Silver Under Nightfall, by Rin Chupeco (Saga)
I grabbed this book on the strength of Chupeco’s previous
novel, The Bone Witch, which I enjoyed. The opening engaged me
immediately, with its world of constant friction between humans and vampires,
with their own internal divisions. The central character is Remy Pendergast,
elite bounty hunter of rogue vampires and social outcast, forced by his powerful
noble father to provide sexual favors to courtly ladies in exchange for secret information.
There’s so much potential there, with action, political tension, and a wounded
hero. But that’s not all, for a new breed of vampires arrives on stage,
infected with a toxic Rot that renders them impossible to kill, transforming
instead into unstoppable, immortal monstrosities.
I was right with Remy in the opening chapters. My heart went
out to him for his loveless life, his fighting prowess in the service of those
who neither know nor care for him, and his longing for approval. Then he’s off
on a quest to find the source of the Rot and a way to counter it, accompanying
a vampire princess and her fiancé. It’s soon evident there’s a great deal of
sexual tension all around, which leads to the inevitable intimacies. Many
readers will just love the intricacies of the characters, a polyamorous love
triad, vampires and more vampires, and a very cool medical mystery.
Alas, I wasn’t one of them. The author could have played on
the trope of vampirism as a metaphor for eroticism or explored how acceptance and
validation can aid in recovery from sexual abuse, or formed the basis for an
extraordinary, cooperative fighting unit. But for me, the book did none of
these things beyond token mention of Remy’s enduring PTSD and lots of bed
action once he gives in to his lovers. I felt as if I were reading two quite
different books, maybe more. The focus jumped around rather than finding a
resonance with each genre enhancing and mirroring the other. Still, I was
willing to keep reading, carried along by the strength of the opening and
concept.
About three-quarters through the book, when each event ought
to have jacked up the tension even more, the book ran out of steam. It felt to
me as if everything stopped. The three have escaped from the clutches of the
evil vampire and for the moment, all other threats recede while research goes
on. Then the city where they’ve taken refuge is about to be swarmed by yet more
mobs of Rot-infected vampires, Remy leaves, then changes his mind and comes
back. And so forth. All the elements were set up well before in terms of
mention but not in terms of emotional immediacy and growing-ever-closer,
escalating danger.
I was left puzzled as to the disconnect between the dynamic,
engaging beginning, and the piecemeal experience of the latter part of the
book. This was complicated by a serious challenge to my suspension of disbelief
regarding the ecology of vampires in this world. Various writers have tackled
the question of the minimum sustainable ratios of vampires to humans. While
their solutions vary, they all agree that there need to be quite a few more
humans than vampires, anywhere from 1 vampire per 15,000 to 1 per 100,000,
depending on how frequently vampires feed (and a bunch of other factors). I had
trouble wrapping my mind around the siege where hundreds or thousands of
vampires, original, newly turned, and Rot-infected, form a ravening horde. I
wonder if this is a case in which the author had already strained my credulity,
whereas if I had not had occasion to question the world-building, I might not
have had a problem with it.
As I said before, other readers may not have these issues,
but may instead love the complex world, polyamorous bisexual romance, and
action, not to mention vampires and a very nifty weapon called Breaker. If
these appeal to you, give the book a try.