The Librarian: A Remnants of Magic Novel (The Librarian of Alexandria Book 2) by Casey White (read ebook pdf txt) 📕

He froze—and then lurched, gasping. From the corner of his vision, he saw Leon twist. “H-Hey. Are you-“

“Come,” Daniel croaked, shambling toward the window.  “Come on.” Not good.  Even in the quiet of the moment, with his limbs heavy and his senses confused, his thoughts raced ahead at full speed.  He didn’t know quite what was happening, but he knew it was not good.

Something very, very bad was about to happen.

Before he could so much as grasp the frame, though, a new sound split the silence.

An engine.  A car.  The noise grew closer and closer, seeming completely unbothered by the odd stillness, until it might have been right in the driveway.

And then the engine turned off, pitching them back into silence.

- Chapter Nine -

Daniel’s heart hammered in his chest.

He stood frozen in place, right opposite Leon.  Was he overreacting?  Was he reading too much into things?  Surely it was just a neighbor, coming home and pulling into their driveway.  That was all.

His ears still rang with the uncanny silence that had fallen over the house, though, and even the air he was breathing seemed...thicker.  Heavier.

“Hey,” Leon said.  “Hey, what’s-”

“Quiet,” Daniel breathed.  “Just...Listen.  Just for a moment.”

Whatever was coming, he needed to be sure that they took the right actions.  That they did the right things.  And if they really were coming face to face with Indira’s goons...his eyes darted over, settling on the gleaming square of light coming through the window.  If they were in trouble, then they’d run.

Leon squirmed, glancing around wildly.  “But- you said-”

“Leon.  Please.”  Daniel held a finger over his lips, and this time, Leon quieted himself.  Daniel didn’t move.  He hardly breathed.  Every scrap of his focus was poured into his hearing, into picking out the slightest scrap of sound.

And there, like fingernails scraping against a chalkboard at the very edge of his hearing, he heard someone rattle the front door.

The pulsing of his heart ramped up instantly.  “Shit,” he whispered.  “Fucking hell.  Okay, um.  Come on.  We can-”

“What is it?” Leon hissed.  “Owl, what’s-”

Daniel twisted, planting one finger over his lips as he reached his other hand toward the window.  “No.  Not- Not that.  Daniel, if you have to.  No names would be better.”

Leon, wide-eyed, clapped a hand over his mouth.  “Shit,” he said.  “Sorry.  What’s-”

“They’re coming,” Daniel mumbled.  “Indira’s people.  And mages.  Bad ones.”  As though there were good ones, his thoughts mused in an incredibly unhelpful fashion.

It got the job done, though.  What little color was left in Leon’s face drained away.  “S-So-”

Daniel silenced him with a look.  Whoever it was, they were rattling the door handle again.  “Is there a second entrance?” he whispered.  “A patio, or something?”

Leon blinked.  “There’s-”

The creak of the front door opening cut rang out impossibly-loud in the hushed room.  Leon stiffened, his words coming out a croak.

“Shit,” Daniel cursed, shooting a look toward the door.  They were in the house, now, which made the whole damn place a giant question mark.  There was no way Leon and him could go poking around looking for an exit when they might turn a corner and come face to face with a mage.

That only left one way.  “Come on,” he muttered, grabbing Leon’s wrist.  When he tugged, Leon followed.  Together, they crept toward the window.  Daniel grinned.  His eyes were glued to that square of early-morning sky.  Almost there.  They’d climb out, and make a run for the car, and then-

Only his finely-tuned instincts saved him, hovering right on the edge of ‘twitchy’.  With his hands fixed about the window frame and his knee already through the gap, he heard it—the sound of footsteps approaching from around the corner.  The sound of voices.  Getting closer.

Instinct alone pushed him back through the window, tumbling back into Leon’s room and fighting to keep his balance.  If he fell- if the intruders heard them in here-

Leon grabbed his shoulders, steadying him.  Daniel couldn’t even spare him the time for a thank-you.  They needed somewhere to hide.  Somewhere-

His gaze latched onto a shadowed nook, between Leon’s bed and a computer desk and tucked onto the same wall as the window.  The mounds of clothes piled around it would hide them. Probably.  It was the best they had.  Daniel hurled himself toward it without stopping to reconsider.

The window was still open.  The thought hung in his mind, a morose reminder that he’d still fucked up.  That they were still vulnerable.

And then they were down, with the warm of Leon’s side pressed tight against his, and Daniel dragged half the mess of blankets off the bed and over them.

Because he could hear it, now.  The footsteps.  They were loud enough to pick out even over the pounding of his heart in his ears.

“I told you.  There’s nothing here.”

Leon twitched alongside him as the voice drifted in through the window.  Daniel nudged him with his knee, and he steadied, but...they were riding right on the edge, here.

Stay quiet, he implored silently.  Keep it together.  Just for a little while longer.

“I know,” someone else muttered.  “Rickard wanted us to check, though.”

“If Rickard cares so much, then he can-”

“Hey.”

A shiver ran down Daniel’s spine.  The speaker’s voice had changed, taking on a contemplative note.  There was no question in his mind what he’d seen—something he got confirmation of a scant few moments later.

“The window’s open,” the second man said.

“So?”

“So, it’s fuckin’ cold out here still.  It’s weird.”

More footsteps—punctuated by the crunch of grass and gravel.  The light coming through the window flickered, as though blocked by something.  Or someone.  If he turned now, what would he find?  Was the man even then sticking his head through the window, examining the room for their quarry?

Daniel just ducked his chin against his chest, trying to make himself invisible.  Hell, if he could make both of them invisible, he’d do it.

A bead of sweat began its long, slow roll down his back.  He counted the seconds of silence, all too aware of the fact