The Librarian: A Remnants of Magic Novel (The Librarian of Alexandria Book 2) Casey White (books for 6 year olds to read themselves TXT) 📖

The dark-haired man hesitated another moment, glancing to the still-simmering chaos ahead, but hurried in before Rickard could lay into him.

Through it all, the stormy-faced tracker lurked in the back alley, his arms folded across his chest. He stared at Rickard, unmoving. A curl of smoke drifted up from his cigarette.

Another screech of metal rang out from the front of the front of the garage. Maya’s car was moving—but not before the doors opened. Two figures burst from within, vanishing from view just as quickly. With a squeal of tires, Maya took off again.

Godspeed, Daniel willed, watching her go. His eyes lingered on the spot where the two figures had vanished.

They’d realized the tracker was nowhere to be found, then. And here Leon and James were, on the ground and in the middle of the fighting. Exactly where he hadn’t wanted them.

Even though it hurt, he tore his eyes from the distant alley-mouth, turning back toward Rickard’s group.

A flicker of movement passed in front of him. Olivia lunged for the pile of debris, scooping up a second group, and darted ahead.

“Olivia!” Daniel hissed, lurching after her.

In a second, he was back looking down at the clustered mages.

Tires screamed. He twisted, just in time to see her slam into someone—someone carrying a rifle.

His heart in his throat, Daniel watched the rifleman sail through the air, there and gone. He...He was dead. He had to be. Maya had killed him.

Because you asked her to. Because you brought them here. It’s more blood on your hands, more-

Daniel shook his head, clapping a hand over his mouth. Acid roiled in his throat.

“Was that-” he heard Rickard snap, followed by a muffled curse. “Janik!”

The hiss of something exploding split the night air, like a soda can bursting under pressure. Smoke erupted to fill the alley in an instant, swirling in thick and hazy clouds of violet.

“Go help,” Rickard hissed.

Daniel flinched at the venom in his voice, glancing down.

Rickard had closed the gap between him and the tracker, his finger hovering in front of the man’s nose. “I don’t know why you’re still standing here. We’re-”

He stopped as the tracker lifted a hand, taking the cigarette from his lips. “Did my job,” the gravelly-voiced man said. “This shit’s your problem.”

“Even our damn brewer’s fighting,” Rickard spat. The smoke billowed around him, starting to turn his outline to a vague silhouette. “If he’s in there, the least you can do is-”

“I’m a finder, not a fighter,” the tracker said. Even through the building haze, Daniel could see the disdain in his shadowed eyes. “You ain’t payin’ me to die for you.”

“But-”

“Help ‘im yourself, if you’re so desperate.” With that, the tracker took another puff. Glowing cinders fell from the end of the cigarette. The smoke faded into the clouds, disappearing entirely.

Rickard froze, his hand still uselessly pointed at the man’s nose. “God damn it,” he hissed. “Then do your damn job! Find him!”

He spun on his heel, throwing himself toward the back door. As he vanished from sight, Daniel saw him pull his jacket open—and the accompanying glint of silver as his gun came free.

And then Rickard vanished into the garage.

This is your chance, Daniel’s thoughts sang. His eyes fixed onto the tracker. The bastard was just standing there, so casual. So alone.

Before he knew what he was doing, he’d stooped to the concrete beneath, grabbing a hunk of rubble.

This was why they were here, after all. If they took out the tracker, they could escape. No one could pursue them. It’d be over.

Alexandria would be safe. For her sake, he’d do what he had to.

It’s now or never. Bracing himself, he brought his arm back, and-

His leg buckled beneath him. He gasped, biting off the sound, and fought for control of the concrete-and-stone hunk.

He’d always kept his outside-world body in good shape. All he had to do inside Alex’s walls was sit around and study, after all—so he’d stayed moving outside. What else was he going to do, study more? All of which left him decently strong, with decent coordination.

But all of that had been before someone put a bullet through his calf and then trucked him around the country for hours on end, stitching him back up in a motel room. The chunk of concrete was already leaving his fingers when his legs went limp.

No. Straining hard, he fought for control, for even a scrap of direction over his missile. With one last scrape against his fingertips, the debris left his grasp.

The sight of it slamming into the tracker’s face was impossibly, unbearably sweet. The man went down with an ungraceful grunt.

But so did Daniel. Carried forward by the momentum of his throw and his own body’s weight, he slumped over the half-wall, teetering madly.

Crap. His fingers scrabbled against the ledge, fighting for purchase.

He did manage to slow himself. Twisting in a tangled mess of arms and legs, he hung for a moment, suspended in midair.

And then he crashed down into the ground like a sack of potatoes.

The air left his lungs in a rush. Daniel sagged, gasping for breath. The gunshots filling the air were almost constant, now, but he could still hear Maya’s engine roaring off in the distance. Across the tiny parking lot, he saw the tracker twitching, struggling to raise himself to his elbows. Blood ran down his face.

Olivia hit the ground beside Daniel with a grunt. She stumbled for a moment, her arms flailing wildly, but recovered—and darted straight for the downed mage.

He saw her coming. His mouth opened, ready to scream for...something. Help. A curse.

She still had that brick in her hand, though, and she was faster. Her arm swung up.

Daniel’s eyes snapped away as the sickening, wet crack echoed across the lot.

Panting for breath, Olivia straightened, letting the red-stained brick drop from her grasp. Her eyes were wild.

And the tracker wasn’t moving anymore.

For a moment, Daniel stared down at the unmoving body of the mage. Triumph and disgust warred in his