I Am Number Four Series Novels & Stories

I can’t stand the thought of never seeing her again. I can’t lose her. “Number sixteen,” I call out before my sense of reason can stop me, moving my finger to point directly at the red-haired woman. “I choose number sixteen.” A cacophony of voices rise in the audience behind me. “How dare you?!” April screams in the mind-link. “How could you choose that farmer girl bitch over me!” “April, I had no choice,” I tell her. Her insult to the woman has my wolf on edge.

I had not prepared for this. “How many?” He hesitated. Foolish boy. I have carried Red Moon longer than he has drawn breath. I bore him under Marcus’s roof and never flinched. Numbers do not undo me. “How many?” I repeated. “Four.” The word tolled through the chamber like both a wedding bell and a funeral knell. Four. Not one to secure a line. Not two to balance power. Four—enough corners to steady a house, enough edges to cut careless hands.

Vesper stands guard while I pull the book and press the switch. The shelf creaks open. The hidden door slides back just enough to let us through. But before we step in, they find us. The footsteps rush into the room from behind. Four of them, maybe five. One yells something in a language I don’t recognize, and the fight starts again. Gunfire explodes.

The car lurched to a stop. Before I could react, rough hands yanked the blindfold off with an abruptness that made me flinch. "Careful," I muttered, my voice unsteady despite my effort to sound indifferent. As my vision adjusted, I looked up and met the hollow, empty eyes of Number Four’s skull mask. “I’m already crippled—are you trying to make me blind too? That’d make me even less appealing to my wife.” Number Four let out a low chuckle, his amusement laced with something dark.

Never write it down. The answer came without trying. 4-12-7. Varek. 9-2-1. Is hiding. 14-8-3. What you are. Couldn't breathe. The last line. Come to the Neon Wards tonight. Staring at the dead man bleeding into the stone. Not Syris. Syris didn't know my father's knots. Nobody knew my father's knots except people from before. People from the life buried in Sector Four ten years ago. People who should not have existed anymore.

A smile spread across my lips as I walked up to them. “It's okay, please don't mind me, go about your normal duties,” I chirped. They seemed uneasy at first, but then they all felt somewhat relieved as they went about their activities. My eyes gazed across the room as I carefully inspected for cameras. There were four in total, one at the front, one at the back, one by the three huge freezers, and one at the center of the kitchen. It was no good; I knew it would be heavily guarded, but I really had no idea it would be to this extent.

Four different ways of loving me, each perfect in its own way. That evening, I was curled up in the sitting room with a book when the boys found me. “Room for four more?” Marcus asked, though they were already arranging themselves around me. “Always.” Darius settled behind me on the couch, pulling me back against his chest. Kael claimed the armrest beside me, his hand automatically finding my hair to play with. Marcus took the other end of the couch, my feet in his lap as his hands began massaging away the day’s tension. Zane positioned himself on the floor, leaning back against my legs.

one two three four five one two three four five one two three four five one two three four five one two three four five one two three four five one two three four five one two three four five one two three four five one two three four five one two three four five one two three four five one two three four five one two three four five one two three four five one two three four five one two three four five one two three four five one two three four five one two