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

‘Do better!’ she snapped.

I watched her. I wasn’t the only person in Manchester who was being put under pressure to make sure everything worked and everyone was safe. Timmons appeared less aggrieved than I was but there was a tightening in my stomach at the woman’s tirade, which was all too familiar to my ears these days.

Timmons inhaled deeply and offered a benign smile. ‘I’m working on it.’

I cleared my throat. ‘It was my fault,’ I said. ‘I didn’t realise the alarm was in place.’

The woman scowled at me. I might never have met her before but I’d encountered that same facial expression many times in recent weeks.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘It won’t happen…’ There was a thunderous clatter of footsteps from the stairwell.

‘Help! Someone help!’

My blood froze. Whoever was yelling, there was no mistaking the note of pure fear in their voice. Timmons heard it too. He pushed past the couple and glanced upwards.

‘Mr Timmons! You have to help! Valerie has been murdered! She’s … she’s … dead!’

And right then and there I knew that my short-lived-but-very-welcome holiday was well and truly over.

Chapter Six

It didn’t help that I knew Valerie, and not just from the apocalyptic madness. Our paths had crossed many times on the poker circuit. We never got on that well but I’d like to think there was a sort of mutual respect. Occasionally. The old adage that you shouldn’t speak ill of the dead rang true for me more than it probably should have done.

Until I entered her room, following on Timmons’ heels, I’d kept my fingers crossed that she’d passed away from natural causes. In these turbulent times it would be easy to jump to conclusions. Valerie wasn’t exactly decrepit but she was old and she hadn’t lived a particularly healthy lifestyle. I could well imagine that she’d had a heart attack or a stroke. Maybe such a swift death would be a blessing, given our lack of trained doctors and working hospitals. All these thoughts were running through my head right up to the point where I saw her body. In that moment everything changed.

‘Shit.’

She lay on her bed, one arm draped over the side and dangling lifelessly while her fingers trailed on the floor. Her fingernails, which were always immaculately manicured, were cracked and broken. Her hair looked matted and in knots, like someone had deliberately scrunched it up. If I were honest, I’d have struggled to recognise her as Valerie but little details referenced her, from the delicate filigree bracelet on her wrist to the beauty spot on her cheek. As a whole, however, the sunken look to her skin and her skull-like appearance made it difficult to equate her corpse with the living being who had once occupied it.

‘How long…’ My voice cracked. I swallowed and tried again. ‘When was the last time anyone saw her?’

‘I can ask around,’ Timmons said. He looked as pale as Valerie did. ‘I saw her at breakfast yesterday.’

I am no forensic scientist or mortician but even I knew that a body couldn’t shrivel like this in less than twenty-four hours. She was practically a husk. I dredged up the word for myself. Exsanguination: that was it. Valerie’s entire body had been drained of all its blood. I shuddered.

Steeling myself, I edged over to get a closer look. There was only the faintest odour of death emanating from her; most of what I smelled was talcum powder. I stared into her glazed eyes, willing her to blink and giggle and tell us all this was nothing more than a tasteless joke. That wasn’t going to happen. We all knew it.

Her head was tilted slightly to the side and her neck was arched. Something caught my eye and, holding my breath, I leaned down for a closer look. When I saw what it was, I stiffened and pulled back.

‘What?’ Timmons asked. ‘What do you see?’

I gave him a grim look. ‘Puncture wounds,’ I said. ‘Right by her jugular.’

We gazed at each other for a moment – let’s face it, it was better than looking at Valerie’s corpse. The identical thought was mirrored in our expressions. The shit was well and truly about to hit the fan.

I couldn’t tell you for sure how many vampires were now living in Manchester. Great numbers had flocked here in the immediate aftermath of the apocalypse, drawn by the magic that strengthened their powers and by the idea that, finally, they could be free to live their lives without worrying about secrecy. For a long time their numbers had been depleted, hunted down by a small cabal of hunters who knew of their existence. As vampires are born and not made, their population had dwindled to near extinction.

Despite their woes, they had few fans. Julie, a vampire herself, had come close to triggering the end of the world rather than simply the end of Manchester. To make matters worse, as they enjoyed the magic atmosphere of this newly-born city the vampires grew more arrogant and predatorial. Still, as far as I was aware, none of them had actually killed anyone.

‘I knew we should have worked harder on that census,’ I muttered to myself as much as to Timmons while we waited for Anna to arrive. ‘At least then we’d have a proper pool of suspects.’

He offered me a helpless shrug. ‘How on earth would you have enforced it? Anyway, from what I’ve heard you’ve been more than busy with other matters.’

He was right but it didn’t stop me thinking yet again that I should have done more. I should have been better. For the briefest moment the face of my long-since-dead little brother flashed into my mind. I should have done more to save him back then; I should be doing more to save my city now. Then maybe whichever vampire had drained Valerie of all her blood would have thought twice about it.

I curled my fingers into tight fists. Whatever I’d thought of the woman, I wouldn’t