The Last Hunter - Ascent (Book 3 of the Antarktos Saga) Read Online Free PDF

nearly turns me around, but I’m too close to turn back. I slowly poke my head out around the bend—
    —and instantly wish I hadn’t.
     
     
     
     
    5
     
    The thing has its back to me, so I can’t see its face, but the full head of red hair tells me this is a Nephilim. I expected as much—this place was designed to hold Nephilim—but the sight makes my insides twist with fear. It’s crouched at the flat stone shore of a large lake. Or an ocean. I can’t really tell because the orange liquid stretches to the horizon.
    I duck away, breathing hard. There is nothing I fear more than the Nephilim. I have fought them. Killed them. But they broke me. Made me serve them. Respect them. Maybe even love them. And the remote possibility that I could be bent in that direction again horrifies me.
    But could it happen here? In Tartarus?
    I’m not sure, but if it did, I would regret it for all eternity.
    In a flash, my course of action is reversed. I need to get away from this Nephilim. Bearing my burden on my own is hard enough. I take a step away from the lake and am stopped in my tracks by a high-pitched squeal. The dismantled creature is still alive, and shrieking in pain with its last breath.
    A wet pop silences the creature.
    Its heart has been crushed. I close my eyes. The poor thing.
    A wail rips through the air. It’s tortured, like the small creature’s final scream, but louder and full of something else.
    Anger.
    Rage.
    Confusion.
    The tone and pitch of the voice fills me with a strange kind of understanding. The thing around the bend doesn’t want to kill. It’s compelled to. And it’s tortured by that compulsion. This realization makes me reevaluate the situation. I gasp as a detail flies in the face of my assumptions.
    The red hair coupled with the fact that this is Tartarus made me assume the killer is a Nephilim. But the height is all wrong. It—he—didn’t look much bigger than me.
    He’s human, I think. A hunter. But why would another hunter be here in Tartarus?
    Before I think too much about it, I slide back to the bend and take a peek. He’s still there, crouched by the water, but he’s not moving and his head is turned to the side slightly. Listening. To me.
    He heard my gasp.
    I’m sure of it.
    There is no turning back now. No running. My only hope to avoid conflict is to make the first move a peaceful one.
    I step out from hiding, doing my best to stand up straight and look tough. But my words are soft spoken and kind. “Are you all right?”
    The question sounds ridiculous as it floats through the air. He sniffs with a single sharp intake of air. Is he smelling me? Or just surprised by my voice? Or my words?
    “Do you need help?” I say.
    The man’s head spins toward me in a blur. Long tendrils of red hair whip around his face, concealing it from me. “Help!” he screams, sounding both offended and desperate. “Help!”
    Then his hair falls away and I see his face.
    My face.
    “Ull?” The word flies from my mouth. Revulsion spreads through my body like thick, rotting syrup.
    He’s just as surprised as I am. “Solomon!” He falls backward and crab-crawls away from me until his hand slashes into the liquid lake. He screams in pain, lifting his now smoldering hand from the liquid. Not water.
    Confusion sweeps across Ull’s face, as I’m sure it does mine. This is a physical world. Ull has only ever existed in my mind. He’s an aspect of my personality, not a living, breathing person. This makes no sense.
    But he’s still me. A part of me. And what he’s doing is vile. “Why are you killing these creatures?” I ask.
    He shakes his head quickly, eyes darting back and forth. He looks at everything but me. His breathing speeds up. He grinds his teeth.
    “Ull!” I shout.
    “Can’t…stop!” he screams. The shaking grows worse, like he’s about to explode. “Don’t…want…this!”
    “Ull,” I say, feeling compassion for the violent me.
    “Don’t…want…to kill…”