Furtive Dawn

Book 3: City of Magic

by Helen Harper

Genres: Urban Fantasy; Literary Fiction

Synopsis

It's been almost a year since the magical apocalypse closed off the city of Manchester from the rest of the world. The vampires, werewolves and humans within the city all now live together in relative harmony . . . but trouble is brewing on the horizon.

Supplies are starting to run out and, despite their best efforts to grow crops and create a sustainable future, everyone knows that it will be an uphill battle. Still, the magic swirling in the city air is an incredible bonus. Charley, the most magical of them all, is determined to do whatever she can to help out her new community and with Monroe by her side, she's confident that things will turn out alright. But when someone from beyond Manchester's walls makes contact, what happens next will be anyone's guess.

Release date: May 3, 2019

Print pages: 269

Sample

Chapter One

 

 

There are many differences between average poker players and elite poker players. I could wax lyrical about those differences for hours but that would mean giving away all my secrets. I might not play cards or gamble very often these days, but I still hold out hope that I might make a return to the tables. For that reason, I keep most of my best strategies to myself.

 

One strategy that you should know about, however, is that it’s vital to think about ranges rather than specific hands. It’s tempting to imagine that the player opposite is holding a top pair and then work from that. What’s more useful is to picture the entire range of hands in a certain situation and make your play with that understanding. Your opponent certainly could have a top pair, but they could also be holding a flush, a draw or absolutely nothing at all. You have to consider all possibilities – and it was with that thought in mind that I faced the towering shadow beast in front of me.

 

It could be on its own, a lone monster that had sprung from the darkness that conceived it. In that unlikely scenario, it would be an easy matter to take it down and continue on my way home. The road here was well-travelled; if a magical nastie wanted to avoid bumping into anyone, it wouldn’t take this route. And a magical beastie with any sense would stay away from me.

 

But the road was also wide, with various side streets leading off to both the left and right, so this could be an ambush. There could be several shadow beasts lying in wait up ahead. If that were the case, it would be far more sensible to turn tail and run – unless that was what the creature wanted me to do. Some of the magical beasts that now lived in Manchester were canny bastards with well-developed herding instincts. They rarely attacked unless they were certain of victory. In fact, they rarely attacked at all. It stood to reason that if this big bastard was so confident it was working with others. I grimaced. The last thing I wanted was to find myself in a nest of the things.

 

It wasn’t just numbers that I had to consider; there was also the beast’s magical power to think about. I ran through the gamut of possibilities in my head, from the chance that it possessed virtually no magical ability despite its inherently magical existence, to the theory that I’d just bumped into the Merlin of the monster world – a creature with more might and magic than anything ever seen before. And all these thoughts ran through my mind in less time than it took the beast to throw back its head and roar.

 

I waited until its dark eyes were fixed on me and then lunged forward towards it. I didn’t touch it; sometimes a show of strength was enough to scare off a would-be predator. That was why kittens could sometimes freak out Alsatians. But it didn’t work in this instance. The shadow beast bristled at my defiance and roared again, the sound reverberating down the empty street and making the ground under my feet vibrate. Okay. So it was pretty angry. That didn’t bode well.

 

It took a step towards me, its vast arms slamming out and punching the buildings on either side. The biggest problem, I decided, was its size: it was at least thirty feet tall. Still, you know what they say – the bigger they are, the harder they fall. I wasn’t beyond cheesy clichés, especially not when they were true.

 

Magic flared at my fingertips. As the creature swung its left arm towards me with swift, brutal force, I hurled out two identical streams of the good stuff and leapt backwards. The magic hit the beast’s kneecaps. It howled, black eyes widening in pain, then it crashed down. Cracks immediately appeared in the concrete where it landed.

 

If I thought I’d won, I was sorely mistaken. It lunged at me, its massive paw cuffing me on the side of the head and sending me flying. Now we were both sprawled on the chilly tarmac.

 

‘What are you doing?’

 

I squinted up at Monroe, who was standing over me with raised eyebrows. ‘Fighting a giant shadow monster,’ I said. ‘What does it look like I’m doing?’

 

‘You look like you’re taking a nap.’ A smirk played around his lips.

 

‘Fine,’ I snapped. ‘You deal with the beastie then.’

 

He swept a bow, his dark-red curls falling artlessly across his forehead. ‘As my lady desires.’

 

Monroe shifted in a heartbeat, clothes ripping as he transformed from sexy Scottish man to furry Scottish wolf. A flying button from his shirt thwacked into my cheekbone.

 

‘Hey!’ I protested. ‘That hurt!’

 

His tongue lolled at me for a second in a disarming, wolfish grin then he sprang towards the fallen shadow beast. I propped myself up on my elbows and watched. The beast heaved itself up onto all fours and screeched in Monroe’s face, causing his fur to ripple dramatically. It snapped its jaws, narrowly missing ripping off Monroe’s head. Sheesh.

 

Monroe’s haunches tightened and he leapt upwards, landing on the creature’s head. His paws sank into the shadowy outline and, for a strange moment, I thought his entire body was about to be subsumed by the dark shape. Then he found his footing and managed to spin round, lifting one of his paws to claw at its eyes. The shadow monster howled in response and pulled itself upright again, desperately trying to shake him off. Monroe clung on but, despite his best efforts, he didn’t appear to be in a position to do any further damage.

 

Giving up on his attempt to throw Monroe off, the shadow beast snarled and reached round with one paw before grabbing Monroe’s tail and flinging him away. Monroe landed on the ground a few metres away from me with a tremendous thud.

 

My insides froze but, when I heard him groan and saw him wiggle his legs and turn, I relaxed. I got to my feet. ‘How are you doing there, killer?’ I enquired. ‘Taking a wee nap?’

 

Monroe’s eyes narrowed. He couldn’t speak to me whilst in wolf form but he could still communicate through other means. The look he threw me was particularly disparaging. Then he glanced beyond me, his eyes flickering. Damn it. The shadow beast wasn’t giving up.

 

I spun round and faced it again. This really wasn’t how I’d planned on spending my evening. I’d thought that Monroe and I could grab something to eat and snuggle up together in the back garden with a couple of glasses of home-made wine. Having my snuggle plans interrupted was not doing anything for my mood.

 

‘All right, buster,’ I muttered. ‘No more Miss Nice Enchantress.’

 

I raised my hands once more. It wouldn’t be a gentle stream of magic this time; I was prepared to hit the shadow beast with full force.

 

Unfortunately for me, it was now wise to my movements. Before my power could be released, the beast swung towards me. It used one of its claws to snag the front of my T-shirt and haul me towards its gaping mouth. I writhed and wriggled, hoping that if I could generate enough movement the sharp claw would slice through the fabric and I’d fall to the ground. But I was well and truly caught and it appeared that no amount of shoogling was going to free me. I cursed to myself and grabbed the creature’s paw instead.

 

Its fur was surprisingly soft and my fingers sank down, disappearing into a blackness that wasn’t quite animal and wasn’t quite shadow but was something else entirely. At no point did I touch anything that suggested bone or cartilage or substantial body parts.

 

Before I had chance to ponder that little fact, Monroe was barking out a warning from below and the shadow beast was hauling me up towards its mouth. I caught the faintest glimpse of red-tinged eyes, enraged and deadly. Then its jaws opened wide and I knew exactly where the beast intended to put me.

 

I’d been inside a monster’s mouth before. In the very early days of the apocalypse, the Canal Monster caught me when I was trying to help out another poor soul. On that occasion I’d escaped because it was playing with its food. I didn’t get the impression that this monster was about to do the same. From the glint in its eye, it was determined to dispose of me as quickly as it could. I had to act fast.

 

I left my hands embedded in its paw and worked on building up the glow of magic deep in my belly. Just as the cavernous shadow mouth threatened to swallow me in one gulp, I released everything I had. My body jerked as the magic pulsated out of me and into the monster.

 

At first it didn’t seem to work. The monster tipped back its head, ready to drop me into its throat and swallow me whole – but then it hesitated for a fraction of a second before it released me. There was a strange choking sound, like it had a tickle in its throat. The choking became a splutter then an earthquaking cough. It swung its arms from side to side, flailing desperately as it tried to breathe.

 

This time, the creature’s own movement was enough. Using the law of physics and oppositional forces, I pushed away from the direction in which its arm was pulling. The claw finally tore through the fabric of my T-shirt and I fell through air, just as the shadow beast staggered backwards and also started to fall.

 

I expected to land on the hard concrete below and I knew that this time I’d definitely break a bone or two. I tried to twist in mid-air so at least I didn’t land on my spine. I shouldn’t have worried; Monroe was already there, returned to human form with his arms outstretched. He should have given more thought to his heroics, though, as we both ended up sprawled on the ground, albeit with his body beneath mine. The pained grunt he emitted when I smacked into him didn’t sound pleasant. Still, we were safe and the shadow beast had finally stopped moving.

 

I extricated myself from Monroe and stood up. Cricking my neck and feeling far more achy than I had ten minutes earlier, I glanced down at him. ‘Are you okay?’

 

‘Peachy,’ he muttered. His arm was lying at an unnatural angle. I grimaced and reached down to help him up.

 

He shifted back into wolf again and his bones creaked and snapped, then he returned to human, rubbing his now unbroken arm. An impressive bruise was already forming on his tanned skin. It was just as well that werewolves healed quickly.

 

‘Remind me not to do that again in a hurry,’ he said. ‘Are you hurt?’

 

‘I’m fine.’ My aches and pains were hardly life threatening.

 

We turned towards the fallen body of the shadow beast. I couldn’t see any sign of life but, to be sure that the damn thing wasn’t playing possum, I edged round to check its face. Its eyes were open wide and staring. I breathed out. That was that.

 

I blew my hair out of my eyes and walked down the road. I grabbed my backpack from where I’d left it and took out the bundled-up clothes I was carrying for Monroe. He offered me a lopsided grin when I handed them to him and started pulling on the tracksuit bottoms.

 

‘It’s unusual,’ I said, enjoying a last-minute gawk at his toned body before it disappeared, ‘for any creature to take us on by itself.’ In fact, it was more than unusual. In the last few months, Manchester and all its citizens, monstrous or otherwise, had settled into a live-and-let-live situation. Creatures like this shadow beast were well aware of our skills and tended to leave us alone unless they were provoked. They weren’t usually stupid and they wanted to survive as much as we did. This beast hadn’t appeared particularly dumb – certainly not dumb enough to flout the unwritten rules that had been slowly developing since the apocalypse.

 

Monroe’s head poked through his T-shirt and he frowned. ‘Food is getting scarce for all of us,’ he said. ‘Perhaps it was very hungry. And three of those things attacked Felicity last week.’

 

I wrinkled my nose. ‘Three of them – and they still failed. She walked away. For one of them on its own to attack suggests there’s more going on here than meets the eye.’

 

‘Go on then,’ he said. ‘What are the odds that Blackie here had an ulterior motive?’

 

‘Five to four,’ I answered instantly. Even then I was erring on the side of caution. I paused and tilted my head to the right, from where the beast had sprung. ‘No others have appeared so it must have been on its own.’ But I felt troubled; something wasn’t right.

 

Monroe’s bluer-than-blue eyes met mine. ‘Let’s check out the lay of the land.’

 

I nodded and walked forward, sidling past the gigantic corpse. At least the other beasties would have something to feast on tonight. By tomorrow, there would be nothing left. My stomach grumbled. These days enforced rationing was affecting us all.

 

I hopped over one outstretched monster leg, moved lightly to the next crossing and peered round the corner. I couldn’t see anything; I couldn’t hear anything. When I looked at Monroe for confirmation, he shrugged. Clearly his nose wasn’t picking up anything either. Maybe the shadow beast had simply been out in the sun for too long and its brains had been addled.

 

Monroe reached for my hand, his fingers entwining with mine. ‘There’s nothing here. Let’s go home.’ There was a dusky promise in his tone that made my toes curl with hot temptation.

 

‘No.’ I squeezed his hand. ‘Later. Let’s look around a little more.’

 

‘Charlotte,’ he sighed, ‘there’s no sign of anything else. The monster was on its own. It…’ He was interrupted by the tiniest of squeaks.

 

I dropped Monroe’s hand. ‘I heard that,’ I whispered.

 

He nodded stiffly. ‘I can’t smell anything,’ he said. ‘Not beyond our dead beastie anyway.’ That was unusual but not impossible. I placed my finger to my lips. If we were going to hear any more little squeaks, we needed to listen hard.

 

We waited. One minute. Two minutes. I couldn’t hear a damn thing apart from the wind whistling through the empty buildings around us. But both of us couldn’t have imagined it – we’d both heard that first sound.

 

Just when I was starting to think that this latest beastie had caught wind of us and scarpered, there was another squeak. It was more plaintive this time.

 

Monroe pointed to the left and immediately set off in that direction, walking carefully on the balls of his feet to mask the sound of his footsteps. I followed, keeping to my tiptoes and trying hard to match his silent movements. We walked down the side street for a good fifty metres. No gigantic shadow beasts appeared – nor anything else.

 

Eventually, Monroe turned and shrugged. ‘There’s nothing here,’ he said. ‘Those things aren’t exactly small. If there was another one lurking around, we’d have seen it by now.’

 

He was probably right. Shadow beasts of that size usually stayed out in the open. Few of the buildings around here had large enough openings to allow them to enter; every doorway around here was human sized. There simply wasn’t anywhere to hide.

 

‘We did hear something, Monroe,’ I said. ‘Both of us heard something.’

 

‘I’m not denying that we did, but whatever we heard is obviously sensible enough to stay out of our way. Unlike our friend back there. There’s no more danger.’

 

I couldn’t argue. He was right: there was no point looking for trouble, not if trouble was hiding from us. Then I spotted the broken glass on the pavement ahead. My eyes tracked upwards, registering the large open window several storeys up.

 

‘Give me one minute,’ I said to Monroe.

 

He hissed under his breath. ‘Charlotte…’

 

I didn’t wait to hear his complaint. I dodged inside the door, ignoring the fusty smell of decay that lingered inside the building, and crept up the stairs. Everything was coated in a thick layer of dust. As I walked, I disturbed the motes and they swirled round me in a hazy cloud. 

 

By the time I reached the third floor, I couldn’t hold back the sneeze. ‘Atchoo!’ More dust flew away from me. I wiped my nose in irritation.

 

There was another sneeze but this time it wasn’t mine.

 

It sounded as if it had come from above me. I edged up the next set of stairs. The floorboards creaked as I moved and I held my breath, but I couldn’t hear anything else.

 

Biting my lip, I reached the landing. There was only one door here. I carefully turned the doorknob and pushed open the door so I could peek inside. Magic was prickling at my fingertips and I was ready to defend myself. Something was in this room, I could sense it. Come out, come out, wherever you are.

 

There was a rustle in the far corner. I narrowed my eyes, trying to pierce the gloom. I could see a pile of old cardboard boxes that had clearly been there for some time judging by the furry mould growing on them. There was a strong smell of urine. Keeping my eye on the boxes, I backed to the window. Whatever glass had once been there had all but gone.

 

I leaned back and checked the street below. The shards on the pavement were definitely from this window. Most, though, had fallen inside rather than out. I considered the height. It was possible – just possible – that the shadow beast Monroe and I had dispatched had smashed the glass in order to put something – or someone – in here for safe keeping. It couldn’t have got inside but it could have shoved in something smaller. The window was at the right height. The worrying question was what had it put here?

 

Monroe appeared in the doorway. ‘There’s nothing here,’ he said. ‘We should get home before it gets dark.’

 

At the sound of his voice, whatever was hiding behind the boxes jumped. There was a further rustling sound and another high-pitched squeak. I shot Monroe a warning look and edged toward the boxes. ‘Hey,’ I cooed softly.

 

There was another faint scuffling sound. Maybe it was a cat. Maybe the shadow beast had kept a pet. I hoped that was all it was; if it was a small human child, I didn’t know what I would do.

 

I tried again. ‘Hello. I’m Charley.’

 

Monroe rolled his eyes. ‘This is a really bad idea.’

 

I ignored his downbeat attitude. ‘What can you smell?’

 

‘Nothing.’ He shrugged. ‘I mean, nothing new. It smells the same as the monster we just killed.’

 

Oh. I bit my lip as I realised that I had a good idea what might be making the noise. It would explain why we’d been attacked in broad daylight by a single shadow beast. Shit. A wash of heavy guilt flooded me.

 

‘Monroe,’ I whispered, ‘I think we should…’

 

The boxes flew apart and a tiny black creature came barrelling out towards us at full speed. Monroe leapt protectively in front of me. He needn’t have bothered. The mini shadow beast came to a skidding halt in front of his feet and started to hiss. I stepped out from behind Monroe and crouched down.

 

The little creature puffed up to around twice its previous size and glared at me.

 

‘Aw,’ I said, ‘it’s only a baby!’

 

‘A monster baby.’ Monroe tsked. ‘Leave it alone and let’s get out of here.’

 

The monster baby in question jumped from side to side, abandoning its hissing in favour of squeaky growls. It raised a little paw to swipe at Monroe.

 

Monroe looked straight in its eyes. The tiny beast thought better of its actions and lowered its paw again.

 

‘We can’t abandon it,’ I said.

 

Monroe folded his arms. ‘You cannot be serious.’

 

‘We killed its mother.’

 

‘Its mother was trying to kill us,’ he reminded

me.

 

I kept my eyes on the baby. ‘Only because it was trying to protect its offspring. Any mother would do the same.’

 

‘Charlotte…’ He sighed. ‘It might be cute now but we both know what it will grow into. And look at it. It can’t wait to attack.’

 

As if wanting to agree with Monroe, the little creature finally made up its mind and lunged at his leg, sinking in its teeth. Monroe yelped and shook it off, sending it flying into the pile of boxes.

 

‘Don’t hurt it!’ I exclaimed. I darted forward and reached down, picking it up and cradling it against my chest. Its body felt as strangely insubstantial as its parent’s had. I took care not to poke my hands too deep inside it and held it as if it were a piece of fragile bone china. The creature turned its jet-black eyes on me and let out a whimper. ‘It’s trembling,’ I said. ‘The poor thing is terrified.’

 

‘We can’t take it with us, Charlotte. It’s a magical, murderous beast. It’s not a kitten.’

 

I stroked its back. The little thing continued to whimper but I could feel its shaking starting to subside. ‘If we leave it here,’ I told him, ‘it will die.’