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

café which, by the lingering smell, was definitely still in use for the hotel residents. It was dark and quiet now but I envisaged that it would be a bustling place in a few hours’ time. I could find something to eat and then make my way home. Or I could find something to eat and go to my room to relax. It didn’t take much internal debate to plump for the latter. Monroe had been right: the citizens of the south would last without me for another day.

I ambled to a swing door where I assumed the hotel kitchen was located. The fridges might be out of action but the pantry was reasonably well stocked given our post-apocalyptic world. As far as I could tell, the old wood-fired pizza oven had been appropriated to bake bread and I found more than enough leftovers, plus some very tasty-looking jam, to quiet the grumbles in my stomach. My last three meals had been cold beans eaten out of the tin to save time. Fresh bread and fruity jam right in front of me was utterly glorious.

I lifted a plate off one of the shadowed shelves, located a knife, then hopped onto a table and started to spread jam thickly onto one of the bread slices. It tasted so good that I crammed half of it into my mouth, murmuring with delight. I probably looked like a messy toddler with strawberry jam smeared round my mouth. I didn’t care.

I was about to start on my third piece when the most godawful keening sound filled the air. It sounded vaguely akin to a tortured dog. I dropped the bread and froze. I couldn’t work out where the sound was coming from. Under pre-apocalyptic circumstances I’d have assumed it was a fire alarm but under these circumstances – well, it could be anything.

With magic tingling at my fingertips, I leapt off the table and ran out to the lobby. Whatever it was, I’d deal with it.

From the stairwell, a dressing-gowned, flapping figure appeared. ‘Whatever you are,’ Timmons bellowed, ‘begone!’

I blinked at him. ‘Um…’

He swung wild eyes in my direction before relaxing. ‘Oh,’ he said. ‘It’s just you.’

I decided I preferred being told to begone. All the same, I injected a cheery note into my voice, speaking loudly enough to be heard over the continuing wail. ‘Just me.’ I waved a hand. ‘What on earth is going on?’

Timmons ran a hand through his hair, which did absolutely nothing to smooth it down and only served to make him look more dishevelled. ‘Magic alarm,’ he muttered and then gave a loud curse. He screwed up his face, concentrating. A few seconds later, the screeching stopped. ‘What did you do?’ he asked. He sounded irritated. I didn’t mind that; I’d be irritated at being woken up this early by a wailing banshee too.

‘Nothing! I was hungry so I went looking for something to eat. I found some bread in the kitchen…’

He sighed. ‘And some jam too, by the looks of it.’

I wiped my mouth. Yep. Some sweet strawberry goodness still clung there. Mmmm. ‘I didn’t think it would be a problem.’

‘It’s not.’

Uh oh. ‘So if I didn’t set off that alarm, what did?’

‘It was you.’ He tutted to himself.

‘But…’

‘Some of the residents are concerned about their safety. We had an invasion of snakes a while ago. Then there was your friend Max—’

‘Hey! He was never my friend!’

Timmons nodded, distracted. ‘Yes, alright. Anyway, everyone wanted assurances that I’d keep them safe so I used a bit of magic to set up an alarm system. Any time anyone does anything deemed to be a danger to the hotel, the alarm goes off.’

‘Ah.’ I pursed my lips and nodded gravely as if I understood what he was talking about. ‘So making myself a jam butty was dangerous?’

Timmons grimaced. ‘You’d be amazed at what the magic decides fits the definition of danger. The alarm went off when a vase of flowers was knocked over by accident. It went off when Phil in 204 snored so loudly that his neighbours were kept awake.’ He ticked off his fingers. ‘It even went off when there was something of a love tryst occurring between two of our older residents. It’s not an exact spell. I’ve been adjusting it for weeks.’

‘Is it a good idea,’ I asked carefully, ‘to be using such magic all the time?’ After all, it was magic usage that got Manchester into this mess in the first place. I’d been under the impression that I had to curb my own spells to avoid any further city-wide turbulence. Timmons himself had told me months ago that I couldn’t make Manchester any worse more than it already was but I was still nervous about it. Who wouldn’t be?

Despite my palpable concern, Timmons scoffed. ‘What I do here is a drop in the proverbial ocean. It won’t do any harm. Only a large group of magic wielders constantly making use of their skills will cause issues.’ He gave me a clever look, obviously understanding where my concern was coming from. ‘You don’t have to worry, Charley. Things are settled here now. I might have been concerned in the initial aftermath but now I seriously doubt you could use enough magic to create problems.’

All the same, I wasn’t sure it was wise to use magic unless the situation genuinely called for it. A magical alarm that was set off when someone spread some jam on a slice of bread struck me as a step too far.

From beyond the stairwell, a wide-eyed face appeared. ‘Is it safe?’

‘Yes, yes.’ Timmons smiled. ‘Don’t worry, Jacob. It’s all fine.’

A woman appeared behind the nervy Jacob. ‘This isn’t good enough! It’s the middle of the night! That damned alarm goes off far too often.’

I sensed Timmons holding back. ‘You asked for the alarm. You agreed to it.’

‘I didn’t know it would keep screaming at me all the time, did I? It’s your magic. You have to sort it out.’

‘I’m doing