The Last Hunter: Collected Edition (Antarktos Saga #1-5)

I feel Xin’s tension rise. What is it?

Merrill is himself, but his memories of you have been blocked. The change was put in place long ago, after Aimee was taken. He has not remembered you for some time.

How? I ask.

Gatherers sometimes initiate blocks on the people close to those they have abducted, especially if those people are in a position to uncover the truth about their loved one’s disappearance. Before the rise of Antarktos, secrecy was of the utmost importance to the Nephilim plot. Merrill must have been searching for you. You were removed from his mind.

Sorrow mixes with rage and leaves me feeling confused, but Xin’s grim prognosis isn’t completed yet.

It is likely they did the same to Mira...and your parents.

Sorrow takes a quick backseat to rage, and I have a very hard time keeping my reaction to this revelation from appearing on my face. I’m not sure what the general is saying, but I’m willing to bet an angry look on my face wouldn’t be the appropriate reaction.

But Aimee knew me this whole time, I think. How could she forget me so quickly?

Xin is quiet for a moment, and I know he is searching her mind now, too.

Her memories are similarly locked, Xin determines. But much more recently. The mental scarring is fresh.

Can you undo it? I ask.

With your help, yes. I will check the daughter’s memories as—

Something the general has just said pulls me out of my conversation with Xin. I use my perfect memory to replay his words.

“Now if you’ll kindly follow these men to the brig, we can all stay safe until we sort this out.”

I blink, back in the present conversation.

“Son, did you hear me?” he asks. “Did you hear a word I just said?”

“No,” I confess without thinking. My eyes wander to Merrill and then to Aimee. They look the same, confused and concerned, as they should be. My eyes go to Mira. She’s blinking oddly, twisting with discomfort.

Xin’s voice smashes into my mind along with a flood of emotions. It’s her! He shouts. The daughter!

The surge of emotion squeezes my eyes shut. It’s just for a moment, but when I open them again, Mira has freed her handgun and leveled it at my chest. And when she pulls the trigger, I am too stunned to even react.





32



The striking mechanism inside Mira’s handgun springs forward, connecting with a bullet. The gunpowder ignites, propelling the round out of the gun faster than the speed of the shot’s explosive report. Despite the differences in speed, it all seems to happen in the same fraction of a second, though the moment is dragged out as though moving through tree sap.

Pain stabs my ears as the gunshot reaches them. Then again and again.

Three rounds fired in quick succession.

An impact, like being punched hard, strikes my chest.

The world spins. I see blue sky. The wet, muddy earth of the trampled quad slaps against my back as I topple over.

Air rushes out of my lungs as something heavy pushes down on me.

For a moment, I’m dazed, but then my mind clears, the pain fades and I know without looking that I am not severely injured.

What happened? I think, looking down.

The weight on top of me. It’s Xin!

“Xin!” I shout, “Are you—”

He lifts his head slowly and looks into my eyes.

She is a shifter, he thinks. Not your Mira.

I look around him and see Mira with her hands raised. Several guards are taking the weapon from her hands. Several more think they are keeping Kainda and Em in place. Kat is the only thing holding them back. Merrill and Aimee look horrified, and honestly, so does the general.

I am sorry, Solomon, Xin thinks. Though he’s not speaking audibly, he sounds different. Distant. Mira is dead. Shifters—

I know, I think. Shifters kill the people they duplicate. They are an elusive tribe of Nephilim that I only recently encountered after returning from Tartarus. From what I understand, they have only recently returned to Antarctica as they spent most of their time among humanity, in disguise, causing strife, instigating fear and causing wars. They were, and perhaps still are, the trickster gods—Loki, Hermes, Asmodeus, Puck and the like—sons of the most notorious demon, Lucifer. The Devil himself. It is they, not the warriors, who are regarded as the most dangerous of Nephilim. They simply lack the numbers or desire to lead. They’re all about deception, and they excel at it.

You must kill her, Xin thinks. Avenge me.

Avenge you?

I am lost, he thinks, pushing himself up a little.

I look down and see a golf ball sized hole in his chest. The bullet must have struck his back and exited through his chest, missing me entirely. Red blood drips from his chest to mine.

I will last a little while longer, but I will not survive. You must kill her before she realizes her assassination attempt has failed.

Xin... Brother...