A.N.

Hey everybody, DN here. This might be the last upload for a little bit, but I don't want to count it out just yet. I'm going to Job Corps in Guthrie, Oklahoma, and the Tech situation might be different than here in Texas. In any case, I Am Number Three will go on, and will finish before December 31, 2015.

A big thanks to Arctica Caerulea, who is now my co-author for the rest of this book and the whole of Book Two, which will be released as soon as the first three chapters are ready. As I type this, Arctica is working on the Prologue.

Now, to shoutouts.

I Love Trunks: Hopefully you wont have to wait too long. And you never know. But all will be revealed in due time.

Leaning Leon: Verbal castration indeed, my friend. Loric and Human pressure points will be vital (excuse the pun) in the upcoming books, most likely. It certainly doesn't hurt to know about them.

Arctica Caerulea: No problem. And my chapters aren't always good. You should've seen my first works. Horrible. And yeah, "barter" was borrowed from the book. By the way, how's the challenge coming? Figure everything out with the songs and their respective characters?

A.C Awesome: Thanks for the support. Whenever you can review is welcome.

Anyways, enjoy the chapter, everyone.

Three

"Of all the irresponsible, idiotic, imbecilic things to do!"

Henri is quiet when we get inside, but that doesnt last long. The minute Four and Mark are safe upstairs, he drags us downstairs by the hair and sets us in the kitchen chairs roughly.

Adam and I wince with each word that Henri says, bearing the brunt of his wrath.

He turns to me. "What the hell were you thinking, Three? How many powers did you all use tonight?" Henri rubs his forehead. "Don't answer either of those."

"Henri," Adam says cautiously. "We really didn't have much of a choice in the matter except to fight. Mark James had attacked us, kidnapped Sarah and Sam, and-"

I place my hand on Adam's shoulder, quieting him. "What he means, Henri, is that if we didn't do anything, Mark James would have kept on until he beat us into submission."

"So you decided to beat him into submission first, is that it Three?" Henri counters, fuming. "You're Garde, not some damn vigilante. You need to act like it, otherwise you'll end up dead faster than you can say "Pittacus Lore". You were sent to this planet so you can protect humans, not so you can beat the shit out of them, Three. Maybe you should remember that."

Adam shakes his head slowly. "Henri, you're forgetting something."

Henri turns to Adam, his nostrils flaring in anger. "And what might that be, Adamus? The fact that I'm not your guardian?"

"Uh... no." Adam says. "I'm Mogadorian, not Loric."

Henri shakes his head, clenching his fists as he tries to control his rage. "As far as I'm concerned, you're able to use Loric Legacies and Inheritances. If One is inside your mind, then that qualifies you as Loric, even just a little bit. Therefore, as the only Cepan around, I'm qualified to say whatever the hell I want to you. You're Loric for as long as you can use our powers and technology. Act like it."

Adam nods, blank faced. "Yes sir," he mutters.

Henri leans back, shaking his head slowly. "Lets go see how they're doing."

/\/\/\/\/\/\

Upstairs, Mark and Four lay on mine and Henri's bed, across the hall from each other. We check on Mark James first, who is sleeping soundly now that colour has returned to his face. There's a purple ring around his neck, evidence that Four tired to kill him. Other than that, there seems to be no physical proof that we were ever in a fight.

"Three, I want you to keep an eye on Mark and Four for tonight." Henri says. "Adam, I want you and One to heal everyone that you fought tonight. No bruises, no marks, not a scratch. Understand?"

Adam nods. "Yes."

"Good. The last thing we need is this getting out." Henri leaves Adam and I alone, myself sitting in the chair beside the bed, Adam and One working together to heal the football captain.

I look at Mark James, then to Adam, with his palms outstretched over the jock's chest. "What's One say?" I ask.

"Three," Adam says exasperated, "I really don't care. Go look after Four." His eyes are tinged purple, and his voice sounds like it echoes. "We're not in the mood to deal with you."

"God, Adamus," I retort. "What crawled up your ass and died?"

Adam stops, lifts his hands from Mark's body, and growls. Clenching his fists, Adamus turns slowly, fire gleaming in his blue and purple eyes. "My problem?" He asks. "You want to know what my problem is, Three?" Adam spits. "My problem is your reckless behavior. Yours and Four's. You two rush into action without thinking, risking exposing your powers and mine. Do you know what'll happen if the rest of my kind find us here? I'll tell you. You, Four, and Henri will die. Die. My father will kill you, cut off your heads, and present them to Setrakus Ra as a welcoming gift to Earth. And when he's finished with you, they'll execute me as a traitor to my kind. And guess what? If I die, so does One! So your kind loses not two, but three people to mine. Do you want that to happen?"

I blink, astonished. "What the hell? You know the answer to that, Adam."

"Really?" Adam shoots. "Then act like it. Tonight, you used Four's number. In front of civilians, Three! Talk about public endangerment! You want to survive? Act like it."

I'm speechless at how much Adam sounds like Makara, and all I can do is nod. "Yes sir," I say softly.

Adam turns back to Mark James, One's power flowing through his blood once more. Our talk finished, I turn and leave to sit in the hall between the rooms. Once Adam leaves to heal the rest of the football team, I take my chair and sit beside Mark Jame's sleeping figure. His peaceful slumber conceals the demon we all saw tonight, and I can't help but wonder if he really could be a demon in disguise.

"You're lucky our job is to protect you humans," I tell his immobile body. "Otherwise, Four would've killed you tonight. And you know what? I would have let him."

/\/\/\/\/\

Six

"Trick or Treat."

It's amazing how those three words, when spoken by a Mog, can chill you to the bone.

Three Mogs, pale, baldheaded behemoths with tattooed skulls, file into the ruins of Luna and Zayne's living room, their blasters at the ready. They scan the room before the lead looks at me and grins darkly. "Oops."

I curse inwardly for not keeping the blaster Luna gave me on my hip, then rise hastily from my spot in the now destroyed room. Strangely, I'm unharmed, but I don't have time to give it thought. With swift steps I bound past the Mogs, out the doorway behind them before they can react and into the night beyond. I jump fences and hurdle numerous bushes before I make it into the streets, panting yet alert. The Mogs have given chase, of course, and I hurry and turn down the nearest inlet as I run through my options in my mind.

I can't manipulate the weather tonight; the newscast called for clear skies and a full moon. Elemental manipulation is out of the question, there's too many houses around and it might be seen. Invisibility might help, but only if I can get away fast enough...

"You can't run forever, Loric bitch!" The Mog calls after me, his voice signaling his position behind me.

I cringe. Really? The obligatory villain line? They should've pulled out the villain's handbook while they were at it.

I make a turn, then stop and curse. I've run into an alley (I seem to be doing that a lot lately), to find a fifteen foot brick wall before me (I seem to be doing that a lot lately too). I should've paid more attention to where I was.

The Mogs stop behind me, their booted steps coming to a halt as they charge their blasters. "You're done, girl." The lead Mogs says. "I don't know what Number you are, but we know you can be hurt, so the charm must've been broken, because you sure as hell aren't Number Three.

I swallow as I weigh my options. I can go for my blaster, or try to, or I can try to summon lightning, though I doubt it would work.

The Mogs, blasters primes and ready, cackle wickedly as I back up against the brick wall at the end of the alley.

If only I had a few more seconds, I think solemnly. I might have been able to get away.

Blaster fire careens my way, aimed at my body and legs. Closer, closer the bolts get, time slowing to a halt as one final thought runs through my mind.

Thank you Luna, for everything.

The blaster fire resumes as I return to the real world, and right as I'm about to die, vanishes. It doesn't dissipate, nor does it reflect back. It just... vanishes.

"Huh?" The Mogs are not amused. Firing wave after wave of shots, each disappears in the same manner the first three did. I, however, remain unharmed.

"This was not in the briefing," one of the Mogs says, annoyed. "We were told she had no defensive abilities."

The lead Mog growls, then fires off something in Mogadorian to the other two, who drop their blasters in favor of knives. As they advance, a dark figure appears in the alleyway entrance, hands on their hips.

"You three at pathetic," it says, a female with a harsh, diamond voice. "She should've been dead by now."

The trio of skinheads whip around to face the newcomer, the lead Mog aiming his weapon at her chest. "Who the hell are you?" He asks sharply. Despite the opportunity, I don't dare move, wary of the new female.

"Whom indeed," the woman laughs. "You vatborn don't know anything about your history, do you?"

It's at that moment I gasp. I've met this woman before, I'm sure of it. That laugh, I know for sure. I rack my brain, trying to remember where I've heard her voice before.

The woman, now at gun and knifepoint, turns her back and slides down what looks to be dress straps from her shoulders to reveal what looks to be writing. Mogadorian writing.

"You idiots can read, can't you?" She says haughtily.

The vatborn peer intently at the writing on the woman's back before kneeling and touching their fists to their foreheads. "Your Highness," one whispers. "Our complete apologies. If this girl was not using whatever Legacy she was, she'd be disposed of by now. Please, forgive our incompetency, milady." The lead Mog says.

The woman dons her dress straps once more and turns to face the Mogs before her. "Save your excuses for those who care," She says coldly, sliding a glowing green dagger from a sheath on her thigh. "I certainly don't."

With blinding speed the Mog woman decapitates the lead vatborn, then stabs the remaining two in the throat and chest in quick succession. The three of them burst into ash as the Mog woman sheathes the weapon after cleaning it on her dress. "God, I hate doing that."

The voice of the Mog woman finally registers with me as she steps into the alleyway, revealing her identity. The only one that it could've been from the beginning, I just didn't want to believe it.

I choke, my blood boiling at the person standing before me. "Why?" I whisper, not daring to raise my voice. "Why?"

"Hello Maren," Luna says in her crystal-pure voice. "Sorry you had to see that."

Zayne approaches her from behind, setting his hand on her shoulder before tossing me a shiny, metallic object. I catch it mid-air with my mind, then look at it skeptically.

Keys. To Zayne's truck. On the keyring is a second set of keys,

"You should go, Maren." Zayne says softly. "You're not safe here."

I nod, never taking my eyes off Lunaka. "I know. What about you?"

"We'll be fine, Maren." Luna says softly. "We have other houses elsewhere in the states."

I finger the second set of keys. "Where do I go?"

"There's a preloaded destination in the truck's GPS. Lay low, and wait for a sign that the others are ready for you. You'll know it when you see it."

I nod slowly. "Okay."

"Go, Maren." Luna says softly. "Before the rest of them find you."

I need no more invitation. After this night, I'm ready to be as far away from this place as possible.

Sorry everyone, about the unfinished chapter you had to read. I uploaded on the road, so it was sorta an oversight for me. Anyways, here's the full chapter, and R&R.

Til next time,

DN