Her Soul for Revenge

“Give a human knowledge, and he thinks he’s wise. Give a human magic, and he thinks he’s strong. Give a human religion, and he’ll think he’s right.”

Zane contrasts the limits of human knowledge (of both their own limitations and the world) with the more expansive perspective that demons gain, given their long lives. However, Zane doesn’t suggest that demons know what’s right, wise, or strong, which implies that his long history helps him avoid the kind of hubristic thinking that lures the Libiri into evildoing.

“Leon and I had sworn our bonds to each other centuries ago, and that bond had never broken. It never would. We may not have been lovers as we once were, but relationships that lasted through hundreds of years had to eb [sic] and flow like the tides.”

The length of Zane and Leon’s relationship affects their perspective. This ability to have an expansive vision of an intimate relationship (which may or may not be sexual at different times) means that the friction between Leon and Juniper isn’t because of awkwardness about Leon and Zane’s sexual history; rather, it’s exclusively due to Kent formerly commanding Leon’s actions. The lack of jealousy over past lovers highlights the singularity of Zane’s possessiveness over Juniper, suggesting that their romance is substantively different than his previous relationships.

“The Eld looked different everywhere I went. In Abelaum, they resembled bizarre mutated wolves. In New York, they were like massive bloated rats. Here…here they looked like goddamn crocodiles.”

Magic in Laroux’s trilogy connects to its setting, as is evident in Juniper’s observation that the Eld take different forms in different locales. This emphasizes the Deep One’s force as something that perverts nature: The Eld take on a monstrous, horrifying appearance as the most frightening, dangerous, or upsetting wildlife in a specific area.

“From the outside, Abelaum looked like a safe, peaceful place to live. But behind the facade of hip cafes and micro-breweries, there was an unease that had people scurrying inside after dark […]

But danger didn’t only wait in darkness. It walked in daylight, too, in expensive Italian suits, with a charming smile and a pristine family, always above suspicion.”

Juniper’s observation that the surface idyll of Abelaum doesn’t match its terrifying reality plays into a common trope in horror in which the ability of evil to hide in plain sight makes it even more dangerous. Laroux’s text suggests that if pristine exteriors often hide corruption, the opposite can be true: Demonic or scarred outsides (like Zane’s and Juniper’s, respectively) can mask one’s strong moral center, even if that morality is unconventional.

“They’d tried and failed to make me their victim. What remained of me was what they’d made of me: a shadow of their evil, an echo of pain, a storm of their own creation.”

Though Juniper is extremely angry and unrepentantly violent, she notes that she wasn’t the one to first incite this violence. The novel holds this distinction as important, as Juniper’s violence is against those whom she knows are capable of committing violence in return, while the Libiri’s violence targets those who are powerless and defenseless.

“I’d been alone for years. Not once, in all that time, had someone reached out to my disastrous, broken self and said, ‘This one is mine. This is the one I want.’”

Juniper finds Zane’s acceptance of her (without asking her to change) enormously validating. His acceptance helps her reimagine herself not as someone who’s “broken” (and therefore needs to be “fixed” before she’s worthy of love) but as someone who might be “broken” in certain ways but is all the more fascinating for it. Zane helps her reimagine a scenario wherein being “broken” isn’t the same as being unlovable or bad.

“I’d taken care with the knife, so the scars I’d given her would be slim, working within the lines of the art she already had. They weren’t meant to mar her flesh, they were meant to honor it.”

Zane’s care when he scars Juniper contrasts with the careless butchery that the Libiri committed against her. Though the novel frames consent as the most important element regarding the emotional effects of body modification, it holds that intent also matters. Zane’s efforts not to harm Juniper are significant because they materially reflect his intent.

“This was all sounding a bit too much like something out of a fantasy novel. Soul hunters, councils in Hell, the fact that Hell itself was even real.”

Metatextual references show that Juniper understands her situation at least partly through references to fiction. Rather than eroding the novel’s credibility, however, this rhetorical technique enhances Juniper’s credibility as a narrator. She understands that her situation is unlikely and that it resembles fiction, but she believes it nevertheless, which in turn indicates that her perspective is reasonably incredulous.

“‘Tell me no, Juniper,’ I said. ‘Go on. Tell me you don’t want it and I’ll stop, no hesitation. No games.’”

Zane asks Juniper to make a bargain that includes a sexual relationship as well as magically giving him her soul. Despite the coercive nature of this bargain, he emphasizes that every interaction between them is consensual and that she can always stop what’s happening. This develops the theme of The Importance of Consent as the defining factor between protagonists and antagonists.

“Letting myself indulge in something comfortable hadn’t been worth it. Comfort wasn’t part of my life; it simply wasn’t. I didn’t need it. I didn’t even deserve it.”

Juniper’s language slips between her practical reasons for avoiding comfort and her deeper, more honest emotional reasons. Though she tells herself that she can’t afford comfort in a financial sense, she feels that because of her “brokenness,” she doesn’t deserve anything good in her life. Zane’s insistent support helps her gradually accept that her traumatic past doesn’t mean that she should live a life of discomfort and unhappiness.

“It’s as simple as that. You’re not alone anymore, Juniper. Get that through your thick skull.”

Zane offers support shrouded in insult, which Juniper can more readily accept than support offered kindly. Zane’s insistence that she accept his support (whether she desires it or not) aligns with their “consenting non-consent” encounters, which psychologically frees Juniper to take the things she needs instead of resisting.

“Give yourself a little mercy, Juniper.”

Mercy is a recurring idea in the novel, and Zane explains that it’s a crucial concept for demons. It’s the safe word they use during sexual play to demand that all action between them cease. When Zane encourages Juniper to be merciful to herself, it evokes the broader issues of consent and power in the novel, including the corruption of fighting against someone too weak to defend themselves. Juniper’s continuous castigation of her younger self creates an unfair power dynamic. Zane encourages her to give herself mercy, even when being kind to herself frightens Juniper.

“‘Juniper, in general, I find humans to be painfully fragile,’ he said. ‘Annoyingly delicate. Bump one of you mortals the wrong way and suddenly you’ve got broken bones. But you’re not going to kill your own mortality by breaking your body again. Opening your scars won’t make them disappear.’”

Zane argues that Juniper’s desire for total self-sufficiency masks her self-destructive tendencies. He argues that this will only hurt her; it won’t help her achieve her goals or make her stronger. Accepting this helps Juniper see Zane as a true partner and thus accept the comfort and companionship he offers, which proves to be an important element in her healing.

“No one had ever looked at my range and refused to shrink away from it. I was used to being seen as initiating, threatening, unpleasant: an angry bitch. But it kept me safe, it kept people from getting too close.

Except Zane. He’d never pulled away, no, he’d kept pushing even when I pushed back. What kind of madman looked at my murderous rage and wanted more? What kind of freak didn’t find the deep hatred I held to be repulsive?”

Though Juniper insults Zane, calling him a “freak” and a “madman,” she, like the demon, uses harsh language to cover up the genuine emotion she feels at being accepted as she is. Both understand one another when they speak with harsh words, so neither feels hurt by the insults. This shared method of communication highlights how the two are singularly capable of supporting and caring for one another.

“There’d been a time when we’d been so close. Or at least…I’d felt close to her. I’d told her everything. I’d told her about my parents, about my dad leaving, and the pain of his death. I’d told her about my mother’s hatred of him, her boyfriends, her drinking—everything.

And she’d told me […] how she felt like her dad was always pitting her and Jeremiah against each other, telling them both to ‘make daddy proud’ as if it was all a game to earn his love.

Now I knew their competition had been very real. How fucking sick, to plan to sacrifice one of your children for some wicked God’s promises.

[…] I didn’t feel sorry for Victoria. She was carrying on the same murderous tradition as the rest of her cult.”

Though the violence of the Libiri in its entirety causes Juniper significant post-traumatic stress, she’s most betrayed by Victoria, who spent years pretending to be her friend so that she could manipulate Juniper into being sacrificed. While Juniper recognizes that Victoria was in an untenable situation, she doesn’t forgive her former friend, which is consistent with Juniper’s unrepentant rage.

“Memories are far more frightening than ghosts.”

Everly’s comment regarding the real past being more haunting than a hypothetical ghost plays into the novel’s exploration of how the supernatural becomes frightening only when human malevolence is added. Though the Deep One is the most powerful evil force in the text, human intervention empowered it, and the actions of the Libiri have caused Juniper the most harm.

“I frowned. ‘You mean you’ve turned against the Libiri? Against your family?’

‘They’re not my family,’ she said. ‘They were never my family. The blood of the coven is thicker than the water of the womb, and I am the last of my coven. Our goals are intertwined, Juniper; yours and mine.’”

Everly offers an alternative to the phrase “Blood is thicker than water,” which argues that familial relationships are stronger than any other concern. She plays with another version of the quote, which holds that “[t]he blood of the coven is thicker than the water of the womb,” which argues the opposite of the better-known aphorism, suggesting that chosen bonds are more significant than circumstantial, familial ones. In addition, Everly pays homage to her witch background by switching “covenant” for “coven,” a term for a group of witches. Her statement contests the question of which version of the phrase is the true original.

“‘I’m not trying to save the world, Everly,’ I said. ‘I’m not a hero. I’m…angry. I’m only angry. What I’m trying to do isn’t deep, or selfless, or courageous. It’s bitter. It’s selfish. It won’t fix anything or bring anyone back.’ I shook my head. ‘Look, what you’re trying to do is noble. And probably impossible. I can’t help you.’”

Juniper fulfills the role of an anti-hero, and here, she explains that she has no desire to try for more noble motivations. The novel doesn’t suggest that she’s wrong for sticking to her own goals, even if they’re motivated by rage. Instead, the text (and the arc of the trilogy overall) emphasizes that each novel’s heroine has a role to play in defeating the Libiri and the Deep One.

“‘My little wolf gets braver every day,’ he said. ‘You’re brave enough now to be as viciously happy as you are angry.’”

Zane’s framing suggests that being happy requires more courage than being angry. His suggestion that Juniper “gets braver every day” doesn’t imply that she lacked bravery before she trusted in this ability to be happy. Instead, it shows her as starting at a point of bravery that only increases with time.

“And she needed to let her walls down. She needed to be as messy as she pleased without fear of being alone.”

While Juniper fears that everyone will shy away from her “messiness,” Zane strives to find a place for her to experience all her uncomfortable, difficult, and unruly feelings without fear. His hunch, as the Epilogue suggests, is correct: Only when Juniper can openly discuss everything that happened to her and trust that Zane won’t abandon her can she work through her trauma, thematically highlighting The Value of Acceptance.

“‘You’re a demon,’ Kent snapped. ‘Your entire existence is meant to be bent to the will of your master.’”

Kent’s belief that demons should be subservient indicates his desire to control others, which the novel presents as unilaterally evil. Bending someone to someone else’s will is antithetical to the novel’s emphasis on the importance of consent. Moreover, Kent’s controlling and commandeering nature foreshadows the Deep One’s callous misuse of its followers: Since the Libiri believe that hurting the less powerful is the best way to secure power, it follows that the god who inspired their devotion is willing to abuse less powerful supporters for its own gain.

“You harm those who are weak and vulnerable. You go after children. You prey on those who trust you. You make your own offspring into vile little monsters. You steal freedom. You force others to bend to your will under threats of pain and violence.”

Zane highlights Kent’s injustice in perpetuating harm against those with less power, rather than those who can fight back fairly. Kent shows his hypocrisy when Zane and Juniper expose his vulnerability and he angrily insists that what they’re doing to him is unfair, while maintaining that his actions against others were just.

“I wasn’t sad. I didn’t regret what I’d done. It was satisfaction: pure, unadulterated satisfaction. It was revenge. Cold, callous, unfeeling revenge. And God, it felt so good.”

Though Juniper is unrepentantly violent as she tortures and kills Kent, she has no regret for her actions. This explores the possibilities in the theme of Revenge as a Positive Force, as Juniper rids the world of a dangerous tyrant without experiencing any negative emotional repercussions.