Hello everyone, thanks for reading.

Just as a heads-up, this is the second draft of the novel i wrote during NaNoWriMo 2013. There will be some grammatical and spelling errors as well as a few minor plot holes and character inconsistencies. 

Let me know what you think.

I stared in horror as my only valium slipped out of my shaking fingers, bounced off my knee, tumbled and fell to my feet. I lurched forward, trying to snag it before it rolled away. Not even close, it was already rolling down the aisle. It finally stopped a few rows down and I sat back, gritting my teeth, ignoring the barf bag that Frederick was waving at me.

Okay, I can do this, no biggy, I lied.

My skin tingled and burned. I was losing control. That valium was key to my safety, hell, everyone’s safety.

I forced myself up and out of my seat. The shield that normally hid against my skin, flickered and tried to leap away. My vision suddenly shimmered, like looking through a soap bubble, thankfully invisible to everyone but me. I staggered back into my seat as I closed my eyes and fought the shield back against me, cursing the bastard beside me for winding me up so tight.

When I had boarded the plane, I had been fine. My shield had been sitting nice and quiet, a valium already floating in my system, popped after an incident with security. I guess hiding a pocket knife in my bra hadn’t been the best idea. Either way, Frederick must have seen the whole thing with security because he had almost giggled in glee when I sat down in my aisle seat, him beside the window.

He had been picking at me ever since and I couldn’t tell if he was flirting or if he was just tormenting me. Social situations were no longer my strong point. Consequence of having been home schooled at the start of grade eight. My shield had manifested itself that summer when Ben, my almost boyfriend, had tried to give me my first kiss. I must have been nervous because my shield threw him against the garden shed and I never saw him again.

I pulled myself out of the painful memory and saw a flight attendant heading towards me. Great, that’s all I needed. Someone else getting into my already irritated personal space. I choked back a whimper as I noticed the pill lying innocently in her path. My hand come up, futilely trying to stop her, but too late. The pill disappeared beneath her descending foot, a muffled crunch cascading through my ears.

“Are you okay? You don’t look too good,” asked the attendant as she reached my seat.

“She’s been pretty tense the whole flight,” piped in Frederick. “I don’t think she likes flying.”

The flight attendant ignored Frederick. “What do you need?”

“I’m a little dizzy,” I said weakly. “I just wanted to stretch my legs, but I guess I’ll sit for a bit.”

“I’ll get you something to drink,” she knelt down beside me, “and I’ll see if I can rustle up some gravol for you.”

When she was gone, I forced a slow deep breath and glanced at Frederick. His entire focus was on the retreating flight attendant. He was leaning back in his seat, head craned high just to keep eye contact with her wiggling rear end. I wanted to smack him, but knowing my shield, it would just shove him through the side of the plane. Not the most healthy thing to do while in the air.

My shield was still unsettled, sparking and stinging against my skin. Knowing I only had a couple of minutes before the flight attendant returned, I slid my hand up my sleeve, searching for purchase between my multitude of scars. A knife would have been handy, but seeing as I had lost my knife to security, my fingernails were the best I had. I sawed and dug and was finally rewarded with sharp, bright pain, just as the attendant returned to my side.

I jerked my hand from my sleeve and hid my bloody fingernail in my fist, hoping my black sleeve was dark enough to hide the welling blood.

Oblivious to what I had been doing, she deposited my drink and gravol on the folding tray. “I hope ginger ale is okay?”

“Perfect, thank you.”

The attendant nodded and left me to my medication. I unclenched my hand, pulling fingernails free of my palm and felt my shield ease back slightly. I needed just a bit more pain, but first the pill. I downed it with the ginger ale, but had no faith in its effects. My shield was stronger than minor pharmacy.

Frederick’s attention had wandered to his magazine of almost porn now that all the excitement was done. He’d be distracted until our short stopover in Toronto. Perfect, time to settle this shield before irritating it more with an intake of passengers. I shoved my fingernail back into the cut I had made and the pain was instant. It shot up my arm; intense, pure and almost enough.

I pushed deeper, breathing with the pain, feeling the sweat build at the nape of my neck. Finally, the pain eclipsed the electric tinge of my shield. I slid the napkin under my sleeve against the wound and as the pain ebbed away, found my shield quiet and sleeping against my skin.

For the first time, I felt the quiet promise of hope. I relaxed into the feeling and barely felt the plane land in Toronto. I didn’t realize we were already boarding until someone walked past. I looked up to find people hurrying down the aisle, juggling their tickets and carry-ons while peering at seat decals. Hope fled and I felt the familiar flutter of anxiety, but my shield continued it’s slumber. At least, until I saw her.

She was a grandmotherly woman, her large girth swathed in a voluminous dress of blue and yellow chrysanthemums. Clutched to her chest was a tapestry purse overflowing with magazines and snacks. She shuffled down the aisle, apologizing the whole way, but bumping every elbow and shoulder she came across.

Suddenly terrified, I shut my eyes and held tight to my trembling shield, praying she found her seat before she reached me. I waited, sweat trickling down my back. Her apologies echoed between my ears, while her footfalls vibrated under foot. I could hear the soft sound of fabric rubbing together and then I smelled her lily perfume just as her hip brushed my shoulder. It was all my shield needed. It flared away from my futile grip and my mind scrambled, sought to pull the shield back against me. With no mind to who was watching, I yanked my sleeve up and shoved a finger into my cut. Pain flooded my senses, dampening my shield, but it was too late.

The woman cried out as she stumbled away, people exclaiming, metal groaning. I cringed, waited for the screams to start, the blaming voices. My skin burned with my shields intense need to protect me from my fear, but somehow I held it close.

Then I heard her voice, “Oh, thank you dear. I was just about to go arse over tea kettle.”

“That’s no problem ma’am. I never complain about lovely women falling into my lap,” said a masculine voice, deep with a slight hint of gravely roughness.

A full belly laugh filled the plane. “You are so full of bull, but that’s the way I like them.” I could almost picture her squeezing the man’s cheeks.

I opened my eyes and slowly turned around. I watched as the woman eased herself out of the man’s lap and graciously accepted her purse and magazines from a stewardess. She continued down the aisle giggling and helplessly nudging people out of the way.

I glanced over at the gentleman who had saved her. He was waving away a concerned stewardess as he brushed off the remains of a crushed bag of potato chips from his faded jean shirt. I couldn’t help but notice his forearms, tight and defined as he picked the last chips from his khaki pants. Of their own volition, my eyes drifted to his face. He had a well trimmed beard and thick brown hair that looked like he was constantly running his fingers through it. Even his Clint Eastwood squint was handsome. It was then I noticed his blue eyes staring at me. I froze, as he slowly shook his head.

I jerked back into my seat and slammed my elbow against the armrest. Pain vibrated into my pinky finger as I cradled my arm. Beside me, Frederick snickered away, but all I could think of was the man behind me.

He couldn’t have seen my shield, no one could, but that didn’t explain his look. It was like he was telling me to watch myself, to be careful. It didn’t make sense. It had to be something else, right? I scrubbed at my face with shaking hands, then realized my sleeve was still pulled up. I yanked it down over my oozing cut.

“Excuse me, looks like my seat is next to yours.”

I snapped my head up and blinked at an asian girl, her long black hair loose over a white linen blouse and yellow tank top. Oh god, how the hell was I going to sit beside someone after what I had just done?

I flinched away as Frederick made a move to poke my shoulder, “Hey, move already. You can’t expect her to crawl over your lap.”

“Sorry, excuse me,” I muttered as I hurried to my feet and out of her way, careful to keep from bumping into her. Frederick was completely fixated on the new passenger. “You’ll have to excuse her. She’s had a rough flight so far.”

She glanced up at me and I avoided her gaze, taking that moment to peek at the stranger from earlier. He had a book in his hands, but his eyes were on me. He nodded in what seemed like encouragement then went back to his book. Even more confused than before, I returned to my seat.

Frederick must have been turning on the charm, because the asian girl was looking disgusted and a bit exasperated.

“As interesting as your observations are about my seat mate, I really don’t care. This is a long flight, so please, if you have to speak, keep your derogatory opinions to yourself.”

The man spluttered for a few seconds, then choked out. “Look bitch, I can say what I want.”

“Sure, but that’s only going to make things worse for you. You aren’t as suave as you think you are and you won’t be seeing any action on this flight. Deal with it.”

“Shit, lady, what makes you so special?”

“The fact that I’m not going to put up with your slimy bullshit, that’s what. Now go ahead, complain to the stewardesses. I’m sure you’ve been pestering them all flight and they’ll be more than happy to speak to the captain about you.”

Frederick’s mouth hung open, but nothing came out. Smiling, she turned to me, “Hey, I’m Shiro.”

“Hazel,” I choked out. I was stunned and a little in awe. If only I could speak my mind like her, this flight would have been so much more relaxed.

“Is London your final destination,” Shiro asked, ignoring my awkwardness and the spluttering Frederick beside her.

“I’m heading to Oxford.”

“Awesome! Student?”

I nodded my head.

“Ohhh, you are going to have the time of your life. What’s your focus?”

“Archeology and Anthropology.”

“Blah, to dirty and dusty for me. Psychology’s my trick.”

I nodded my head again and tried to think of something to say. Seconds ticked by. My mind scrambled at anything psychology orientated, but too many hours spent avoiding human contact left me with a whole lot of nothing. The only thing I could think of were the dusty bits of history I got to play with at my job at the museum. Not exactly great material for the regular populace. An awkward silence spread between us and Shiro finally broke the tableau by pulling a magazine into her lap.

Disappointed in my failure, I followed suit with my headphones. The slow piano chord’s of Phillip Glass’s Metamorphosis filled my head and fit my mood perfectly. For the thousandth time I doubted myself about this whole endeavour. There were so many things that could wrong. The control I had on my shield was laughable and I still had many hours to go before I even reached the supposed safety of Oxford.

Fear can do many things. It can force you to hide in your parent’s basement afraid of the people around you or it can force you to make drastic decisions without considering the consequences. I had always dreamed of going to university and the day I realized I was stagnating, rotting, never to become anything but a forgotten nobody was the day I made the decision to go to Oxford. It would have been so much easier if the university had denied me, giving me permission to be a coward, but here I was, on a plane flight, terrified I was going to hurt someone with this damn shield of mine.

This was not the way I had seen my life playing out.

The inflight meal interrupted my spiralling thoughts. I slipped off my headphones and appraised what was attempting to be food. Flopped in a tray of red lumpy sauce was an overcooked slab of chicken. I poked at it, attempted to saw a piece off with my little plastic knife. All I did was slop sauce over the sides. I shoved it away and moved to the safety of jello.

“Afraid of flying?” asked Shiro.

I jerked, but somehow managed not to choke on my jello. I swallowed, tugging my shield back against my skin, thankful it had only slipped about an inch.

This was my chance. I had failed enough today and ignoring human interactions was getting me no where. I might as well dive right on in.

“It’s not the flying,” I said, deciding to be as truthful as possible. “It’s a kind of agoraphobia.”

“You’re doing pretty good considering you have to cut.”

I almost choked again. My eyes jerked to my arm and sure enough blood was evident as it seeped through my sleeve. Embarrassed, I hid it with my hand. “I hurt myself earlier today,” then I noticed the blood under my fingernails, so did Shiro .

“Don’t be ashamed. We all do what we need to, just to survive.”

“Tell that to my Dad,” I whispered, defeated. No point in hiding now.

“You can’t get mad at him. I’m sure it kills him that he can’t help you.”

I knew she was right, but understanding a parent’s protectiveness was one of the hardest things to do. I still didn’t understand it.

“Hey, hey, don’t look like that.”

I shrugged. How could I explain the complication that was my life?

“What you need is a distraction,” she said. “It’s time I shared with you the truth of Oxford. You thought you were entering a place of intelligence and properness. Hah, only on the surface…”

Somehow, Shiro was right, a distraction was just what I needed. For the first time since that summer before grade eight, I laughed with a stranger; the honest, tear inducing laughter that only comes from pure enjoyment. My shield slipped into slumber and the hours passed by without notice.

Before I knew it, we were taxing into London and my lightheartedness evaporated. The next leg of this journey was going to be even harder. Just the thought of taking the underground made my skin singe with apprehension. This was not going to go well.

Finally, the plane stopped moving and the seatbelt light went out. People erupted from their seats to gather carry-ons, jackets and other paraphernalia. My own bag was already clutched in my lap, knuckles white. Beside me, Shiro was chattering away, but I couldn’t comprehend any of it. I had a gauntlet to run, one of many today and I had no idea how I was going to accomplish it.

Within minutes, the aisle was full of passengers. Shiro and Frederick were standing, waiting on me to get up, but I couldn’t move. Fear clogged my throat, froze my legs. I knew if I stepped into that aisle my shield would slam out, creating a domino of people.

Anger flashed through me. I had told myself that I would no longer be a slave to this stupid shield. If I let it continue to rule my life, I’d never get to Oxford. Hell, I’d never get on a plane again and never return home to see my family.

Did I start this adventure just so I could give up when it got hard? No, but god damn it, that didn’t change the fact that my shield was about to ruin everything.

A hand wrapped around my own and I nearly jumped out of my skin. The contact froze my shield. A handy after effect of throwing a high school bully through a window. Through shame or fear, my shield no longer worked whenever there was physical contact with another person. Thank god for that or my shield would have created more than a domino effect. Instead, it buzzed angrily against my skin, but unable to leap away and encompass me.

“Hazel, talk to me.”

I turned to Shiro, who was now sitting down and I gave her a shaky smile. “It’s okay, It’s past.”

“About fucking time,” interrupted Frederick. “Now move it, I’ve got another plane to catch.”

Shiro swivelled towards him. “The doors aren’t even open yet. Sit. Back. Down.”

Up ahead there was a ker-chunk and hiss as the doors opened.

“Perfect timing,” sneered Frederick.

Shiro’s fingers loosened on mine as she returned to her feet. This was about to get nasty. I noticed beside me an empty space had grown in the aisle and a quick backward glance explained why. The bearded man had blocked traffic as he crammed spilled books back into his duffel bag. His eyes met mine and he made a subtle shooing gesture.

The opportunity wasn’t going to get any better. I grabbed Shiro as I stood up and pulled her with me when I stepped into the aisle.

Shiro squeaked and stumbled into me, “Hey, I’m not done with him yet.”

“I know, but I really need off this plane. Now,” I said, pulling her along behind me.

“Alright,” huffed Shiro.

I hurried the rest of the way to the entrance, my grip never lessening on Shiro’s hand. I knew I was blatantly using her kindness, but she was right, you do what you have to for self preservation.

“I know he’s not worth it,” continued Shiro, “but man, he was being a severe asshat. I’d have punched him, if I knew how.”

We’d caught up with the disembarking passengers at this point and our escape descended into a sudden crawl. My shoulder blades itched and I turned, certain there was an old friend behind me, even though I didn’t have any. Instead, it was the bearded man.

I snapped forward again suddenly unnerved. He had been staring right at me and the feeling hadn’t gone away. Who was this guy? Someone like me?

Thankfully, the line was moving and I lurched forward with it. I nodded past the stewardesses and escaped down the covered ramp. As we stepped into the airport, I kept a firm grip on Shiro’s hand and rushed through. I wanted out of the building and away from that man, but I didn’t get very far. My escape was halted in another line-up. I had forgotten about the passport check.

I looked behind me and found, to my relief, that I couldn’t see the stranger amongst the wave of approaching people. That relief faltered as I realized all those people were going to line up behind me. I turned back around and tried to focus on calm and just getting through all these stupid procedures, that’s when I noticed Shiro staring at me.

***

“Agoraphobia, huh. I think there’s more to it than that.” She tugged on her hand and I reluctantly let go of it. My shield lurched back into wakefulness, but stayed against my skin.

“It’s complicated,” I whispered, rubbing at the shield’s tingle along my arms.

“It always is. I’m impressed you made it this far. Bodes well.”

I snorted. “I’m not at Oxford yet. I still have no idea how I’m going to manage the underground.”

“Just like you did on the airplane, one minute at a time.”

This time I laughed, bitter and off sounding. “By the time I get to Oxford, the passengers will be screaming to get off.”

“It won’t be that bad. I’ll talk them down if I have to.” I must have looked surprised. “You’d think I’d leave you alone after all this, that’s not what friends do?”

“Friends.”

“Yes, friends. I don’t let just anybody haul me pellmell through the airport. I’m surprised security didn’t tackle us.”

I didn’t get a chance to respond as I was being beckoned forward as I was next in line. I walked away from the security of Shiro and with shaking hand laid my crisp passport on the counter. Moments later I was walking away, passport stowed and completely bewildered at how easy that had been.

I paused at the exit and turned back to see Shiro walking up to a booth. I hesitated, thought of waiting for her, but after a second, turned away and headed towards the luggage pickup. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t rely on Shiro to always be there. She was my friend, not keeper. Just knowing Shiro was minutes behind me, made leaving easier.

I followed the signs and other passengers and found myself in a wide open space with people milling impatiently around the various luggage carousels. Taking a deep breath and a firm grip on my shield, I stepped further into the room and began the search for my carousel. Minutes later, I stood near it at the outskirts of the waiting passengers. I watched the frenzy as luggage spilled onto the conveyer belt.

Moments later, I felt someone approaching. I turned, a smile warm on my lips, certain it was Shiro. It faltered when I saw it was the stranger from the plane. Frantically, I searched behind him, but I still couldn’t see her. He stopped a couple feet from me, his bag slung over his shoulder, forearms folded across his chest. I tore my gaze from his arms and found his brilliant blue eyes boring into me.

“You need to be more careful,” he said in a quiet voice.

My shield clawed at my skin. “Who the hell are you?”

He blinked. “Malcolm.”

“Why do you keep following me?”

“You need help.”

“Like hell I do. I’m doing just fine on my own.”

“No, you’re not.”

Everything about him screamed friendship and it compelled me to say yes, but I kept my lips clamped over the words. I had to admit he was handsome, but that wasn’t enough to explain why I wanted to trust him.

I took a step back, then another. “Stay away from me.”

“You’re a loose canon with no control over your magic. Someone has to keep watch over you.”

At the word magic, my shield threatened to explode away from me. I dug my fingernails into my palms, a thousand thoughts clambered in my head. How could he possibly know? This was getting out of hand. I was losing focus, losing that very control he spoke of. I had to get away.

“What’s going on?” interrupted Shiro as she appeared beside me. She stared hard at Malcolm. “Look buddy, I don’t see a loser magnet hanging around her neck, so piss off.”

Malcolm flicked a short glance at Shiro, then returned his gaze back to me. “I will be watching.” He turned and disappeared into the crowd around the carousel.

“You sure do attract the good ones,” said Shiro wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “Was I mistaken about the magnet?”

“Wouldn’t know,” I mumbled, “been hiding in my parent’s basement for too long.”

“That would be your magnet, sweetie.” She stepped back and took my hand. “Come on, let’s get you out of here. I’ll show you a bit of London before we head to Oxford, maybe even pour a beer into you.”

The carousel had been running long enough for the majority of people to have collected their bags, Malcolm amongst them. We gathered our luggage and headed towards the exit, but I couldn’t shake his voice out of my head.

Shiro and I walked down the London street, the sun beating on our backs, purchases swinging from our hands. Our pace was slow, Shiro giving me time to gawk at the building architecture all around me. Everywhere I turned there were carved arches and fancy facades pulling at my attention. My favourites were the embellishments at the base of pillars and around windows. You never knew when you’d find a face staring at you from out of the stonework.

Our last stop had been a pub where Shiro introduced me to steak and mushroom pie and my first beer. Desperate to calm my nerves I had downed the beer faster than I should have and it had gone straight to my head. Fascinated with its effects, I finished a second. It was perfect. It hid my shield behind a sheen of indifference, making it easier to walk through the crowds of London.

I glanced over at Shiro and my smile grew larger. Having her around gave me room to breath, to assess and reassess. I couldn’t help but look at her with envy. She was so confidant, boisterous and happy, everything I dreamed of being.

Shiro caught me staring and she playfully nudged me with her shoulder. “If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you were sweet on me.”

I laughed with her, feeling more free than I had ever felt before, “You’ve known me less than a day.”

“Yes, but that’s long enough for me to see you prefer boys, especially that Malcolm. At least, before he got all freaky.”

I blushed even though my gut clenched in apprehension. Dad was the only other person I knew who had magic, at least before today. But here was this stranger, appearing out of nowhere and catching me with my haphazard control.

My gut clenched harder. I was assuming he had magic, but what if he didn’t? What if he was a scientist or government agent? I know, too much TV, but what else do you do when you can’t be around people.

“Don’t worry,” said Shiro. “We’ll find you someone at Oxford, someone hot and sexy, who you can’t keep your hands off of.”

I pulled myself back to the moment. “I’m not going to have time for any of that,”

“Oh, yes you will. I’ll make sure of it. It’s the only way to relax from Oxford stress.”

She laughed again as my blush deepened. We stepped into the expanse of Piccadilly Circus and my step faltered. My eyes didn’t see the monument only the crowd around it. The people laughed and smiled, moving here and there with the ignorant and erratic movements that only a tourist can make.

Shiro noticed my hesitance and her hand tightened around mine. She led me around the monument until we stopped at the side of the underground entrance. She stared at me assessingly.

“Do we need to sit and have another beer?”

I took a deep breath and shook my head. “I’m already a little drunk, another beer would only make me unmanageable in a different sense. Just give me a moment to gather myself.”

I let go of Shiro’s hand and stepped over to the black rail that skirted the opening to the underground. I shuttered my eyes to bare slits and inspected my shield. Surprisingly, it rested quietly, only a slight tingle along my skin. I opened my eyes and leaned against the fence feeling wind from the stairwell tangle my curls back. My shield stayed quiet, even when I noticed the rumble of an approaching train.

Satisfied, I turned back to Shiro to find she was holding a small bag in her hand. “For you,” she said.

I stepped away from the fence and tentatively took it. I emptied it into my hand and found a jade butterfly pendant on a red knotted cord. I ran a finger over the smooth stone. “It’s beautiful.”

Shiro took the necklace from my hand and stepped around me. I lifted my thick brown hair giving her room to clasp it around my neck. The butterfly’s cool weight nestled against my skin.

“Why?” I asked, turning around to face..

Shiro shrugged, looking past me at something only she could see. “I know what it’s like to be alone, tackling something bigger than you can handle.”

She pulled her gaze back to me. “It’s also something my grandma would have done. She believed jade could fix almost anything, but I picked it out because the butterfly reminded me of a story she used to tell about a handsome young man that chased a butterfly and instead found a beautiful woman.”

“I’m going to need more than a butterfly pendant to catch a man.”

“You need to look in the mirror again. It’s hard not to notice you.”

I stared at her trying to figure the undertone in her voice. I couldn’t tell if it was envy or something else. She had it wrong anyways. I wasn’t pretty. My complexion and colouring came from the Italian bloodlines of my father while my mother added her Scandinavian blue eyes. It wasn’t the most ideal of combinations and other than my eyes, everything else about me was plain.

She held out her hand. “Are you ready for the underground?”

“I can’t afford to let myself be otherwise.” I said accepting the comfort of her hand.

Shiro led me down the stairs into the underground and before I knew it we were standing on the platform. Thankfully, it wasn’t too crowded yet, as we were still a couple hours away from rush hour.

My shield was more awake than it had been above ground, but it didn’t feel like it was going to jump away any second. I eased back against the wall, Shiro’s hand comfortable in mine.

It wasn’t long before I heard the distinct rumblings of an approaching train. It swept up, frighteningly fast, tensing my shield even more. The spark of my shield shimmered along my skin, but for the first time, it didn’t try to get away, maybe I was getting the hang of this. The train hissed to a stop, bells chiming, muffled voice over the speakers. Finally, the doors whooshed open and people spilled out.

Shiro patiently hung back with me and we waited until people started boarding before we did the same. As Shiro stepped onto the train, my eyes were drawn to the sign before my feet, ‘mind the gap’. Like a magnet, my eyes fixated on the darkness between train and platform. I hesitated a second too long and Shiro’s hand slipped free of mine.

A person nudged past me and the chime sounded warning of door closure. I looked up to see Shiro being pushed back as several more people hurried onto the train.

One step, that’s all that was needed, but the gap between platform and train was suddenly a barrier and it had nothing to do with my shield. An irrational fear of the darkness clutched my throat and my shield sparked warning.

A dark hand slid under mine, suppressing my shield. “That first step can be killer,” his accent was exotic, british mixed with something else. I glanced up to find a business man beside me, a red and black paisley tie accenting his dark suit. He was beautiful with coffee colored skin and a five o’clock shadow gracing his face.

He stepped around me onto the train and gave my hand a gentle tug. I stumbled after him just in time for the doors to swoosh behind me. Shiro was immediately at my side.

“Thank you,” I said, out of breath, “That gap…”

He smiled, “It happens more often than you would think.” He pulled his hand free of mine and stepped away, weaving his way to the back of the train. I pulled my gaze from his receding back. This was getting ridiculous. It was like Shiro had opened the flood gates to my loneliness and now any man that paid attention to me was irresistible.

I pulled my attention away from my confused gnarl of emotions. My eyes drifted to the shut doors. The gap could no longer be seen and suddenly I felt foolish. Of all the things that had happened since leaving Vancouver, I never expected to fall apart at an imagined shadow.

Shiro pulled me away from the doors. I took a step to follow but a flash of movement stopped me. There was a man running down the platform. As the train pulled past him, I saw it was Malcolm. Uneasily, I watched him slow to a stop, our eyes meeting for a second before the train pulled into the tunnel.

Rattled, I numbly let Shiro guide me away from the door, towards a pair of seats. I hadn’t seen Malcolm since the airport and I had just been thinking that his threat had been all talk. That eye contact said otherwise, he had been pissed that I had gotten away from him.

“I’m sorry,” interrupted Shiro, misinterpreting my agitation as we sat down. “I didn’t mean to leave you behind.”

I took a deep breath trying to calm my shivers. “It’s okay. That one was completely my fault. You can’t be expected to be there for everything.”

“But, I should have been, I was right beside you.” Shiro slid her hand over mine and my tension immediately came down a notch. She was exactly what I needed, so calm and, just, there for me. It had been so long since I’d had a friend that I’d forgotten how good it felt.

As the train clattered down the tracks, my thoughts kept turning to Malcolm. Nothing about him made sense and neither did the way I reacted to him. He scared me and attracted me all at the same time. There were so many reasons for that confusion that it made my head spin. He was handsome and sure of himself, but somehow, he knew the one secret that could kill me if the wrong people knew about it. That knowledge terrified me, but somehow, I felt safe when he was around. I was already exhausted by having to deal with my irritated shield, but to have to deal with the emotional conflict he brought up was too much.

To pull my thoughts away from Malcolm, I focused on the people around me. Across the aisle sat a young couple, newly in love. Their eyes constantly flicked to each other, him smiling, her giggling. Further down, was an older couple. The husband’s hand, just beginning to show the signs of age rested on her knee, his thumb caressing back and forth, the comfort of many years together.

The train bumped and jarred as it rounded a bend and it pulled my eyes away from the couples. No one seemed worried by the sudden movement of the train, except for a young mother, but only because it had woken her infant. The child cried sleepily and the mother cooed back. Exhaustion painted her with dishevelled hair and bags under her eyes, but none of it tainted the pure joy that radiated from her as she watched her child ease back into sleep.

I eased my neck back and forth, muscles suddenly tight. That’s when I noticed the elderly man. He was sitting a couple seats down from me, dressed in a tweed suit, a jaunty hat over his balding head. I watched with a pang of sorrow as he twisted his wedding band. Somehow, I knew he spent his nights alone.

Unable to resist, my eyes searched the back of the train. I may not like the effect the businessman had on me, but I wanted to stare from afar, see if he still had the same pull. I couldn’t find him. I checked the whole train, but he was no where. Could he have possibly moved to a different car?

A flicker of shadow distracted me. I looked over at the window beside the older couple. A flick of something, maybe a cloth, slapped at the window. It tumbled away into the darkness leaving an impression of a red cloth. My unease deepened.

“Did you see that?” I asked Shiro.

“What,” she said, looking the wrong way.”

“No, down there, something hit the window.”

“I didn’t see anything. It was probably just garbage.”

“I guess.” I looked back to the window and the flickering lights along the tunnel wall. There was nothing wrong, but I couldn’t explain the disquiet that set me on edge.

The train progressed through it’s stops, but I couldn’t focus on people watching anymore. Finally, the train pulled into Paddington station and we stood up to disembark. Outside the windows, I could see people waiting to get on and my stomach clenched knowing I had to step into that crowd. I held tight to Shiro’s hand and gritted my teeth as my shield arced along my skin.

The doors swooshed open and passengers immediately rushed through. Whether it was from my nameless apprehension or fear of the upcoming gap, I took the initiative. I was not going to let fear stop me again. Holding tight to Shiro’s hand, I glued my eyes to the far wall and refused to look down at the gap as I stepped off the train. Nothing happened, nothing reached up from the darkness to grab me.

Now that I was off the train, I floundered. There were too many people all rushing and jostling towards the exit. I would hurt someone if I attempted it.

I pushed against the flow of people, desperate for the emptiness that awaited me at the end of the platform. I knew my shield wouldn’t flare out while I held Shiro’s hand, but there was always the chance she’d let go. Finally, the people were behind us and I stopped, my back to the wall.

“What a stupid, stupid idea, this was.” I said.

“Would it really have been better if you had stayed at home?” asked Shiro.

I shook my head. “No, but it would have been safer.”

“Really, for who?”

I wanted to bite my tongue. I shouldn’t have said that. Just because we were friends, didn’t mean I could share everything with her. “Me,” I said, hurriedly. “There are going to be crowds everywhere I go, so much potential for me wigging out.”

Shiro was watching me and I could tell she didn’t buy the lie. I closed my eyes and hoped that’d be enough to postpone the questions. Surprisingly, she kept her peace and I listened to the rattle of the train as it departed the station.

Sometime later, a tug on my hand forced my eyes open and I realized I was still holding Shiro’s hand. Reluctantly, I let go, mentally poised to dive for my shield if it jumped away from me. All it did was spark along my skin. Maybe this constant stress was good for my control, either that or I was getting too tired for the shield to be a problem.

Shiro stepped away, flexing her hand and shaking it out. “By the time we get to Oxford, I’m going to need physio for my hand.”

“God, I’m sorry. I forget sometimes how hard I can hold. You’ve been such a help and here I am using you at every turn.”

Shiro grinned at me wickedly, “What makes you think I’m not softening you up so you fall into my arms.” My jaw must have dropped, because she laughed. “If you could only see your face. I know you’re straight, but it’s so easy to tease you.”

Relief and a tiny bit of regret washed over me. I’d be the first to admit to how lonely I was, but I just wanted to get to Oxford. Maybe then I’d let down my guard long enough to invite someone in, but I’d have to learn more control first.

Overhead the lights flickered. I pushed away from the wall and checked down the platform, towards the exit. The lights down there were steady, but above me they kept flickering. I was just looking up when they exploded, sparks cascading along the ceiling and glass showering down on Shiro and I.

My shield jumped from my control and formed its impenetrable barrier, the darkness suddenly shimmering from the shield. Glass stopped falling on me, but I could still hear it tinkling as it fell to the ground. For a second, I was thankful for the darkness, but then Shiro screamed. I spun around and immediately noticed a darker shadow coiling around my shield and arcing towards Shiro.

Her hands were outstretched, attempting to ward off the moving darkness. It snaked upwards, vaguely man-like as strange appendages streamed towards her. The shadow around me, pushed and probed against my shield, creating a strange pressure in my mind, like fingers pressing deep into my scalp.

I couldn’t help but wonder if this was one of my own kind and if this was what I would become. Was this what Malcolm was like? Was this Malcolm?

Time slowed as two ash coloured eyes opened in the darkness and stared into mine, then it smiled, dark lips formed of twisting black and grey. Never had I imagined something as terrifying as this thing. All the hair on my body was standing and a scream sat frozen in my throat. Finally, the formless head turned away, setting me free.

Shiro’s screams faltered.

Paralyzed, I watched the shadow slip away from my shield towards Shiro. She looked as terrified as me, but not immobile. Shiro took a step one way and when the shadow moved to block her, she feinted the other way. There was a blur in the darkness and for a second I couldn’t see anything, then Shiro stepped into view, her fingers touching her chest. She turned as the darkness twisted around her, her bloody fingers splayed towards me. Blood seeped through the tears in her yellow tank top, drip, dripping to the glass covered platform. Rib bones glistened beneath sliced flesh and torn muscle.

I reached for her as she stumbled towards me, forgetting about my shield. Shiro crumpled against it, then stumbled backwards in confusion. Her feet slipped and suddenly she was falling onto the tracks. The shadow dove towards Shiro, wrapping around her, obscuring her from sight. A tendril of shadow flicked towards me and slid along my shield, slow like a caress. I shuddered backwards and the tendril slipped away, disappearing into the darkness of the subway.

After that, numbness was all I knew, all I felt. My vision swam, losing focus in the flickering light and shadows. Deep in my mind, a voice was screaming, telling me to run, get away, hide. Instead, I stared.

I took a few shaky steps forward in an attempt to follow, but instead, crashed to my knees, the shards of glass doing nothing to dissuade my shield. I watched helplessly as the blackness carried Shiro into the pitch black of the subway tube.

The sudden loss of Shiro was incomprehensible. My hand burned with the memory of her touch, like a phantom against my skin. That very same hand drifted up to the butterfly around my neck and clutched it hard, too hard. She wasn’t coming back.

I would have stared into the darkness for hours if it hadn’t been for the sudden buzz along my skin and the taste of ozone along my tongue. I flinched to my feet, but it was too late. Sprawled along the ground behind me was the man my shield had knocked away. His blue shirt was covered with an orange high-visibility vest and as he leaned over to grab his radio, I saw the underground symbol on his arm. He was a tube worker.

“What the hell happened there?” he said, slowly getting to his feet, a hand pressed against his greying temple.

“I hit you,” I blurted out. Dad always said people were easily fooled, you just had to provide a convincing enough lie. “I thought it had come back to finish me off.”

“Sorry, what, who?” He rubbed at his temple harder as he walked towards me.

I shuffled backwards, afraid my shield was going to throw him again. As soon as I felt the cold of the wall, I let my legs collapse. I sat down hard, glass crunching under my weight.

When he saw me hit the ground, he scrambled at his radio. I vaguely heard him call for paramedics, but I was more concerned at stopping my shield. Hurriedly, I shoved my hands along the glass encrusted floor, feeling shards slice and sliver into my skin. I shivered as I closed my hands around the glass, the pain finally strong enough to subdue my shield.

“Help is on the way,” he said, kneeling in front of me. “Can you tell me what happened? People said there was an explosion down here.”

I pointed towards the tunnel. “Something attacked us, used the dark to hide.”

The color drained from his face. “Where’s the other person? On the tracks?” He jumped up and rushed to the platform edge and looked up and down the line.”

“Shiro, down the tunnel.” I said at his back. “It took her when it couldn’t get at me.”

He pulled a flashlight from his belt, clicking it on and flashing it into the tunnel. The light did nothing to illuminate the forbidding space. He took a step closer to the opening, then another. It was too much for me.

I lurched onto my knees, “God, no! What are you doing?” The hysteria clawed up my throat, my momentary calm fleeing me. “It could still be there. Get away from there. Don’t make it come back.”

He pivoted towards me, his back to the tunnel, but he didn’t move, just stared at me like I was crazy. I wanted to scream in frustration and fear. I kept waiting for the shadows to come alive and pull him off the platform.

Instead, his eyes flicked away from me and I turned my head to see a pair of transit police jogging towards us. With relief, I heard the tube worker moving away from the tunnel entrance. He met them half way and they talked in hushed tones with much pointing and hand waving. They kept glancing at me and I couldn’t tell if it was wariness or pity that I saw on their faces.

Both officers were middle-aged and had an air of experience and confidence around them. Within minutes one of the pair stepped away from the worker and approached. He squatted down in front of me, eyeing the blood that was splattered everywhere.

“Can you tell me what happened?”

I blinked, scrambling at words that didn’t sound insane. I couldn’t tell them a shadow came and scooped Shiro away.

“Did someone attack you?” he prompted.

I nodded. “And Shiro. It took Shiro.” I gulped in a breath. “It was really dark, hard to see. She screamed and there was blood.” My words were coming too fast, tripping over each other, but there was nothing I could do about it, talking about it gave it reality and with it came panic.

I closed my eyes and forced more words out. “It cut her, across the chest, through skin, flesh. I could see bone. It pulled her onto the tracks. My god, she kept screaming. I was screaming. It pulled her into the darkness and I couldn’t see it.”

“Who was it, man or woman? Can you give me a description?”

Again, I floundered. I had no idea what that thing was. My mind shied away from any possibility that it might be something other. Either way, he needed a non-crazy answer.

“I think it was a man, dark skin, maybe grey eyes,” I said trying to translate what I saw into some kind of descriptor.

“How tall? What kind of build?” The other officer had showed up at this point.

“I…I don’t know, things got strange. Those are the only details I remember.”

“Okay,” frowned the first officer. “I need a description of your friend.”

Tears finally welled up and my vision blurred. “Shiro, she’s asian, long black hair to mid-back, dark eyes, dimples when she smiles and a sashaying lilt when she walks…”

“Height, build,” he interrupted.

I choked back a sob, “Shorter than me by maybe a few inches and athletic.”

“Okay, miss, I’ll need you to stay on the scene until the paramedics and Inspector arrives.” He turned away and joined his partner at the edge of the platform where he was conferring with the tube worker.

When the officers jumped down onto the tracks, I jumped to my feet, but caught myself before I moved. I fisted my bloody hands. There was nothing I could do. I could scream danger until I was blue in the face, but I saw the way they had looked at me. They thought I was crazy and didn’t trust a word I said.

A hand touched my arm and I leapt back with a strangled scream. My eyes went straight to the large black man, his hands outstretched. I vaguely saw the other paramedic before my vision narrowed. Spots floated before my eyes and I fought against the dizziness. All I could see was his blackness and I was certain if I passed out the shadow would take me away.

The paramedic’s mouth moved and I flinched, expecting sharp fangs. Dizziness lessened when all I saw were plain ordinary teeth. The blood pounding in my ears lessened and I could finally hear what he was saying.

“…Take you to the hospital, if you prefer?”

I blinked, looked from the black paramedic to the other fellow, a thin squat man with an Irish complexion. “No,” I stuttered, “that would be worse,” I shuddered. “Too many people,” my voice trailed away, unable to explain more.

The shaking in my body finally reached its breaking point and I felt my legs collapse. I had no energy left to even windmill my arms. I sagged into the fall knowing how much my cut hands were going to hate their reacquaintence with the glass covered floor.

My hands never touched the ground. The black paramedic leaped forward as soon as I started to fall. His arms wrapped around me, kept me from falling, but it was too much, too close, too soon. I couldn’t stop the terrified whimper. I clenched my eyes shut and held myself frozen against him. Seconds ticked by and I realized the arms around me were solid, not insubstantial like the shadows. I opened my eyes and looked up. The paramedic was staring down and I could see he was waiting for me to start screaming and thrashing. I was trying to decide if I was going to lose it as well. Common sense prevailed. He was no more shadow than I was.

“Thanks,” I said into his high-vis vest.

He smiled in return. “Let’s get you off the platform and get your hands looked after.

Thirty minutes and a sedative later, the black man, Phillip, was finishing the last of the 10 stitches in my hands. We were in the hall outside the platform entrance, away from the bustle of the transit police and scene investigators. I was thankful to no longer be staring at the darkness of the tunnel, waiting for it to come alive, but more importantly I was thankful for the sedative. It kept the pain and horror tucked away and kept my shield muffled.

I almost giggled, so this was what it felt like to be normal.

An official looking man in a well-worn suit, stopped just behind Phillip, eyes on me. “You are the woman from the attack on the platform?”

“Yes. Hazel Morgan,” I clarified.

“I’m Inspector Calen. Will you be much longer here?”

I looked at Phillip. He was frowning as he bandaged my hands. “Just need a couple more minutes and she’s all yours,” he said.

“Good, since you’re almost done, I’ll start now.” He turned to me, ignoring the jerk from Phillip.

“Tell me what happened, including all details, no matter how minor you think they are.”

I may be in a foreign land, but even I could see he was being rude, but I was tired, too tired to start a fight with someone who was, in his own way, trying to help. I explained it all, again thankful for the sedative keeping me calm instead of the hysteria from earlier. I clarified whenever he asked, but I could see he was getting frustrated and his opinion of me had slipped from victim to possible drug addict, just like the other’s had.

At this point the Inspector’s radio interrupted us. The voice was garbled, but I could still make it out. “We’ve found her, bring the paramedics.”

“Copy that.” The inspector stepped back and motioned over an officer. “She’s not to leave yet,” he said pointing at me. He didn’t spare me another glance, but started towards the southbound exit. Phillip had already gathered his gear and with a worried look at me, left to join him and the other paramedic.

The officer appointed as babysitter, glanced at me, then returned to the bottom of the escalators at the end of the hall. I leaned back on the bench, thankful to be ignored. My thoughts were on Shiro and I didn’t want a stranger watching me fall apart.

I was hoping the call for paramedics was a good sign, but I couldn’t shake the image of her chest and the cut across it. How could anyone survive something like that?

The shuffle of feet along the tiled floor snapped my head up. My first thought was of the paramedics, but when I looked I found the southbound exit empty. The northbound wasn’t. Standing against the wall, hidden from everyone’s view but mine was Malcolm.

He stared at me, a couple seconds too long, then motioned me towards him. My thoughts warred with me. For some stupid reason, I was relieved to see him, but I couldn’t help noticing that he was hiding. Why? Why would he be avoiding the police. The sedative wasn’t enough to quieten the curiosity and after a quick look to confirm my babysitter was busy chatting to another officer, I got up.

“What happened?” he whispered, when I was close enough.

I leaned against the corner of the wall, my shoulders hunched to make it look like I was hiding my tears, which wasn’t that far from the truth.

“Did you slip again?” he continued. “Did you push someone onto the tracks?”

“No,” I snapped, through the edge of my tears. I opened my mouth several times, but suddenly found it too hard to say. “Shiro,” was all I could manage.

“Who?”

“My friend,” I choked out, the anger finally propelling the words, “the one from on the plane. The one that actually tried to help me, while you just threatened.”

He ignored my anger. “What happened?”

“She was attacked.” I bit out the words.

“Pickpocket?”

“No, this was…different.” I waved my hand back and forth between him and I. “More related to our…thing.”

“Magic?”

I nodded. It sounded too silly to say it aloud.

The echo of voices and clatter of feet from the southbound exit interrupted us and I turned around. A group was coming out, Inspector Calen leading the way, giving commands to the policemen around him, while behind were the paramedics and only the paramedics.

The Inspector ignored me as he prepared to walk by.

I stepped forward, blocking his path. “Where’s Shiro? What happened?”

He stopped, frowning down his nose at me. “She didn’t survive. The coroner is on his way.”

I staggered back, like he had punched me. My hope for Shiro surviving had been slim, but to hear it put so bluntly was beyond comprehension.

He moved to step past me, but stopped, ignoring my silent tears. “Are you sure there was no one following you?”

I stared at him, trying to assimilate both Shiro’s death and what he had just asked. Nothing in my head was processing properly. Someone stepped up beside me and for a second, I thought it was Malcolm, until I turned. There was no mistaking the large solid form of Phillip.

“I think you should sit down,” he said. His voice brought me back into focus and I shook my head at him. I looked over my shoulder at Malcolm, but found the hall empty. I frowned, puzzled. He must have retreated when the police returned.

I turned back to Inspector Calen and almost mentioned Malcolm, but decided against it just as I opened my mouth. “No,” was all I said.

The Inspector nodded, “I didn’t think so. This has the feel of a random, impulsive attack, from someone who was on the train with you. Did you see anyone behaving strangely.”

I shook my head, but described everyone I had seen.

He looked at me strangely. “That’s rather detailed.”

I shrugged, embarrassed. “I don’t get out that often and people watching is a novelty.”

“Well, either way, we’re scouring the scene for clues and we should be able to get his face from the camera’s.” He pulled out a card from his shirt pocket, handing it to me. “If you think of anything, give me a call.”

I clumsily took it with my bandaged hands. “Now what?”

“You’re free to go.”

“Go? I asked, stunned.

“Yes, just don’t leave Oxford when you get there. We’ll contact you if we have any more questions.” He was already turning away.

Anger swept over me. He hadn’t listened to a single thing I had said. “You expect me to just leave and get on a train after seeing my friend killed.” The inspector stopped, stared at me. “I can’t go out there alone. For all we know, that thing will be coming after me next.”

“I highly doubt that. Like I said earlier, this was an unorganized attack. He’s long gone, probably hiding somewhere.”

“So you’re just telling me to suck it up, get on that train and who cares if I’m scared shitless.”

His face flushed red and he snapped his shoulders back. “I am not your caretaker,” he snapped.

“No shit, but you could at least have some fucking compassion.” I pushed past him and snagged my backpack from the far wall, hissing as I jarred my stitches. My whole body was shaking, anger pushing past and eating at the sedative.

I had no idea what to think or what to do. I just wanted to get away. I stalked out of the corridor and up the moving escalator. Up top, I ducked under the yellow tape. There were people milling about as the other tunnels were still open and they all stared at me. I knew I was a sight with bandaged hands and clothes splattered with blood. With all eyes on me, I just wanted to disappear, but I had no where to go.

My anger was a blessing as it kept my feet moving and my head high. I pushed up another flight of stairs and emerged into the central hub of the train station. It was an enormous expanse that housed twelve sets of train tracks. Overhead, in the arched ceiling was a long row of skylights that exposed the cobalt blue of approaching night. It was also deep with shadow. I yanked my eyes away, not wanting to see what may be hiding above.

Shoulders hunched, I made it a few steps, before coming to another halt. With Shiro I had felt safe, but now I felt stripped, raw and exposed.

The police had disregarded everything I’d said and there was nothing I could do about it. There was no way I could share my secret and after what Malcolm had said about there being others, I was no longer protecting just myself.

I was desperately alone but standing here wasn’t going to solve anything. It was time to go to Oxford.

My anger evaporated, replaced by a grim determination. I pushed forward and weaved my way through the fluid crowd of passengers. My shield stayed quiet, a condition of pain, sedative and exhaustion. I endured the stares and retrieved my suitcase from the luggage center. I had twenty minutes until the train came and there was no way I was going to wait alone on the platform. I walked back through the train station and stopped at the wide open entrance I had passed earlier. It opened onto an access road and the blue flashing lights of the yellow ambulance painted the walls along the road.

The fresh air pulled me forward, beckoned me. It wasn’t full dark and even though he pissed me off, the Inspector was probably right. The shadow was long gone. My feet followed my thoughts and before I knew it I had stepped past the ambulance.

I took in slow deep breaths, relishing the relatively fresh air. I just wanted a moment of quiet before entering another train full of people. I shoved all thoughts and fears away and just stared into the never ending sky as pigeons and airplanes criss crossed above me.

My attempt at relaxation didn’t last. Staring at the sky can cause an awful crick in the neck. I rolled my head around and caught myself just before kneading at shoulder muscles with my bandaged hands.

I turned to grab my suitcase and froze. Across the access road, leaning in a shadowed doorway was Malcolm. A chill shivered up my arms. How long had he been watching me? I kept my eyes on him and fumbled for the tall handle of my suitcase. I didn’t care that he probably had answers to all the crazy stuff going on. He scared me. He didn’t act like normal people should. Hell, neither did I, but it wasn’t enough for me to stick around.

As soon as I took a step back towards the train station he stepped out of the alcove. It was too much for me. I dropped eye contact and ran. It was an awkward run, with my bandaged hand trying to pull my suitcase on tiny wheels. I didn’t make it far, but it had nothing to do with Malcolm. I scrambled around the ambulance and collided with something solid. There was the crash and clatter of something dropped and the crinkle of stiff fabric. My terror instantly focused on the yellow of the vest and then evaporated. Phillip’s unmistakeable cologne and antiseptic surrounded me.

“Who you running from? Is he back?”

I could feel Phillip craning his head over mine as he looked all around. I twisted in his arms and looked behind me. Nothing but staring strangers. The dark entryway was empty and Malcolm was gone. Again.

“It’s nothing.” I couldn’t keep the quiver out of my voice.

He turned me around. “I don’t buy it.”

I shrugged helplessly. “There’s no one there.”

The other paramedic, Chris, stepped into view. “I’ll go take a look.” He disappeared around the back of the ambulance.

Phillip stepped back from me and opened the side door of the ambulance. “You might as well sit down while we wait.”

“This isn’t necessary,” I said, not moving. “I’m just jumpy. Look, I’ll be fine once I get on the train.” I didn’t believe a word I said, but I wanted to get out of here. I wanted this nightmare to end. This was supposed to be the beginning of a my new life.

“I don’t believe you.”

“What,” I stammered.

“You said you don’t like crowds, but you’re suddenly willing to get on a busy train.”

I swallowed hard, refusing to flinch at the word busy. “I just want to get out of here,” I whispered. “This was supposed to be my new start, going to Oxford, but everything’s gone wrong.” I wiped away a tear feeling it soak into my bandaged hand. I was exhausted, terrified and in shock over Shiro’s death. I didn’t have the strength to make him understand.

I bent down and awkwardly righted my luggage. “I appreciate your concern, I really do, you’ve been the only person who’s really cared and listened, aside from Shiro,” my voice trailed away for a second. I shoved the tears away for later. “I have to go,” I forced a smile at Phillip and gingerly wrapped a hand around my suitcase.

Phillip didn’t stop me as I walked away.

Tremors coursed up and down my arms. All I could think about was the train I had to board. He was right, the train was going to be busy. The platform would be crowded and I there’d be an organized rush to board. I didn’t want to be a part of it, but there was no other way to get to Oxford. I only hoped my shield didn’t overcome my fatigue. There’d be no way to regain control if that happened.

I was just stepping over the threshold into the train station when Phillip caught up with me.

I stopped and looked up at him. He looked nervous, awkward. Strange in a man that carried himself with such self assuredness.

“There’s another way you can get to Oxford,” he said.

“There’s no way I can afford a taxi.”

“No, no. Um…you see…My sister, she’s having a kid, due any day and she wanted me around to help out. I know it’s strange, why would she want a guy around, but that’s just the way she is. She trusts me. And I want to be there too. I don’t have any kids of my own and this is a big deal. Anyways, she lives in Oxford.” He stood there, his eyes flicking to me and away, obviously uncomfortable.

I had no idea what to say. I didn’t want to get on this train and logically it was a bad idea to accept a ride from a strange man, except I trusted him and he wasn’t really a stranger, not anymore. Really, how could he be after what he’d seen me go through. His caring was genuine.

I must have stood silent for too long. He took a step back hands up. “It’s okay, you don’t have to come. I was just throwing it out there, giving you an option. I guess it’d be pretty freaky accepting a ride from the likes of me. It’s probably for the best, if my boss found out, I’d be in deep trouble.” He turned around and started back towards the ambulance.

His walking away spurred my voice into action. “I’ll come,” I called out to him. “You’re right,” I said, when he turned back around. “I really don’t want to get on that train, but I don’t want to get you into trouble.”

“That’s nothing you need to worry about,” he said, walking back to me. “My boss would probably agree to it anyways once he heard what you’d been through and how that fool Inspector treated you, leaving you alone like that.” He eased the suitcase out of my hand.

Walking away from the train station, I suddenly felt better, relieved. There was no forgetting the horrors of today, but once I got to Oxford I could drown myself in the rigours of academia and just maybe erase that last image of Shiro pleading for me to save her.