Deathwish

Deathwish (2009) Rob Thurman

Yeah, still can’t stop reading the Cal Leandros books. Deathwish is the fourth book, and even better than the previous three. Which are damned good.

Unlike the previous stories, in Deathwish, each chapter alternates between Cal and Niko’s point of view. In this I like not only the perspective of Cal from the outside, but of Niko’s thoughts both of himself and Cal (and Cal’s hero worship of him). It’s actually kind of nice, because not only do we Niko’s view of himself (which helps to offset SOME of Cal’s hero worship) we also see why Niko loves Cal so much.

And, as always, fabulous dialog and writing.

Here are some of Niko’s thoughts:

I kepy my eyes on my book as I tossed the dagger up into the air yet again and caught it blind. One: because it was good practice. You always know where your weapon is, whether you can see it or not. Always. Second: It annoyed Cal, as he couldn’t do it.

If I was a cold ideal, with every bit of compromise stripped away, then that was survival. If I were an abstract, that’s how it had to be. Never mind the things it made me wonder. As in, had Sophia won? As in, Outside honor, did I truly exist at all?

Then Cal punched me in the nose and, as a starburst of pain flared behind my eyes and I tasted blood, I decided that I did.

I think Niko’s memory of events in the first book once again goes to the heart of the relationship between the two.

There were no words.

I, who had read so many of them in my life, had no words for it. The blade slipping through the resistance of his flesh. The blood. On me, Cal’s blood, warm and flowing. Dripping from my hands to the floor. Red with a quick patter like rain. Images and sensations; I had those. So many. But no words. Words were defining, capturing. I didn’t want that moment defined. I only wanted it gone. Over a year later and I still just wanted it gone.

And of course, there is always Cal.

I ran a hand over the steering wheel, sighed, and got out of the car. Maybe a motorcycle. The great monster fighter cruising around on his hog… that wasn’t a cliche, no. Fine. I’d be a monster fighter who rose the bus. It didn’t get any more bad-ass than that.

Eyes still shut, Cal held up his forefinger and thumb as if his hand were a gun and pointed it at Robin, his aim unerring right between the eyes. “I’m a cranky asshole with a gun and superpowers, remember?”

I got up to check out the bathroom… “Shit!” I called out. Is there such a thing as a giant supernatural cockroach straight from the depths of hell?”

“No. Be a man and deal with it.”

I could’ve shot it. It was that big. I kicked it in the toilet and flushed. Three times. Then I returned to Cat Urine Central. “Okay. The world is safe for pissing again. Enjoy.”

Every book I read, I love this series more, and I’m having a hard time not grabbing the next book in the series as soon as a finish one. Mostly because there aren’t that many books in the series, and gobbling them down will make it go all the faster.
Rating: 9/10

Published by ROC

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