assessing him. "Death has not been kind to you, has it? Where's your sense of fun? Of risk and gamesmanship? You are nothing more than a shattered shadow of a man."

"Nor has death been kind to you; it seems you are only made more heartless each time" Julian was deathly angry now but it all seemed to merely reflect off Neveah. She still remained cool as she teased and played with him. Now she was putting on a mask of pouting.

"Aw, Julian, that hurts; I do not mean to be." She sniffled, wiping away a non-existent tear before dropping the act and returning to her usual cool self. This only made Julian madder.

"I love her! Do you even know what that means?!" He yelled.

A dark shadow seemed to pass behind Neveah's glittering grey eyes. She paused dangerously before replying. "I know enough." She stated simply, pulling out a lethal-looking ceremonial knife as she did so.

It seemed that Neveah had tired of their conversation as, in one seamless movement, she floated from the top of the stacked tables, drawing a few more beads of blood from her wrist with the knife upon landing. Painting over the rusty stains of the runes engraved in the doorway across the room with her fresh scarlet blood, before chanting aloud the name of each rune in turn, intoning each syllable as a lover would the name of his mate. Whilst Neveah was distracted, Julian took the time to survey his surroundings. Where were they? Oh. Of course. Where else? When he thought about it, he saw that this was the most convenient pre-existing break between Jenny's world and his. Naturally, it was one that he, himself, had originally made in his pursuit of Jenny. Only he'd assumed it had been destroyed—the last time he'd been here the room had been smothered in flames. Although, once created, nothing in the shadow-world was ever really destroyed. It seemed that, somehow, Jenny's cousin—Zach—had recreated the print, allowing the inter-world connection to be re-established. This was the picture of Jenny's school cafeteria, the place where he'd held captive Jenny's friends.

That meant that the door Neveah was taking out into the human world would probably lead into Zachary's garage. Neveah couldn't be stopped. Julian knew, with a sickening sense of foreboding, that he had no choice but to follow.