Harry Dresden is about to get shot!
The barrel of Denton’s gun looked bigger and deeper than the national debt as it swung to bear on my face.
Okay, look. People. Some metaphors (or similes, or whatever) just don’t work when you’re trying to establish tension. This is one of them. The more urgent and frantic your viewpoint character is supposed to be, the less clever quips and wordplay makes sense.
But no, this is slightly noir-ish YA and Harry Dresden is a Joss Whedon-esque quipster so he has to crack stupid jokes all the time.
Before he could, I met his eyes hard, shoved myself out toward him with a sudden screaming pain in my temples, and locked him into a soulgaze.
I got the impression that this was a passive thing, but apparently Harry can turn on the Dresden-gaze at well. SET SOUL PHASERS TO MAXIMUM.
The description of Denton’s inner soul whatever is actually pretty good. Here’s a selection:
I can’t describe what I found there very well. Try to imagine a place, a beautifully ordered structure, like the Parthenon or Monticello.
Now, add a couple hundred years of wear and tear to it. Dull the edges. Round the corners a little. Imagine water stains, and worn spots where the wind has gotten to it. Turn the skies dirty brown with smog.
Give the place of beauty an aura of rage and feral abandon, where the people who walk about watch the shadows like hungry cats, waiting to pounce.
Although it does use the word “strumpet” so there’s that.
That was Denton, inside. A good man, jaded by years and poisoned by the power that had taken control of him, until that good man had been buried and only the filth and decay remained
Unfortunately that doesn’t really describe Denton at all. He comes across as way too blood-thirsty to be that three-dimensional and sympathetic. Needless to say Denton is horrified by whatever he sees in Harry’s inner soul whatever, because Harry is a dark tormented badass.
Luckily Marcone shows up to announce that he doesn’t want Harry dead yet, and also MacFinn is hauling ass toward their location. Better get on that dude.
His smile widened, but his money-colored eyes grew harder.
For fuck’s sake, lay off the money-coloured eyes thing it’s not even that clever.
Denton flips his shit and shoots Marcone’s bodyguard a whole bunch of times, then grabs Marcone. Then agent Benn shows up so Harry can ogle her some more.
but was brought up short by a pair of bare, muscular, feminine legs. My gaze followed the legs up, past the skirt, to a magnificently bare-breasted torso encircled by a wolf-pelt belt
NOW IS NOT THE TIME HARRY
Benn shoves Harry into a big pit that also contains Murphy. Hi Murphy! The plan is that the wereagents will let MacFinn tear Marcone, Harry and Murphy apart then keep MacFinn trapped in the pit to cover their tracks with the White Council. How they’re going to explain what all of those people happened to be doing in the pit isn’t explained. Oh and Tera is there as well, along with the other weregoths. She’s naked. Tera is more or less always naked but for some reason we need to be told every time.
There were shouts from above, and we looked up to see Marcone swing out from the edge of the pit. He hung limply from a rope. His eyes were closed. I watched as he was drawn up in a series of short jerks until his bowed head bumped the bottom of the hunter’s platform above and then was left there.
Nah he’s not dead, they’re using him as bait for MacFinn.
“No, Harry. I can’t trust anyone anymore.” She half smiled and said, “I still like you, Dresden. But I can’t trust you.”
‘atta girl, Murph.
Physical pain, and a deeper heart hurt, both for Murphy’s sake and for the sake of our friendship. She was so alone. I wanted to go to the rescue, somehow, to make her hurting go away.
Oh my god Harry shit the flying fuck up.
AND THEN MACFINN SHOWS UP LOL. Better start wizarding Harry.