Nine lies on his back, groaning. His chest is shredded from where Eight slashed him, he’s got a fresh black eye, and I think I notice a trickle of blood from where I struck him with his staff. Suddenly, his groans turn to laughter. “That was awesome!” Nine hollers.

She asks if I left a girlfriend behind when we moved. I say no, and she smiles, which just about ruins me.

You can let your anger destroy you, or you can use it for something.

Have you ever had something happen to you that there was simply no explanation for? That you can't chalk up to a coincidence, or an accident, or even fate?

I don't like bullies. No one has a right to take or to hurt just because they can.

In the beginning we were a group of nine. Three are gone, dead. There are six of us left. They are hunting us, and they won't stop until they've killed us all. I am Number Four. I know that I am next.

We break our huddle and Eight immediately transforms into one of his massive avatars. His handsome features melt away, replaced by the snarling face and golden mane of a lion. He grows to about twelve feet, ten arms sprouting out of his sides, each of them tipped with razor-sharp claws. Nine whistles through his teeth. 'Now we're talking,' Nine says. 'One of your parents must've been a chimæra. Probably your mom.