by Helen Harper
‘I have also heard about the devastating fire,’ Barrett continued, ‘and the terrible loss of all your food supplies and rations. You do not have to fear, however. I have brought food in with me and next time I shall bring in more. As long as I am around, you will not go hungry. I will make sure you have everything you need.’
‘Our gallant saviour,’ I muttered under my breath. Then I raised my voice. ‘It is strange, don’t you think, that the fire occurred during your absence?’
My words carried over the heads of the others. Part of me expected Barrett to pretend he hadn’t heard but he wasn’t that stupid. He knew to confront his detractors head on.
‘Charlotte,’ he said, turning in my direction. ‘I’m not sure what you mean. Had I been here, I couldn’t have prevented that fire any more than you could.’ He shook his head sadly. ‘What a terrible accident. I’m just glad that no one was hurt. Of course, you will appreciate that more than anyone. Your own brother died in a fire, did he not? Little Joshua. What was he? Six years old? Seven? You were supposed to be looking after him and yet he died. It must have been so terrifying for him – it would be terrifying for any child to die like that, alone and unable to breathe. What a tragedy. If only you could have done something to help him.’
Almost instantly Monroe was at my back, his hand reaching for mine. ‘Charlotte,’ he growled, ‘stay calm.’
‘I’m perfectly calm,’ I said, pretending that I wasn’t struggling to bring my breathing back under control. I could feel my magic pressing at my fingertips, threatening to burst out in Barrett’s direction. ‘It’s Charley to you,’ I called to Barrett, ‘as you well know.’
‘Charley,’ he smiled genially at everyone else, his expression suggesting that I was an irrational child whose actions deserved nothing more than patronising amusement. ‘I do apologise.’
‘What I think Charlotte meant,’ Monroe said loudly, ‘is that we went eleven whole months without any such fire. Then you came and suddenly everything went up in flames.’
‘I wasn’t here, though,’ Barrett replied. ‘Are you suggesting that I had something to do with it? I can assure you that I did not.’ He did a good job of looking upset. ‘I don’t know why you would think such a thing.’
‘Maybe it was an accident,’ Julian shouted, from the other side of the crowd. ‘Maybe the fire was nothing more than bad luck. But while you were gone, we found evidence that people had been here in Manchester. People who had come from outside and who were watching us. Spying on us.’
Barrett frowned. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘Three communities in Manchester,’ I said. ‘We found three locations from where those communities were being spied on before you arrived.’ I dug into my pocket and pulled out the little Fab Labs pin that Alora had found. ‘This was at one of them. You sent people here to watch us. How long were they here for?’
There was the briefest flicker of indecision on Barrett’s face before he answered. He sighed heavily and slowly pivoted, gazing at everyone who was watching him. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Okay. I did send some advance scouts in. And yes, they did watch what you were doing for a few days.’
I held my breath. He was admitting it. He knew we’d caught him and there was no way out but the truth. My stomach clenched in a burst of delight.
Unfortunately Barrett wasn’t finished. ‘The truth is that there was no other choice. I’m ashamed to say that I was afraid. No one outside had any inkling of what was going on inside the walls. We didn’t know whether anyone was alive, whether there were survivors who’d turned themselves into gangs that would attack us if we tried to enter. Waltzing in here without knowing what we would face could have been a suicide mission. I sent highly trained people in through that door. No one was on the other side of it, so they investigated the city to see what was happening and who had survived. It was their job to find out whether Manchester was safe enough to enter and whether you would welcome us.’
He talked a good talk but it wasn’t quite good enough. ‘The door was blocked,’ I called. ‘No one could have entered that way.’
Barrett gestured helplessly in my direction. ‘There is no other way in. I don’t know what else to tell you.’
Murmurs were rising up across the crowd. He was winning more people over. But he was also lying; I knew he was.
‘So why,’ Monroe said, ‘didn’t you tell our loved ones back then that we were alive? You say they are waiting on the other side of the wall, thrilled at our survival. But if you – or someone working for you – had already been here, they’d have known that we were okay.’
‘They did know,’ he replied instantly. ‘But we didn’t know the number of people that were okay until we spoke to you.’ He had an answer for everything.
‘Someone tried to kill Charlotte,’ Monroe said. ‘And possibly me too.’ Every inch of him bristling with predatory rage.
The billionaire did a good job of looking shocked. ‘When was this? My goodness. That’s shocking.’ He turned to me. ‘I can assign you one of my guards if you’re scared there will be another attempt on your life.’
I folded my arms. ‘I’m not scared,’ I said flatly.
‘I’m so very happy to hear that, dear Charley.’ He pointed at his guards. They stepped to the nearest trailer, unbuckling the locks and flipping it open. Barrett reached inside and pulled out a fistful of brightly coloured chocolate bars. ‘Now,’ he said, ‘who’s hungry?’
People surged forward with outstretched hands. Barrett started tossing the bars into the crowd. He didn’t look in my direction.
I cursed and turned, pushing my way out. Whatever moment we’d had to confront him in public was gone.
‘The food he’s brought in will last about two weeks,’ Cath informed me. ‘And there aren’t any medical supplies. Fab said that they take longer to organise so he’ll bring them in next time.’
‘He’s making us entirely dependent on him and his goodwill,’ Monroe growled.
I nodded in grim agreement. ‘But to what end? We still don’t know what he’s after.’
‘Well, duh.’ Cath rolled her eyes. ‘He wants the magic. What else is there in Manchester to want? He acts like he’s afraid of it, and he still wears that suit thingamabob, but it’s got to be the magic that he’s after.’
Monroe glanced at me. ‘What’s his magical aura looking like now?’
‘Dark purple,’ I said shortly. ‘Very purple. It might be the suit that’s drawing the magic. Underneath it, he may still be protected. There’s no way of knowing for sure, not without yanking it off him.’
‘If the magic has affected him like it’s affected us, he can’t skip in and out of the door whenever he pleases. He’ll end up in quarantine for months, just like we would.’
‘But his aura isn’t like ours. We’re all blue. Fabian Barrett is the only person who’s different.’
‘We could tell him that,’ Cath suggested, ‘and put an end to all this. If he thinks he’s been contaminated by the magic, he might turn tail and leave.’
Julian didn’t look happy. ‘But we still need those supplies. We still need him more than he needs us. Maybe we should put up with his lies and let him do whatever he’s planning. Does it really matter? As long as we get what’s necessary, who really cares what he’s up to?’
‘We will,’ I answered. ‘We will care if his plans mean that our people end up getting hurt.’
‘Who says that will happen?’ Julian countered. ‘Why would it be necessary to hurt anyone?’
‘Why would it be necessary to lie?’ Monroe cracked his knuckles. ‘Let’s not forget that he tried to kill Charlotte.’
‘We have no proof of that. We don’t have proof that he’s responsible for the fire. I agree that the man is untrustworthy and unlikeable but,’ Julian shrugged, ‘I don’t think we have any choice but to go along with him.’
My eyes met Monroe’s. Julian was right: for now we didn’t have any choice. That didn’t mean things would stay th
at way. I ran my hands through my hair. ‘I’m going to find Julie,’ I said, ‘and see what she says.’
‘No prizes for guessing where she’ll be,’ Cath said.
I gave her a sad smile.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Carter was stocking the shelves when I entered the Blood and Bones. It was interesting that Barrett had brought in things such as booze and chocolate, which we didn’t actually need, instead of focusing on basic supplies. He was offering luxuries instead of staples. The man had a keen grasp of what would cause the biggest impact and what would win over hearts and minds – at least temporarily.
Clearly everyone was off enjoying their new bounty. As expected, the only customer in the bar was Julie. I settled onto the bar stool next to her. She raised her glass. ‘The enchantress has arrived.’
‘Hey.’ I saw the faintly glazed look in her eyes and bit back an admonishment. It wouldn’t do any good – especially when I was about to down several shots of strong alcohol myself.
‘I’m glad to see that you’ve not been taken in by the grand speech, darling,’ Julie said. ‘He does have an incredibly slick tongue.’ She toyed with her glass. ‘It depresses me to think that I once considered him as a potential partner.’ She tutted. ‘I used to have higher standards.’
‘You said you were going to get your own back on him. Have you come up with any plans?’
She laughed, although there was a sour edge to it. ‘What can I do? I can’t hurt him. We need him to bring in food or, frankly, we’re all fucked.’
It was a rare occasion when Julie swore. I gave her a concerned look, which she brushed away with a shrug. ‘Don’t worry about me, darling. Maybe I’ll think of something worthwhile that won’t upset the proverbial apple cart so much that he’ll refuse to bring in any more supplies.’
‘I don’t think that’ll happen,’ I told her.
Manchester was a fairly large city with an incredibly reduced population. There had already been people in here without our knowledge. If Fab Barrett had wanted to enter the city, he could have done so without involving us. The fact that he’d made a big song and dance and gone to the trouble of drafting in carrier pigeons was enough to give me pause. Yes, we desperately needed him if we were going to stay here but I was starting to think that perhaps he needed us too. The trouble was that I couldn’t work out why.
Julie waved her hand. ‘Que sera sera.’
I let out a mild snort. She didn’t mean that. Julie was someone who made things happen; she didn’t sit back and let them happen to her.
From my backpack, Lucy squeaked. Unsurprisingly, she was growing tired of being cooped up in there all the time. I swung the bag off my shoulders and gently drew her out, dropping her on top of the bar.
Carter, who had just finished pouring me a drink, eyed her. ‘She’s bigger than before. She grows fast.’
Her little mouth opened and her tongue lolled out, puppy-dog fashion.
‘I won’t put anyone in danger,’ I said defensively. ‘If she grows too big or she starts to act aggressively, I’ll deal with it.’
Carter’s eyes met mine. His expression was deadly serious. ‘I know you will. We all know you will. You have that sort of heart.’
Julie drained her drink and got to her feet. ‘Unlike me, you mean,’ she said shortly. ‘I’m just the vampire bitch who almost killed off the world.’ Her sour tone made me cringe.
‘That’s in the past now,’ I said.
‘Yeah, yeah.’ She turned round, wobbling slightly, and teetered towards the door. ‘I’m going home,’ she said over her shoulder. ‘I’ve got a better stash of gin than this place.’
I pursed my lips as she exited. A few days ago her mood had been buoyant but now she was definitely in the doldrums.
‘Too much alcohol can mess with your emotions,’ Carter said quietly.
‘You could stop serving her,’ I pointed out.
‘So she can lock herself in her house and drink herself to death instead? How is that any better?’
‘She’s not a bad person. She’s just done some bad things.’
Carter sighed. ‘I realise that.’ He scratched Lucy under her chin. ‘She nearly caused a worldwide apocalypse. She’s no saint.’
‘None of us are.’
‘No.’ Carter picked up a dishcloth and polished a glass. ‘She’s your friend and you stick up for her and that’s admirable. Would you say the same thing about Fabian Barrett, though? That he’s done some bad things? You don’t have proof of what he’s done.’
For a moment, I didn’t answer. I dropped my gaze, studying the wooden bar top. ‘Do you think I’m too critical of him?’ I asked.
‘That’s not what I said.’
‘Yeah, but…’ I was prevented from finishing my sentence when the door to the bar opened. This time it wasn’t a vampire. I gaped as a hazmat-suited figure stomped in, swept a long look around and then heaved himself onto the bar stool which Julie had just vacated.
I stared at Boyce. I wasn’t the only one; Carter looked as astonished as I did.
‘Got any beer?’ Boyce grunted.
Carter didn’t answer. Boyce’s face contorted. He reached up, fumbled at his hazmat helmet with clumsy gloved hands and yanked it off, dropping it next to Lucy. She immediately scuttled over to investigate it. I couldn’t take my eyes off him.
‘I said,’ he repeated, ‘got any beer?’
‘Sure.’ Carter flashed him an insincere, fanged smile. ‘Homebrew alright?’
‘Fine.’ Boyce tugged at his gloves, easing them off his large hands.
I looked him over. Without the hazmat visor, he seemed younger. His hair was shorn close to his skull in a buzzcut that did very little for him, and there was a nasty scar on his neck that gave him a brutish air. But somehow he was also now more human.
He finally succeeded in removing his gloves and ran his hands over his scalp. Then he turned to me. ‘Are you finished?’ he enquired.
‘I think,’ I said, finally finding my voice, ‘I’m just getting started.’ I squinted at him. ‘Aren’t you afraid you’ll be tainted by the magic?’
The corners of his mouth turned up in what was meant to be a smile. It didn’t look like an expression he was used to. ‘You must have realised by now that the suits are nothing more than a front.’
Carter placed a pint of beer in front of Boyce and stepped back, folding his arms across his chest.
The bodyguard reached forward and picked up the glass, eyeing it suspiciously. He took a cautious sip. ‘Actually,’ he said, ‘that doesn’t taste too bad.’
Carter and I exchanged brief glances. ‘If the suits don’t work,’ I said, ‘then why wear them?’
Boyce took another drink and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘First of all, without the supposed protection of the suits we can’t enter and exit the city at will.’
‘But if the suits don’t offer protection, you’re taking your contaminated selves back to the real world. You’re taking dangerous magic to a magic-less place.’ I dropped my voice. ‘You’re carrying the Plague.’
Boyce’s lip curled. ‘Dangerous magic. The Plague. There’s been a lot done to make you afraid of what is here, of what you are. It’s not worked.’ He gazed moodily into his pint glass. ‘Not yet, anyway.’
‘Why are you here, Boyce?’ I asked. ‘Why is Fab Barrett here?’
I wasn’t sure if he’d heard me or not. ‘You don’t understand what you have here,’ he said distantly. ‘You don’t understand how important all this is.’
I pressed ahead. ‘You mean the magic?’
‘What else?’ He gestured helplessly. ‘Just think of all its applications. One single army unit with magic at their fingertips could conquer the world. All it would take is careful use.’
A genuine chill ran down my spine. ‘That’s what he wants? Your boss wants to create magical soldiers?’
‘My boss wants money. And power. There’s no end to the possibilities that the magic h
ere offers him.’ He looked up, his eyes focusing on me. ‘You can’t trust him.’
That much I knew. ‘What’s he planning?’ I asked.
Boyce laughed harshly. ‘To rule the world. If he controls Manchester, he controls the magic. And if he controls the magic…’ His voice drifted off. ‘Maybe he won’t create an army with it. Maybe he’ll cure cancer. Maybe he’ll sell the magic to the highest bidder to do what they please with it. There’s nowhere on this planet – hell, there’s nowhere in this fucking galaxy – like this city. It’s not a powder keg, it’s a power keg. And Fabian fucking Barrett wants it all.’ He took another gulp of his beer. ‘I’m new to his team. If I’d known what was really going on, I’d never have joined.’
I eyed him. ‘So you’ve come here to tell me that?’
‘I’ve come here to have a drink.’
‘Barrett doesn’t know you’re here? Doesn’t know you’ve taken off your special white suit? Doesn’t know you’re blabbing all his secrets?’ I watched him carefully. Was this another ploy? And if it was, why?
Boyce shrugged enigmatically. ‘Maybe he does and maybe he doesn’t.’
‘You’ve not exactly been friendly until now,’ I told him. ‘Why are you so chatty all of a sudden? Why come here and tell us all this? You don’t strike me as the type to suddenly turn traitor.’
A muscle jerked in Boyce’s cheek. ‘I grew up not too far away from this very street,’ he said, as if that were supposed to be some kind of answer. He raised his glass up. ‘Chin-chin.’ He drained its contents and got to his feet, pulling his hazmat hood from where Lucy was sniffing at it then ramming it back over his head. He began shoving his hands into his gloves.
‘Wait,’ I said. ‘You can’t just waltz out of here. Boyce, you came here for a reason. Tell us more about what’s going on.’
‘I’ve told you what you need to know,’ he said. He didn’t look at me. ‘It’s up to you what you do with that information.’ He sniffed. ‘I’m going back to my nice, large, safe tent.’ He enunciated his words carefully then he turned and walked out of the bar.
