Nine's Legacy (Lorien Legacies: The Lost Files, Book 2)
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Number Nine—when John frees him from his cell in the Power of Xix, he's ferocious, reckless, and ready to fight back. But being held captive changes a person—even a Lorien. See what Nine was like before his capture, and read about his dramatic escape from his point of view.
In I Am Number Four: The Lost Files: Nine's Legacy: Nine's legacy, discover the story behind Nine. Before meeting John Smith, aka Number Four, before being held prisoner, Nine was hunting down Mogadorians in Chicago with his Cepan, Sandor. What happened there would change Nine forever. . . .
door, I hear the leader quietly chuckle. I’m not sure what’s funny about his squad getting their asses handed to them. At least he’s a good sport. I grab Maddy by the shoulders and pull her to her feet. Her hands fall to her sides and I can see that her face is ashen. Her eyes are red-rimmed and distant, totally checked out. I don’t even want to imagine what the Mogs did to shut her down like this. She’s deadweight in my arms. “Come on!” I shout, shaking her by the shoulders. And then
try to figure out how much the Mogs could know. They had my description, knew that I liked the lakefront, and guessed that we had some way to see them coming. What else could they know? How much did I tell Maddy about my life? Maddy. I look over at her. It had to be her. She was helping them. But why would she do that? And how long has it been going on? Did they get to her after the car chase? Coerce her somehow? Could she be one of them? I dismiss the last possibility—my iMog would have alerted
Almost. I am told the ground shook, that the skies were full of light and explosions. We were in that two-week period of the year when both moons hang on opposite sides of the horizon. It was a time of celebration, and the explosions were at first mistaken for fireworks. They were not. It was warm, a soft wind blew in from off the water. I am always told the weather: it was warm. There was a soft wind. I’ve never understood why that matters. What I remember most vividly is the way my
behind me. With a few quick keystrokes, Sandor deletes the video files, erasing my exploits from Chicago’s memory banks. When he’s finished with his hacking, there will be no evidence left of what I did this morning. Sandor swivels around to face me. “I get why you did it, dude. I really do.” My Cêpan peers at me, an array of frayed circuit boards and dismembered computer parts spread out on the desk between us. Stacks of unfinished or abandoned projects leave only a narrow path of floor
small and sharp for close combat rather than eating. This is why, until we are able to reveal ourselves, they are only rarely allowed to show their faces in daylight. So when I see the vat-born openly celebrating on the lawns of Ashwood Estates alongside their trueborn betters, I know something huge is happening. Ivan knows it too, and gives me a befuddled look as he skids to a stop in our cul-de-sac. I pull up beside him, catching my breath. All of the families of Ashwood Estates are in front