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

I hear a gasp in my ear. Kainda’s arms squeeze a little tighter. That this hardened woman can feel fear pleases me. She’d once been numb to anything but hate, and now, she is so much more. It’s one of the things I like best about her. The softening of one’s heart is not an easy thing to do. I’m not sure I could have done it myself without Aimee’s help.

Aimee, Mira’s mother, held me in her arms just moments after I was born. It was her face that greeted me into the world and her face that returned me to it. And now, Merrill, her husband and my friend, has returned to save her, only now they’ve lost their daughter. And the majority of that is my fault. All the more reason to hurry.

The wind becomes an upward moving cyclone. My long blond hair whips around, stinging my skin. The air tugs at my clothing, which is not much more than Tarzan’s loin cloth, a belt full of pouches, and Whipsnap—my weapon—wrapped around my waist, but a quick adjustment dulls the effect of the wind on our bodies.

My control over Antarctica’s elements is more honed than ever. I can control the air, water, land and other natural elements of the continent as though they are part of my own body. Performing an unnatural feat, like flying, still wears me out, but summoning a storm or shifting the wind is almost second nature. I don’t understand how I’m able to do these things. All I know is that my connection to the continent is a supernatural ability given to me at my birth, which was not too far from our current location. I was the first and only child born on Antarctica to non-Nephilim corrupted humans. That somehow bonded me to the land. Cronus, the Titan who resides in Tartarus, would probably say it was a gift, bestowed on me by a higher power. Actually, Adoel the angel would probably agree. And it’s hard to argue with powerful beings that are not only ancient, but also genuine.

I’ve thought a lot about this during my time here. Certain events and the connections between people, and beings, times and places stretching back through time are hard to ignore. On one hand are the Nephilim, soulless half-demon, half-human monsters who want to eradicate the human race. On the other hand is a ragtag group of redeemed hunters, teachers, Titans, clones and even a traitor Nephilim willing to sacrifice himself to protect humanity. This war has been waged for thousands of years and is coming to a head...because of me.

A kid.

Sure, in surface years, I might be thirty-something years old, and yeah, I have a full beard, but I’m really just an eighteen year old who wouldn’t be allowed to drink a beer.

And now, Nephil, aka Ophion, the first Nephilim whose spirit now resides in Ninnis, wants to claim my body for himself, something he came very close to doing. Now, the human race is looking to me for leadership against a supernatural army. And now, I’m doubting. Not in my purpose here. Or in my abilities. Or even in my ability to lead, or fight, and maybe even win.

But in the rightness of it all.

I’ve come to believe in God. I’ve even prayed. Twice. I’ve seen things, and spoken to creatures, and experienced other worlds that leaves no doubt that some kind of architect or mastermind is sitting behind the curtain, pulling our strings, directing us all to some sort of destiny. But there had to have been another way.

Billions died when Nephil used my body, and my connection to the land, to rotate the Earth’s crust around its molten core, bringing Antarctica to the equator and destroying entire countries in the process. And then there are the more personal losses: Elias, Xin, Hades, Cerberus, Wright—even Ninnis, whose memories of his true self were returned for just a moment before Nephil took over once again. And what about the hunters—Kainda, Em, Elias, Zuh, and thousands more who have been tortured, corrupted and turned into monsters? How can all of this darkness, and hate, and death be allowed?

And why do I have to be at the center of it all?

“Solomon!” The voice is faint, barely reaching my consciousness. Then it repeats, louder, “Solomon!” I recognize the voice. Kainda. I open my eyes, not realizing they’d been closed, and I see the cliff face, streaking past, just a few feet away. We’re traveling as fast as a missile and I’ve nearly crashed us into a rock wall.

I slow until we’re hovering. My breath is ragged. The first pangs of exhaustion clutch my muscles. Lost in my anger and confusion, my powers took on a life of their own, reflecting my mood.

“Are you alright?” Kainda asks.

I nod. It’s my second lie and I feel a pang of guilt. I don’t want to lie to Kainda, about anything. “Actually, I’m not sure.”

Before she can reply, I see the top of the cliff and forget all about my doubts and waning energy. “Look.”

I spin us around so we can both look at the cliff. We’re just thirty feet from the top, but the most remarkable aspect of the wall isn’t the rock, but what’s been built upon it.