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

at random; it was first on the list for one reason only – its location. It was the furthest away from home, we were working our way back inwards, and it was right next to a large removal company. We’d never manage to drive a lorry through the streets of Manchester, not now, but we could drive one a short distance from the removal company. Then we could fill it up with what we needed, lock it securely and leave it in a quiet spot where it would hopefully remain undisturbed until we needed what was inside.

In less than forty minutes, we’d done that. I pretended not to notice Monroe grabbing a bottle of whisky as we moved to the next location, though he didn’t exactly try to hide it. He alternated veering round massive tree roots and smaller sinkholes with swigging at the bottle.

We weren’t the only ones on the streets. Some people skulked round corners, skittering away when they heard us coming. Others were carrying boxes of supplies, returning to their own hidey-holes wherever they might be. We also passed several vehicles making a beeline for the edge of the city filled with people who had clung on until the last minute before deciding to leave. I gestured calmly at each person we saw, a shared acknowledgment of our predicament. Monroe grunted at them.

In one of the supermarkets we almost collided with a group of people throwing tins and bottles into trolleys. Fortunately, they weren’t like Max. We nodded at each other and went our separate ways.

I was snapping a padlock on to a gardener’s shed in the city allotment next to our third darkened shop, while Monroe retrieved the Jeep, when loud plane engines roared overhead. I darted into the car park, my eyes tracking the sky. I could see three separate aircraft, each flying low to the ground. These were not passenger jets or stealth fighters. I nodded to myself, grimly satisfied.

A moment later, Monroe joined me. ‘Well, well, well,’ he murmured. ‘They’re keeping their promise.’

As we watched, large white bundles started to fall out of the planes. I shielded my eyes against the blue-tinged sun and watched the packages descend.

‘North-east,’ Monroe said. ‘And west. Several of the others are heading south.’

I swivelled, keeping my eyes trained on the south as those air drops seemed to be closest to our location. ‘Old Trafford,’ I told him. ‘It’s got to be.’

‘The football ground?’

I nodded.

‘How long will it take us to reach it?’

‘From here?’ I pursed my lips. ‘Maybe twenty minutes. It’s a good location for a drop – but we certainly won’t be the only ones there.’

We exchanged glances. Our plan was that, in the event that the army did indeed drop emergency supplies, we would only go and retrieve them if they were close by and we had a good chance of getting them. The army supplies would be high in nutritional content and would contain other necessities that might take us more time to find, such as water purification tablets and the like. We knew we were likely to have competition in getting them; we also knew that it was likely there wouldn’t be any more supply drops in the near future.

We’d chosen to stay behind despite all advice to the contrary; sooner or later the government would decide that we had to look out for ourselves. It wasn’t cynicism; it was simply being realistic. With all the evacuees outside the city, thousands of others needed help more than we did. Our experiences were probably calm compared to what was happening in the temporary camps and shelters that had been set up outside Manchester.

‘It’s worth it,’ we said simultaneously.

‘Jinx,’ I mumbled.

Monroe flashed me a sudden unexpected smile. It was the first one I’d seen from him since he’d shown up at my door with Madrona. That seemed an eternity ago. I smiled back at him, then we took off, running towards the Jeep and flinging ourselves inside.

With Monroe’s foot flat on the pedal, it was a far bumpier ride than before. I was forced to grip the door handle to avoid crashing into him every time we swerved round a corner. I didn’t complain; we wouldn’t be the only ones who’d seen the planes. Far from it. We had to get our arses in gear.

Grudgingly I admitted that Monroe was a good driver. We made it over the canal to the gates of the famous football ground in fifteen minutes flat. Now the fun would really begin.

Chapter Fifteen

We jogged up to the nearest turnstile leading into the stadium. ‘Twenty people, tops,’ Monroe said. ‘The humans will still be too afraid to come out in case more magic shit occurs.’

I shook my head. ‘There will be far more than that. The sort of people who’ve stayed behind can handle risk. There will be at least a couple of hundred. Lots will have seen the air drop and they’ll be heading here.’

As I spoke, another vehicle pulled up behind us. Monroe and I turned and watched as a thin man clambered out. Nerve-wrackingly, he was holding a shotgun tightly in both hands but when he spotted us he offered a small smile, rather than blasting away at us. That was good. Every day I didn’t get shot in the arse was good.

‘Fifty people, then. I bet there won’t be more,’ Monroe said.

It was like a balm to my ears. ‘I’ll take that bet.’ I mulled over appropriate terms. ‘If I win, you’ll teach me how to fight. I have a feeling there are gaps in my knowledge that could do with filling.’ It would keep his mind off his grief – and I’d seen him fight. I reckoned that, even without his wolf form, he could show me a lot.

Apparently I wasn’t the only one. ‘Done,’ he said, snapping his fingers. ‘You are a cleaner, after all. There’s a world of things you won’t know.’

He seemed to think I was an inferior being because of my