AN: Yes, another chapter! I've actually done it – world drops dead in shock. Here it is – chapter nine. Please, please review and let me know what you think – your comments keep me writing (albeit very slowly). Let me know what you think, you theories of what's going to happen...

I'm sorry for the wait! Love, Jude x ;)

Just a reminder of what happened last time...

Matt couldn't think, couldn't breathe. Sarifina wanted it to be over...because Becca loved him.

Even though he couldn't get the words out, she seemed to know what he meant. "Yes," the dancer murmured. "Go on. Talk to her, tell her, because otherwise you'll be stuck in limbo forever. Or she'll find someone else, Matt – or someone else will find her.

"Talk to her," Sarifina repeated as she stepped back. "Before it's too late."

He would. He would tell her soon, tonight, before that damn soda boy got a hold of her too tightly. He'd talk to her. Before it's too late.

Promises Not Made (Never Broken)

The problem with being in love with Matt, Becca mused as she stepped back out of the bathroom dressed in his black button-up and with her own soiled shirt over one arm, was that she never knew quite where she was with him. There were things he said, did, looked, which sometimes half-convinced her he knew how she felt – a concept which terrified her – and sometimes had her stumbling with the idea that his friendship for her could maybe develop into something more, which possibly terrified her even more.

But she'd made her decision now; she wasn't going to just wait around for him any more. Shade was...what could she say? Sure, she wasn't in love with him, but that instant attraction had to count for something, right?

Pausing for a moment to kick the shards of glass into one corner where she hoped nobody would hurt themselves, Becca crept over to where the band had left their bags, pushed her shirt hastily into the nearest one rather than digging through the pile to find her own. She didn't want to have to fight her way back through the room – well, if she was being totally honest with herself, she didn't want to have to walk past Matt and potentially Sarifina again – so the girl slipped out the rear entrance of the building.

The night breeze was cool against her heated cheeks, and Becca lifted her face to the sky where tiny pinpricks of stars glittered softly against the black. Outside the air was clearer, soothing her confusion until she was calm, until she could breathe easily and the throbbing ache of her hand pained her less. All she had to do know was find Shade, find him and see what he'd mean before when he told her goodbye, that he didn't know if he'd still be here.

The thought of him leaving had Becca hastening her footsteps, hurrying around the building towards the main door where she had first seen him. Music pulsed from inside, a strong and steady bass like a heartbeat; one she could feel vibrating through her fingertip as she reached out to take the handle.

Before her fingers could curl around it, the handle began to move; the door opened, spilling light and sound out into the darkness. A tall figure stood silhouetted for a moment against the bright, vibrant mass of humanity within; only a moment before the door swung closed, a barrier to everything inside.

How Becca knew that it was Shade, she couldn't have said.

"You stayed, then."

He took a step forward, forcing her back, and a flicker of the light on his face showed something different in him, a strange harshness in posture or expression. "Of course I did." His voice was lower, rougher. "I wasn't going to leave without getting what I came for."

Something cracked, chilled in Becca's heart, mixed in with a hefty dose of fear which had abruptly settled in her stomach. What had Matt said? You don't even know who he is...

What was she doing?

"If you're trying to scare me away, it's not going to work, Shade," she lied.

That delicious mouth twisted into a cruel smile. "I don't think I need to try all that hard, sweetheart," he smirked.

"Why are you doing this?" Her voice stumbled, broke over the words. Shade hesitated for a second, too briefly for Becca to notice, but the uncertainty was there. However, when he next spoke it was gone.

"I said you wouldn't want to know me." He drove her back another step, like a hunter cornering its prey. "I warned you. And yet here you are."

"What's that supposed to mean?" In place of the fear, anger began to rise, and Becca stood her ground. Perhaps it was an offshoot of her frustration with Matt, but she was suddenly and abruptly pissed off with both boys for treating her the way they had – and continued to. "Just what exactly was I meant to gauge from that, Shade? You don't say anything straight out. Nothing you say seems to mean anything."

His scent washed over her as he leant his head down closer to hers, close enough that it became a shadow blocking out the stars. "You should have stayed with your friends. Safe, inside. Away from me."

Becca's breathing hitched. "So you're dangerous?"

His reply ghosted from the darkness. "Infinitely."

The surety of his reply sent a shiver along her spine. "Why did you make such an effort to make me stay away from you?"

This time his hesitation was noticeable, although it gave the girl no pleasure. "You fascinate me."

"You told me that before."

"Yes."

"Why, Shade? Because of this?" Quite deliberately, she reached out her uninjured hand to touch his face before he could read her intention; the shock ran between them once more until he ducked back with alacrity. Too late, for she had already seen his eyes darken with recognition or pain.

"Please don't do that." His voice was low, almost too soft for her to hear.

Hot tears filled stung her eyes, filled her throat. "Why, Shade?" she repeated helplessly.

"Because," he replied. A pause. "Because – if I touch you – I can't pretend that you don't matter." The words came out in a rush, as if he hadn't really meant to say them at all but they had spilled too quickly for him to stop. For a long moment, they simply stared at one another.

Shade reached out with one long, pale finger to tuck back an errant strand of her dark hair behind one ear, his touch lingering against her cheek in a sort of slow, perfect torture. "You're a sweet girl, Becca. I don't want to hurt you."

"Then...don't." But she spoke the last word to empty darkness, because he had disappeared.

She stood still for a moment, undecided, before taking a small step away from the building. The girl glanced back at the door to the student union behind which all of her friends were, Shade's words echoing in her mind. You don't know me. Go back to your friends. Be safe.

Her head went up; she stood a little straighter, and hurried off into the darkness.

Not a moment too soon, for an instant later the door opened to cast a beam of light out to where she had been standing. Matt's form was starkly outlined against the warmth of the inside, his breath misting in the cool air as he opened his mouth to call out –

"Matt, dude, she didn't go that way." Hamish spoke from just inside the doorway.

At Matt's name, Becca had frozen, still invisible in the shadows just beyond the pool of light. A medley of emotions played across her face, an agony of indecision as to which way to go; which direction to choose. But then the rest of Hamish's words registered on her, and a stubborn set tilted her chin. So he still hadn't found Sarifina.

"Becca went out the back a while ago," Hamish continued. That would have been the moment for the girl to turn back, to step back into the safe familiar comfort where her friends partied. Matt was looking for her! That would have been her cue – if she had still been there to hear it.

She wasn't.

"Thanks," Matt replied morosely as he turned back inside, the door swinging shut behind him.

"No problem." Hamish took a swig of his beer. "Well done, by the way. You guys were awesome tonight."

Matt forced a grin. "I hope so, with Chris's cousin here and all. We'll be playing later, too, so stick around."

"Will do. Hey, tell Becca congrats from me, 'kay? You'll do great."

A couple of people called his name as he strode through the room, but Matt didn't stop. He had to find Becca – talk to her, apologise to her.

She wasn't in the corridor outside the bathrooms.

He even dared to glance inside the ladies' room, but she wasn't there.

She wasn't outside the back door staring up at the stars, as he knew was her habit.

He glanced quickly around, before setting off in the direction of the lake. Maybe she was down there.

Becca was indeed headed in the direction of the lake, where the reflections of the stars glimmered alongside those from the windows of the buildings surrounding it. The darkness reached out to envelop her as she glanced around nervously, made paranoid by every slight noise around her. Even the sound of the music had been left behind, faded as though heard from a different world.

"Shade?" Her voice was loud in the quiet. The answering silence was even louder.

Maybe he'd left. Maybe he'd gone back to the party, gone to find a new girl whose mind he could play with, whom he could charm and entrance and confuse all at the same time. He probably –

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

Becca let out a little shriek, unable to contain her surprise as the growl sounded right in her ear. She spun, came face to face with the owner of that voice. "God, Shade, you scared me!"

In the darkness, the boy's eyes were coal black, his face almost luminously pale and set in a snarl. "About bloody time," he hissed, catching both her wrists with one cold hand and gripping them firmly behind her back. His fingers were painfully tight over her wound, and Becca let out an involuntary cry of hurt which he ignored. "Just listen to me. Listen."

She nodded, wide eyes fixed on him. He seemed somehow animalistic, feral, strength coursing through his body as waves of anger radiated off him. Yet for some reason, even had she been able to move she wouldn't have. There was something strangely hypnotic in his fury, a compulsion from which Becca couldn't tear her gaze.

"You're going to turn around, and you're going to walk away. You're going to go back to your friends, stay inside. You're going to walk away and forget about all of this, forget about me. I'm dangerous, Becca," he added pleadingly. "Stay away. You're going to stay away." His face was close to hers, the scent of him overwhelming, voice low with intent. "Is that clear?"

She couldn't think, couldn't look away. "Crystal," she breathed.

"Good." His voice came out as a whisper, and then his mouth was on hers.

Hard, cold; pleasure and pain mixed together, mindless – delirious. Demanding and frantic, there was nothing tender about the way Shade kissed her, and yet there was intimacy beyond anything else Becca had known.

And she kissed him back. Her hands, still held motionless behind her with his bruising strength, strained helplessly; craving to touch and unable to, but her movement had him dragging her up against his taller, harder form, had her pressed up against his chest as close as she could possibly be without being a part of him.

He kissed her until her lungs were screaming for air, her body aching for and from his touch, needing more of his taste and scent; until his lips softened and he released her with a sigh.

Shade didn't let go of Becca; rather, his hands slid down to her waist, supported her with a gentleness belied by the bruises already beginning to form on her wrists, the fingermarks folded perfectly around each arm. He lowered his chin onto the top of her head, stared blindly up at the sky while her heartbeat still raced, waiting while her breathing gradually slowed and she stopped shaking. The scent of her in his nostrils was a physical pain – everything that she was enfolded him, a reminder of why it couldn't be her, why she shouldn't be here.

If he could have cried, he would.

"You have to go," he murmured.

"I don't want to."

"I don't want you to."

Becca let out a short, breathless laugh."You're a strange guy, you know that Shade?"

His lips twisted into a bitterly self-mocking grimace. "You don't know the half of it."

"So tell me."

He shook his head. "I don't think so."

Another long silence, while below them the waters of the lake lapped softly at the shore and above them the students of Dartmouth continued their party, oblivious to this little scene down by the edge of the water. Jen and Dan were dancing with their arms around each other, heedless of everyone else; Hannah and Josh were snuggled up on a couch together, her head on his shoulder; Jack, Jamie and Chris were starting to organise their band equipment to play again. Jack was watching Amy with his lips half curved into a smile, Jamie was keeping a weathered eye on his baby sister, and Chris was wondering where the other two members of his band were, angry with Sarifina because she was probably not letting him come back.

Sarifina was standing just outside the back door with silent tears running down her cheeks.

Matt wasn't there.

Becca was slow-dancing beside the lake to no music, with a boy who told her he was dangerous. One of Shade's hands rested in the small of her back, holding her gently against him while her arms hung by her sides, face nestled into his shoulder, eyes closed as their bodies swayed in rhythm to a song which only the two of them could hear.

Shade's face was a mask of agony, and all too abruptly he pushed her away.

"What is it?" Becca ran both hands back through her hair, watched him helplessly as he stood with his back to her for a long moment.

"Being this close to you hurts," he admitted after a long moment.

"Do you...do you want me to go?"

"No. But you should. I should go."

Neither of them made any move to leave.

Their eyes met, and for a confusing second Becca thought that his eyes were red. In one sudden, startling movement – faster than she could read his intention – he closed the distance between them, bringing her body flush against his. Her head fell back to look up at him, and then his face was at her neck.

Shade inhaled deeply; it felt as though he was trying to breathe in her essence, trying to commit her scent to memory. For some reason it sent a shiver through her; his closeness, paired with his own intoxicating cologne, were making Becca light-headed and she arched back involuntarily, felt his hands holding her gently but firmly to him.

"So how do I smell?" She tried to tease, but the words came out as a breathless whisper. Shade lifted his head so that his eyes – now pitch black in the darkness – could meet hers.

"Mouthwatering," he replied softly. She couldn't bring herself to speak as he studied her for a moment longer before dipping down suddenly to rest his forehead against hers. One hand cupped her face, its thumb absently stroking her cheek, while the other remained behind her back, holding her close. Becca's own hands slipped around his waist and she wondered at how cold he was.

"Shade," she murmured, about to suggest they go somewhere warmer, but the sound of his name seemed to startle him as he tensed, his forehead wrinkling into a frown.

"Becca."

He started to take a step back, but she clung to him; something told her that even all of her strength couldn't stop him from drawing away if he wanted to, but she couldn't let go. "Shade, please."

"What?" Strained, hoarse, that one word held a world of emotion.

Becca tilted her head back, offering her lips up to him once more, and she saw his own twitch into a half smile. His mouth met hers again, this time softer but with a restrained tension which drove her crazy, and she lifted both hands to his cheeks to pull him even closer, wanting and craving and needing more.

The moment her wounded hand came in contact with him, everything changed.

His mouth was no longer on hers; rather, he had seized her injured fingers with a motion so lightning-quick that she hadn't seen him move at all.

"Shade, that hurts," she whispered, unable to lift her voice any louder.

"You're bleeding."

His gaze had changed. She was still pressed up close to him, but the element was different; suddenly she was scared. His hand holding hers lifted it, stretching her arm behind his head until she was sobbing – half in fear and half in pain.

But then the ache in her wrist was insignificant as his mouth, cold and cruel and hard, crashed against her neck just where her pulse throbbed, skin and flesh tearing like paper under the assault.

She screamed once.

Her blood warmed his mouth as it flowed between them, and just as abruptly his face was gone. "I told you," he breathed. "I warned you."

"But..." ...you promised, she began weakly, and then realized that he hadn't. His only reply to her laughing request had been, you shouldn't be here.

"I'm so sorry," Shade whispered.

And then the vampire lowered his mouth back to her throat, and Becca felt herself falling, falling through darkness. Her vision cleared briefly as she met a pair of blood-red eyes from which the shadows had abruptly fallen, and her only thought was that she'd trusted him, believed in him, and he'd betrayed her.

"How could you?" she breathed, but as the strength ebbed out of her with her heartbeat, she couldn't be sure if the words had only sounded in her own head.

Becca tried to blink back the black spots which blurred her vision, but darkness enveloped her all too suddenly. Panicking, she reached out blindly, but cold hands caught hers and held them still.

A vibration of breath on her fingers which might have been the chill breeze:

"Becca, I'm so sorry."