"Tyson, screaming at it isn't gonna give you service." I state with an eye roll.

Tyson examines his useless phone. "I'm supposed to call the real estate agent, before we get there." He sighs annoyed.

"Relax, we can always use those can phone's like in those old cartoons." I say.

I cup one hand over my ear and reach over cupping the other over his ear.

"Tyson, do you copy?" I nearly yell.

His glare makes me drop my hands into my lap and huff a breath through my nose.

"Just...stop...trying to make jokes. Comedies not your strong suit." He says with an eye roll and wave of the hand.

"Well." I scoff turning toward the window. "Tell me how you really feel why don't ya?" I mutter under my breath.

Scew him, I thought it was funny.

At least I can maintain some humor after six days in this god forsaken car.

Not to mention my ipod dying at day three, causing me to spend the last three days being tortured by the classical music station.

'It strengthens your brain' Tyson told me.

Yeah, and kills your spirit.

Tyson digs around under the seat, one hand on the wheel as he tried to find his phone charger.

I took in my surroundings as we passed the 'welcome to beacon hills' sign.

Yeah hot and sunny California my ass.

I think to myself as we pass nothing but trees and fog and cloudy skies.

No, suntans, no beach, no boardwalk, no California.

And what the hell is that greasy fat fried dinner that we're pulling up in front of like were gonna go inside.

"Hey look at that nix, a real old time dinner." Tyson said pointing to it.

I snort.

"Don't snort at me." He scolded.

"I didn't snort im simply getting use to all this California air." I defend.

"Realy?" He says unimpressed.

"Mmhhmm. It's not like new york, way too many trees and clean air. maybe I should go suck on the tail pipe for a minute or two.." I tail off with a sarcastic smile.

Tyson face palms.

"Phoenix, please. It's not gonna be forever."

"It never is." I snark back.

"But!" He continues.

"I need you to be on your best behavior, I have an old friend here who might be able to help us out for awhile, and that means laying low, not causing trouble and watching your temper."

He says pointedly.

I sigh throwing my hands into the air. "Fine. just consider me an angel." I jumped out of the car slamming the door shut behind me.

I heard tysons door shut behind me as I power walked into the dingy little dinner, tyson hot on my heels.

I pushed through the door, the chime signaling my arrival catching every ones attention in the small building.

I was probably a sight to see.

Ruby colored hair ombre blonde on the bottom half, twisted into a pony tail showing off my ear piercings and my tattoo on my neck.

Flawless porcelain skin on display from the lack of make-up.

High cheek bones, and a petite nose draw the eyes to my face.

Where they stay stuck on my large, liquid gold colored eyes rimmed in dark green, and full wine colored lips, those being my two prominent features.

I cross my arms over my chest causing my over sized sweat sweated to slip off one shoulder.

It was white with a black dream catcher printed on the front, matching my black and white tribal print leggings and black combat boots.

Tyson was the opposite of me, tan, with warm brown eyes and hair to match.

His brown hair hung in slight waves right to the top of his shoulders, and matched his five o clock shadow.

He hardly 'blended in' though with his worn out jeans, tight grey t-shirt, biker boots and leather trench coat.

He easily won your trust though, with those warm brown eyes, charming smile, and loric accent.

The loric accent sounded like something I would describe as French with a twinge of something else you can't quiet place.

Even after all these years it still hung heavy over his words.

Stranger still, I still had mine.

Well at least when I got mad, all my words would heat and slur together in a mix of loric flare and fury.

'Another reason to mind your temper!' Tyson would remind me.

Still, the difference in our features always put me alittle on edge.

Tyson was posing as my Dad, but what dad doesn't look anything like his daughter?

We always just said, I was a spitting image of my mother and got all my looks from her.

We could pull it off with our personalities, constantly budding heads like father and daughter, and holding our selves in the same manner.

Who Is Tyson really?

A warrior from my planet assigned to protect me.

My planet?

I just sound crazy now don't I?

Well allow me to explain.

I come from a gorgeous planet call Lorien.

Our people we're slip into two groups, the Lorien guard, and the cepon.

Year's ago our planet had started to die, much like earths global warming, and to stop the planets decay, we got rid of all out weapons and anything harmful.

As a result of that, some of our people developed powers, or what we call legacies in order to protect our planet.

Those people were the Lorien guard.

The cepon, were the people who didn't develop legacies, they ran the planet and trained us.

See, when a new guard is born were not raised by our parents, we live with our grandparents, and were assigned a cepon.

Tyson was assigned to me.

When we left we were almost to young to remember.

Almost.

In fact most of us don't remember anything from that day.

Or so Tyson had told me, but I do.

It sometimes terrorizes me in my dreams.

I remember the ground shook, and the sky was full of fire, and my feet were soaked in the blood of my people.

Only nine of us and our cepons got out alive.

The nine of us were special said to take on the rolls of our elders, the oldest and most powerful of our kind.

It took us a year to get here, I was five when we landed.

We were instructed to assimilate ourselves into the culture, to blend in and then return once Lorein was once again able to sustain life.

The nine of us had to scatter, go our own ways.

For how long? nobody knew. We still don't.

It was how we protected ourselves, the charm placed on us before we left only worked if we weren't together.

It guaranteed that we could only be killed in order of our numbers, but only if we were apart.

If we were to come together then the charm would be broken.

This charm also came with a warning system, when one of us died their symbol would burn itself into our ankles.

It let us know when we were next.

My first scar came when I was nine, The pain so unbearable that I screamed myself out of a dead sleep.

I don't sleep well anymore.

The second came when I was twelve, As soon as I felt that pain I knew what was happening It still hurt but it was bearable this time.

I was at the park and the searing heat from it lift the grass on fire around me.

We left that night.

The third scar came a week ago.

What could kill such powerful aliens? you might asks.

The same thing that kill the rest of our race.

The mogodorians.

Another alien race close in distance to our own, they took lorien for it's recourses we were told.

But if that were true, then why have they been hunting us down so desperately for twelve years after they already destroyed the planet?

I don't know...yet.

All I know is that they won't stop until were dead.

Every last one of us.

They caught number one in Malaysia.

Number two in England.

And number three in Kenya.

Number fours number is up.

I am number five, and my time is coming soon.

...

A/N!

Hey guys!

So I stared writing Aliens and Alphas along time ago and didn't like how it was going and I deleted it, I got the inspiration for an even better version of this story, and started to write it!

This is the introduction chapter and you guys get to tell me if you think I should continue or not!

I hope you like it!

Thanks!