Chapter 1

Olivia Stanford gazed out of the cab window, gloomily watching the rain patter against the fingerprint-smeared glass. She sighed and cradled her head in her arms, which were propped against the door. Onlookers would have interpreted her as sleepy, or even lazy, but she knew better. She kept a keen eye out for him. She would never feel safe, not even in her destination.

His figure, his sneer, his shaggy mane of hair haunted her everywhere she went, especially in her dreams. He lurked in the shadows of the back alley, and even in the shadows of the cab took on the shape of his appearance. Olivia shivered with the dark memories of her past.

She glanced around the tiny expanse of the cab, wrinkling her nose at the monotony of it. The seat she sat upon was grey, checkered with dark blue diamonds. A large, darkened stain blotted the floor beneath her feet, and her stomach turned at the thought of sitting where another patron had become carsick. Several cigarette burns were blackened into the lumpy seats. The air smelled funny, like dog breath and peanuts.

"Miss, where are you headed to?"

Olivia jumped and turned her head. She glared at the cab driver suspiciously, her speckled golden eyes narrowing into hard slits. "Did you say something to me?"

The car slowed to a stop as they approached a red light. The driver turned slowly at her and replied in a thick accent that she couldn't quite place.

"Yes'm I did. Where are you goin'?"

She shook her unruly sable locks away from her shoulders before considering an appropriate response. "I'm going to a . . . boarding school in England. My parents say it's for the best."

The car turned onto an intersection. She could see many cars and vehicles passing by very cautiously through the heavy sheets of rain. It seemed as though her life were going by just as sluggishly, and with such imminent danger always prowling in the Muggle world, it was not a positive thought.

"You rich or somethin'?"

Olivia shook her head. She replied, "No, but we can manage pretty comfortably."

The cab driver nodded, in reply. "Yeah, my folks wanted to send me to a boarding school in Michigan. The only problem was that we were never that rich. I'm the eldest of four, and I actually have five years of college under my belt." He paused momentarily. "I had to get a scholarship to actually go to college. Then I had to work off the next year. If only I'd done my part in the family, we'd all have had better lives. Look at me! I'm a cab driver with a bachelor's degree!" He laughed, his voice full of regret and venom.

Olivia managed a half smile. "I'm sorry it didn't turn out the way you wanted it to." She turned again to the window.

Cars whirred past, splashing the cab's windows with muddy slosh. The downpour of rain immediately began to wash it away. Through the obscured glass, she looked up into the murky clouds and out to the darkening horizon. The sun had been setting for a while now, shrouding the world in a morose film of darkness. The horizon pulsed with a purplish hue, the last remaining color among the indigos and the blacks. Usually the color that signified fall, the thought of the horizon alone sent Olivia comfort. It was so lively, so full of joy that one even in her position had to appreciate the beauty of it.

The cab passed onto a bridge. She closed her eyes and held her breath as it bumped and rattled through her conscience intrusively. Olivia hated bridges. It made her feel like a fish on a hook, helpless and waiting for inevitable disaster. As it were, she already had enough trouble on her hands.

The back tires left the bridge. Olivia sighed in relief, her fingers uncurling from the hem of her shorts from when they'd unconsciously tightened. She opened her eyes slowly. Looking at the clouds, she saw them mutate silently into shapes. She squinted as they took form. Involuntarily, she started wheezing and gasping for breath. He heart jumped into her throat.

There, in the clouds, No! He was the clouds! His yellow eyes seemed to burn holes into the back of her skull. His lips twisted into a smirk, then a sneer. She saw his blood stained teeth, his scraggly whiskers, and as she watched, he threw back his head and laughed.

She screwed her eyes shut, rocking her shivering frame back and forth. Someone seemed to be speaking to her, but she blocked out any external connections to her emotions. It wasn't until after several long minutes did she cease to do so. She peered out of a cracked eye and relaxed. His face was gone.

"Just a dream," she whispered in an attempt to console herself. "A figment of my imagination."

"What?" The driver looked at her in the mirror with concern, the bushiness of his eyebrow poised in a crooked arch.

She shook her head and smiled reassuringly. "I'm all right. I sometimes talk to myself, you know? It's kinda a habit." Olivia picked at her cuticles nervously, a true habit she did when she lied to someone.

The driver nodded, easily convinced by her bluff and said, "Okay. You gave me quite a scare. I'm Earl by the way."

"Hi Earl. I'm Olivia Stanford." Oh yeah, I forgot to mention . . . I'm a witch and I've been bitten by a werewolf . . .

XXXX

She shook water droplets from her coat as Earl pulled the cab away, his rear lights flashing in departure. Olivia stared after it for several moments, the sensations she'd felt in the confining vehicle slowly beginning to ebb. A car honked at her for standing in the drop off area, and Olivia hurried back onto the curb. Sighing, she spun around and hoisted up her many bags of heavy luggage.

London, here I come.

Olivia slowly dragged her suitcases toward the sliding doors of the humongous airport. It was full of noise and commotion, not including the roar of the arriving and departing planes. Many people bumped into her; most of them turned to apologize. She felt uncomfortable, with all those people surrounding her. Could one of them be part of his pack? She couldn't tell. Suddenly, she felt so small, so helpless, so alone . . .

"May I help you, miss?"

A deep voice made Olivia snap into her cluttered, bustling reality of the airport. She looked up, seeing a man in a uniform who was studying her carefully.

"Excuse me?" Her voice trembled with unease, with meek intimidation in response to his vociferous conversational skills.

"Would you like to help getting your luggage onto a cart?"

Olivia nodded and thanked the man. He grabbed her two heaviest bags out of the four and set off. She followed at a safe distance. Even though he seemed helpful, a lot of times the polite strangers were the ones to keep a sharp eye out for.

The man took a cart and set the bags down on it. "Here," he said, taking the last of the load from her.

Slightly convinced that his intentions were not misleading, Olivia thanked him and pressed a bill into his hand in hopes that he would leave quickly. Tipping his hat, he walked off to help an elderly lady who was struggling to pull an enormous, flowered purse from an x-ray scanner. Olivia turned and went to check in.

After she had showed a clerk her passport, had her bags checked, and the normal routines finished at any airport, she went to sit down at her section to wait. She pulled out one of her many sketch books and a pencil. She loved to draw. There wasn't anything more fun to do. She opened it to a clean page and started to sketch. Arcs, dips, shading, and many crisscrossed lines flew over the paper. She did not draw blindly, however. She let her hand guide her. As her hand soared across the paper, she became absorbed in her rare time of fun.

"Will sections A16 through D20 please approach the counter. It is time to board the plane."

Olivia looked up. She gazed down at her ticket. B12. "Ugh, time to go."

As she put her finished picture into her backpack, she truly observed it for the first time. It was a picture of a wolf, howling at the first full moon of the month. Scoffing at the pathetic irony, she stuffed it quickly into her backpack. Olivia picked up her things and boarded the plane.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything of J.K. Rowling's ideas. I do own the plot and some of the characters.