chez_jae

Nightlife by Rob Thurman

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I brought my office book home last night to finish it. The book was Nightlife by Rob Thurman, and it's the first in the "Cal Leandros" urban fantasy series. The story is told in first-person pov by Cal...for the most part. Foreshadowing, dun dun dun!

Monsters live among us, and Cal would know. He is one. His mother was human, but his father was the stuff of nightmares. For the past four years, Cal and his older brother, Niko, have been on the run, trying to stay a step ahead of the monsters who will stop at nothing to reclaim Cal. Unfortunately, they can only run for so long, and Cal's past catches up to him in New York, where he learns he alone holds the key for an ancient, demonic race to take over the world. Cal has no intention of assisting them, but the choice is wrested from him when he is possessed by a male banshee, called the Darkling, who is working in conjunction with the Auphe to unleash hell on earth. Niko, however, will stop at nothing to get Cal back.

This book has been languishing on my shelf for about 15 years. There were times I almost purged it along with other books to be donated, but for some reason I hung onto it. Wow, am I glad I kept it! Reading it was a bit of a departure for me. I love urban fantasy, but I typically read about female protagonists. While it took me awhile to get into this (not helping that I only had about 20 minutes during my lunch hours to read it at all), once the story reeled me in, it had me utterly hooked. It wasn't enjoyable in the sense that a fun read is, but it was so compelling that I had to force myself not to drag it home sooner to finish.

Cal is a typical surly, lazy teenager who enjoys pestering Niko and twanging Nik's last nerve. Cal may have been the main character, but Niko could have starred as the hero in any other story. Although they are only half-brothers, he has been taking care of Cal most of his life. Niko is a warrior, proficient at martial arts and an accomplished swordsman. He's sacrificed everything for Cal and seems to think nothing of it. I would have loved to have read some of this in his point of view. The only allies the brothers have is a pretty young psychic (whom Cal admires), a lovely vampire (whom Niko admires), and Robin Goodfellow, the pan or puck of legend that Cal and Niko meet while shopping for a used car. He turned out to be the most staunch ally they had.

The lone low-point for me was when the Darkling took over Cal's body and from there, the first-person pov was in Darkling's pov, and it took up a third of the book. I think I wouldn't have minded as much if we were still getting some of Cal coming through. In fact, I would have loved it had Cal been in there, fighting like hell to regain control, but it was as if Cal ceased to exist. I didn't like it.

Favorite lines:
♦ Niko was such a Boy Scout, albeit one with a lethal turn and a Merit Badge in deadly weapons.
♦ "You know all good little ninjas should be in bed, visions of homicidal sugarplums dancing in their heads."
♦ I didn't comment on the large knife he slid under his pillow. We all have our security blankets in this world. Some are just sharper than others.

♦ "Denial, not just a river in Greece." I managed a halfway sincere grin as Niko's eyes all but crossed on that one. "Take it easy, Cyrano. I'm just kidding. Damn, you'd have made a great junior high teacher. Prim, proper, and anal as hell."
♦ She put a glass of cranberry juice in front of Niko and draped over his shoulder like a silicone-enhanced orange tabby. "Nikki," she purred, her breasts threatening to swallow his neck in a loving embrace. "I haven't seen you in weeks. I'll start to think you don't love and adore me." // My brother's eyes slid back toward her with all the resignation of a man on death row, then returned to me with a roiling wrath that would've dropped a charging boggle in its tracks.
♦ Niko kept pouring pretzels into a bowl, precisely to the rim, no less, no more. The Zen of pretzel arranging--it's long been a lost art. "Ah. The singer that time forgot. To be more exact, that the eighties forgot. His hair spray bill must be staggering." // "You've got a lot of room to talk, Rapunzel," Samuel pointed out. "You're not exactly going for the brush cut look yourself." // I grinned and reached over to tug on Niko's braid. "He's got you there."
♦ A hand tanned a suspiciously orange color slapped the bar. "Who the hell do I have to screw to get a beer in this place?" // I considered and tilted my head toward Niko. "That," my brother commented coolly, "is almost as humorous as my fist inserted into your left nostril."
♦ It wasn't a great plan; in fact, it was right up there with "Let's wait for one more song from the Titanic's house band before we hit the life boats."
♦ Of course with Niko that crap simply rolled off his back, water to a particularly phlegmatic duck. When you could kill someone with a dirty tube sock, you couldn't afford a careless temper.
♦ Niko was as deadly with a headlock as he was with a sword. He had me in one before I could blink.
♦ Niko was good at threats, very good. I'd never seen anyone or anything not at least hesitate in the face of one of his chilling smiles or predatory stares.
♦ "Where there are graveyards, there are flesh-eating revenants. Where there are cars, there are car salesmen."
♦ "Save it for later, Sir Raunch-a-lot," I rapped. We're here about the Auphe. 'Robin Does Rome' can wait until later." // He contemplated me for a moment, measuring me with eyes an intense, serious green. Then he pointed a chopstick at me and announced, "Kid, you need to get laid in the worst way." // Niko coughed abruptly, throat spasming over what I strongly suspected was swallowed laughter. The bastard.
♦ "Let's get this over with so I can burn these clothes and take an hour-long shower." He glanced back over his shoulder with a lascivious grin. " It's a big shower. Anyone care to join me?" // "This little adventure just keeps getting better and better," I hissed, mud sluicing up my legs and threatening to pull off my shoes as I went. "Nik, you want to poke me in the eye with a sharp stick, top the whole night off?"
♦ "You okay?" I demanded sharply. A single strand of long blond hair hung free from his braid as he sucked in deep breaths. It was the most disheveled I'd seen him since Meredith had last trapped him in the storage room.
♦ When we were kids he was busy dragging Colonel Mustard off to jail while I was still trying to figure out what the hell a conservatory was.
♦ Niko needed his sleep. It took a huge amount of energy to mercilessly nag me day in and day out.
♦ Niko slept through until morning. It was proof positive he'd needed the rest more than I did. Being injured knocked a person down a peg or two no matter how much a superninja he fancied himself. My good turn didn't count for much, however, because when Superninja finally rolled out of bed he was pissed.
♦ He didn't bother to get up and go around the table. Instead, he came over it. The bowl went flying, cereal and milk falling every which way. My chair and I also went flying, results of a tackle that would've done the NFL proud.
♦ "The Spanish Inquisition had nothing on your brother. Put him in a red smock and funny hat and he'd be employee of the month."
♦ "Damning with faint praise. Is that only a motto to you or do you actually have it tattooed on your ass?" Resting his chin in his hand, he flashed a bright rapacious grin. "And if so, can I see it?" // "Whoa, don't even," I cautioned, holding up my hands as Niko threw me a look of sheer malevolence.
♦ Goodfellow was waiting for his latest drink when he finally started listing on his stool. His head ended up on Niko's shoulder, his nose buried in the long blond fall of my brother's hair. The braid was history, courtesy of my freak-out. Robin inhaled and murmured, "Your hair smells good, like warm summer sun." // Niko sighed patiently and shifted him back up onto his stool.
♦ "Shocking indiscretion," I drawled. "I've lost all respect for you, Cyrano. Though in all fairness I blame it on the one mouthful of beer you drank."
♦ "Goodfellow, you can sleep on our couch tonight. In your condition, even a human mugger could give you a run for your money." That was the ultimate put-down in Nik's book, a mere human giving one trouble. Niko may have been all human, but he was anything but mere. // "The couch?" Robin swayed and yawned, sleepy green eyes nearly closed. "How 'bout-" // "Don't say it," Nik cut him off immediately. "For that matter do not even think it."
♦ I leaned over and laid a hand on Nik's shoulder. I could count the times on one hand I'd woken up my brother instead of vice versa. Giving him a light shake, I cajoled, "Up and at 'em, Cyrano." Dark blond lashes parted instantly to show a gleam of irritable gray. Following that, they just as promptly lowered, uninterested. "Okay, be that way," I drawled. "I can always call Robin in. He was saying something about sleeping beauties and princes. I didn't catch it all, but I'm sure he'd be willing to explain it. Maybe even demonstrate it." So much for my resolution to lay off the teasing for a while. But desperate situations called for desperate measures. Besides, it worked. The bloodshot glare was proof of that.

The story was fast-paced, heart-stopping, violent and glorious. I regret that I didn't read it sooner, and you can bet I'll be snapping up the other books in the series. Five stars!

Holy hannah, by the end of the book, I was hardcore shipping Niko and Robin. Due to his nature, Robin probably would have boffed anyone or anything, but he was keenly interested in Niko. Niko, however, was supremely disinterested, damn him. Ha ha! And, even though someone like Niko just screams "alpha" and "top", I would have totally put him on the bottom with Robin. The reason being that Niko has spent most of his life taking care of Cal and putting Cal first. He needs someone to come in and take control while he simply allows himself to relax and let someone take care of him for once. Rowr! I may have to roll my tongue back in my mouth and write my own Robin/Niko fanfic. Heh.

cal