Ethan Sullivan, Master Vampire of Cadogan House, is an asshole. I hate him. I love him. I’m annoyed with him and yet kind of attracted to him, too, which is disturbing on many levels, since he is not only undead and -- as mentioned -- an asshole, but he resides only within the pages of Chloe’s Neill’s Chicagoland Vampires books. Heaven forfend that I would actually meet such a man in real life, since I would most likely stake him in the space of one conversation. (Arrogant, unfeeling, egotistical, calculating, cynical and stupid… man! Grumble, grumble, grumble.)

You know who I don’t hate? Merit. Merit is our heroine, and a fine one she is. Once a scholar and a bit of a shut-in, she was turned by aforesaid asshole, Ethan, when on the brink of death in her first adventure, 2009’s Some Girls Bite. Neill’s vampire mythology states that vampire neophytes can only be turned by Master bloodsuckers (of which Ethan is one), often ancient and mightily powerful lords and ladies of the night who bind their vassals to them with telepathy, tradition and ruthless manipulation, refusing to be gainsaid and expecting total obedience and deference. There are thirteen Houses in the US -- with three based in Chicago, where we lay our scene -- and each is only permitted a very limited number of new members each year. There are vamps who exist outside the House system, the rebels, and no wonder: I’m sure I’d be one of them. I have never done well with authority, and the autocratic control these Masters exert is little short of total; seriously, unless you’re a Master of a House, you don’t even get to have a last name! (Or, in Merit’s case, a first… of which, more anon.)

Merit doesn’t do so well with the unquestioning compliance either, and that is half of her appeal. Where Ethan is all “Jump!” and everyone else is all “Yes, my liege, you rock my liege!” (seriously, they call him liege), she’s a little more: “Uh, why? Jumping doesn’t seem like a very efficient use of my time. Uh… Liege.”

The two had an instant attraction and antagonism from the beginning -- the kind of Moonlighting-esque backbiting that can only lead to tempestuous romancin’ of the on-again, off-again kind. In this, Merit’s third outing, their unresolved sexual tension finally gets some resolution, but not for long because Ethan acts like a complete and utter jerk, in that way that guys in books often do when some conflict is needed -- ‘cause no one can be too happy in the middle of a book, it’s like a law -- and then a rival for his affections comes to town and he expects Merit to still act as his bodyguard and Sentinel of the House (oh, yeah, she’s this super-powerful, kinda schizophrenic warrior vampire), and he’s just this total douchebag without a single regard for her feelings or reputation. (Did I mention I hate him?)

And then there are the werewolves.

You know, I don’t mind a werewolf story. MaryJanice Davidson’s Wyndham clan are particular favorites, but I also dig on Carrie Vaughn’s were-talk show host Kitty Norville. But in the main -- particularly in vampire series -- werewolves do nothing but cause trouble. Think Sookie Stackhouse, or Anita Blake. They’re just these hot-blooded, unreasonable and often speciesist jackasses who either want to sleep with our heroine or kill her man (or both), whose notions of trial by combat are just gruesome and whose whole submission unto the Alpha ethos is again annoying to anyone with an independent streak.

Neill doesn’t give us much new in that regard, except that her shifters (not just the wolves, but weres of all kinds) are under the sway of an even more powerful entity than a mere Alpha; the Apex. He is in charge of every shifter in the entire country, and while the were-community is run on far more democratic lines than the vampire one, it is still irksomely dictatorial and has this whole feudal deal that made me want to run out and vote in an election -- any election; I’d have even settled for an opinion poll -- immediately. The Apex and his minions are in town to settle the question of whether the shifters should reveal themselves to the human world; vampires have recently come out and this action has proven to have been misguided at best. The fact that it was undertaken by a sociopathic narcissist who really hates our Merit aside, Neill’s parallel Now just wasn’t ready for immortals who snack on blood (which makes her take in the issue rather more realistic than many in the genre) and it seems a war is brewing. The weres need to decide if they’ll join their fellow supernaturals in the struggle or abandon them to their fate.

Despite my tendency toward the antiestablishmentarian, I like this Apex fellow. His name is Gabriel, and he sounds super-hot, plus he’s a family man and dedicated to his nationwide Pack and can see the future. I also like the conflict with the werewolves -- it all very exciting -- and I even like the mystery that surrounds their summit, cutely named ConPack. (Although anyone who can’t pick out our bad guy about a second and a half after meeting him has clearly never read a book ever.) Also to like in here: Merit is invited to join the super secret Red Guard, a kind of internal affairs watchdog body for vampires, and we find out Merit’s first name. (It’s not that bad; I have no idea what she’s been fretting about all this time.)

In fact, I pretty much just like this whole book, and I think more than anything that is because I like Merit. While there’s more than an element of the Mary Sue about her (almost every guy in the series develops the hots for her -- even the married ones; she’s an accomplished dancer and scholar and warrior, and also the scion of a wealthy society family), she is also resplendent in her many adorable foibles and insecurities. She has a goodly sense of humor, courtesy of Neill’s sparkling first-person prose (which she infuses with charming self-referentiality: “It was a fabulous outfit, but it was so urban-fantasy book cover” -- Merit is, indeed, wearing said fabulous outfit on the book cover), is tough and fair-minded and doesn’t take a lot of nonsense from her douchey Master.

In fact, there were really only two aspects I struggled with in this book. One, the painful friendship breakdown between Merit and bosom bow Mallory (mainly because it came across as so real that it brought to mind a few such breakdowns of my own); and two, speaking of Mal, I continue to have an issue with the magic stuff. Magic, as so much else, isn’t adequately explained in Neill’s world, but it’s some kind of Potter/Force hybrid, and Mallory is big with the Hogwarts-worthy midichlorians. She and ass-kicking magical boyfriend Catcher -- I want one! -- are fun and all, but I hope the next book will bring their wizardry into a little more focus. ‘Cause for now it’s just kind of there, vague and plot devicey, but not especially essential.

Regardless of this slight caveat, I recommend this book -- and the two preceding it -- as immensely enjoyable Urban Fantasy. If you haven’t met Merit yet, then I encourage you to make her acquaintance; she’s not perfect, by any means, and neither is her story or her world. But they are interesting and introduce some original new elements, which is an even rarer quality. Especially in this genre.

  -- Rachel Hyland

FURTHER READING

Dead and Doing It, a guide to 20 vampire romance series, by Rachel Hyland and Kate Nagy, Issue 4 (with a contribution from Chloe Neill)