City of Magic: The Complete Series Helen Harper (fox in socks read aloud TXT) 📖

that she would hiss or spit or, worse, lunge at the billionaire and tear the hazmat suit that he seemed so fond of. I should have given her more credit. Instead of appearing threatening, she let out a delicate yawn and blinked lazily. Even the gunless goons seemed cowed by her cuteness and their stern expressions behind their visors softened a little.

‘What is she?’ Fab asked, fascinated.

‘We call them shadow beasts.’ I shrugged. ‘I don’t know what they really are. They arrived here not long after the magic did.’

He dragged his gaze away from Lucy back towards me. ‘That’s what you call it then?’ he asked. ‘Magic?’

I moved Lucy under my arm and raised my free hand up towards the sky then I released another quick jet of magical fire. I was more controlled this time – and I was most definitely showing off. All six men leapt backwards and gaped. I grinned. ‘What would you call it?’

Fab didn’t answer for a long moment. At first I thought it was because he was stunned by my little show. It wasn’t until he spoke that I realised there was another reason.

‘Out there,’ he said, pointing towards the door, ‘we call it the Plague.’

Chapter Ten

I only had the one bicycle. I wheeled it along the road while we walked, a pre-arranged formation developing around Fab in order to keep him safe. It was remarkably slow going due to their cumbersome hazmat suits but I knew better than to suggest they take them off. Not now I’d been told that this city – my city – was plague-ridden.

I felt an almost overwhelming desire to strip off and point out to each and every one of these bastards that I wasn’t covered in suppurating boils and that I wasn’t disease-ridden. Except they already knew that. And they weren’t bastards, they just didn’t live in Manchester. They didn’t know the whole truth.

I decided grimly that I would show them what things were really like, that they should want to be here rather than running away to safety beyond the wall.

Unfortunately, walking through the empty streets with strangers in tow made me see what I’d become immune to. It was a long time since I’d paid attention to the burnt husks of old cars or to the skeleton-like buildings with their shattered windows.

Fabian Barrett might have given the impression that he was interested but relaxed, but his men looked horrified. It didn’t help that they jumped at every shadow and paused every few minutes to tap in annoyance at their expensive equipment that was no longer working in this new, magical atmosphere. They were particularly disturbed by the fact that their radios wouldn’t emit a single, garbled crackle. It seemed odd to me that they kept trying; there was something mechanically rote about their actions.

‘Two cups and a piece of string will do you more good,’ I said, in a bid to be cheerful when one of them cursed at his walkie-talkie for the twentieth time.

Fab glanced at me. ‘So anything technological doesn’t work then?’ he guessed.

I shrugged. ‘Anything that doesn’t rely on computers or signals from outside is generally okay. Older cars sometimes work, although we’re running out of petrol. Battery-operated equipment works, so we have torches that we can use at night time. We’ve been developing generators so we can have some electrical power. They’re temperamental and don’t tend to stay on for long, but we’re learning and getting better. We’re also adapting. We don’t really need the internet or mobile phones or Netflix after all.’

‘All the same,’ he said, ‘it must be hard to suddenly live without the technology you’ve always relied on.’ What was left unspoken was that a lot of that technology was developed by his company.

I answered honestly. ‘There are some things I miss. It’s not always easy. But there’s also a lot to be said for simpler times. This new world has more positives than negatives.’

He didn’t reply; whether that was because he disagreed or he was merely mulling over my words, I couldn’t have said. It wasn’t easy to judge what someone was thinking when they were covered from head to toe in a clumsy white tent.

‘And the other … people,’ he said. ‘What of them?’

I smiled. I knew what he wanted to ask and the question was probably a burning a hole in his mouth. When it had become clear what was happening in Manchester, every werewolf and vampire in the country had legged it straight here, desperate to get inside. They couldn’t have gone unnoticed. The Army couldn’t keep their true identities under wraps when, for the first time ever, the vamps and wolves had displayed their real natures. Part of me wished I could have seen the tabloids’ reactions. The British press certainly wasn’t shy about spouting opinions. It was no doubt one of those very tabloids that had coined the phrase ‘The Plague’.

‘We have many different people in Manchester,’ I said. ‘I won’t deny there’ve been some teething problems but things are settled now. We tend to get along very well.’

‘Yes, but…’

I didn’t wait to hear what else he was about to say. There was an indefinable ripple in the air and the faint scent of fresh dung tickled my nostrils. Under my feet, vibrations tickled the ground. I whipped round and glared at the entire group. ‘Get back,’ I hissed. ‘Something’s coming.’

They came to a sudden halt but what they didn’t do was move backwards. Clearly they weren’t willing to take orders from me. I could understand that. They’d learn.

Fab, at least, was prepared to pay attention. ‘Let’s do as Charley says,’ he murmured, turning round and walking back the way he’d come. His bodyguards drew in round him, closer than before. I wondered if they were genuinely prepared to risk their lives for him. Then I stopped wondering and took my own advice. I dropped the bike and ran for the wall of a nearby building, pressing myself against it. The