City of Magic: The Complete Series by Helen Harper (book club recommendations TXT) 📕

I sucked in a breath. I didn’t know a great deal about guns but this one certainly looked lethal.

Monroe held out his hand. ‘May I?’

The bogle looked at Alora. She jerked her head and the gun was handed over to Monroe. ‘It’s already been unloaded,’ she said, flicking her eyes to me. ‘In case you were wondering.’

As a matter of fact, I hadn’t been; I was too dismayed at the sight of the weapon. It wasn’t a toy or an antique or a mere curiosity, it was an object designed for only one thing – and that was to kill.

There was a tradition and an art to the swords that the bogles carried, something graceful and beautiful about them despite their lethal nature. Even the guns that I’d confronted when soldiers had entered Manchester to start the evacuations and when Max had tried to take over the city had been of a utilitarian mundanity. The gun that Monroe was holding was a different beast altogether.

If you think it was strange to attach so much to a mere object that was rendered useless by its lack of bullets, that’s because you didn’t see what I was seeing. You could call it inexperience or innocence: to me it was downright common sense. I recoiled when Monroe offered it to me. No, thank you.

‘The bag,’ Alora murmured.

Another bogle stepped forward and held out a backpack. He unzipped it and Monroe and I peered inside. It contained at least three more handguns and an array of grenades. Shit. The dead guy had meant serious business.

‘Wait,’ I said suddenly, as a thought struck me. ‘When you came to us, you said “they”. You said they were human. Where are the others?’

Alora pointed at a short bogle with thinning hair that looked incongruous on such a young face. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and lifted up his chin. I noted the bandages on his arm and his leg and the fresh blood seeping from underneath them. ‘They came in from the south,’ he squeaked. He cleared his throat and tried again. ‘They came in from the south by Winner Street. There were two of them. Him and,’ he hesitated, ‘another one.’

‘Where is the other one now?’ Monroe growled.

‘She spotted me before I got too close. She said something to this one and then she ran. Then he started shooting.’

Bloody hell. ‘What did she look like?’

‘It was still dark. I didn’t get a look at her face,’ he whispered.

Monroe’s expression was taut. ‘She told him to stay and fight,’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘And meanwhile she saved herself.’

‘Was anyone else hurt?’ I asked.

‘Andus was shot twice,’ Alora said coolly. ‘Is that not enough? Far more would have been hurt if Malbus hadn’t been nearby and heard the shots. He was able to flank him and take him down, otherwise things would have been far, far worse.’

I sneaked a look at Malbus. He was stony-faced and I suspected that the incident had shaken him more than he was letting on. Killing someone, even in self-defence, would probably do that to you.

‘Flip him over,’ Alora instructed.

Two of the bogles lurched forward and grasped the corpse, turning him unceremoniously onto his back. I ignored the wound at his neck where he’d bled out and focused on his face. I thought I knew him, although what his name was I couldn’t guess. What I did know was that he’d come late to the south, arriving only a few weeks ago after hiding somewhere else in the city. I’d spoken to him briefly at the time and he’d seemed more shell-shocked and scared than anything else. The idea that he could be a threat hadn’t crossed my mind.

‘You know him,’ Alora said, reading my expression.

‘Not well,’ I admitted. ‘But yes. He’s one of mine.’

A strange rumbling sound reached my ears. At first I couldn’t work out what it was, then I realised it was coming from several of the bogles. They were growling. Uh oh. That didn’t bode well but frankly I didn’t blame them. Fury mixed with guilt rushed through me. This human had come here to kill. He lived in my community; he was a part of me and mine. And he’d come to this place armed with guns and grenades.

‘I don’t know his name,’ I said in a strained voice. ‘Or his history. I have no idea why he did this or who the woman was. I will find her,’ I promised. ‘I will deal with this. And it won’t ever happen again.’

Alora’s eyes met mine. ‘You can’t guarantee that,’ she said simply. ‘Don’t make promises you can’t keep.’

I drew myself up. ‘I will find her,’ I repeated. I tried not to dwell on the fact that I now had not one but two murder investigations to deal with. ‘And I swear on my own life that I did not breathe a word about your existence to anyone.’

Alora gazed at me for a long time. Eventually, she gave a curt nod. She believed me, which was something; whether she believed that this would not happen again was a different proposition.

‘You weren’t the target.’ Monroe’s words were so quiet that I barely heard him. I turned towards him and blinked. He repeated himself. ‘You weren’t the target. Charlotte is not a liar and I did not tell anyone about you either. We have had other … issues on our plate.’ He looked at me. ‘You said that you did speak about Nimue. You told others about the mermaid.’

I stiffened. No. Oh no.

‘Nimue was the target,’ I whispered. ‘They were heading for Boggart Hole, not here. That dead bastard and his girlfriend were taken by surprise. They weren’t expecting anyone to be here. That’s why she ran and why Malbus managed to sneak up on him so easily.’

The bogle in question folded his arms. ‘I am good at sneaking,’ he asserted.

‘I don’t