Killer Instinct

“I knew that by the time a case was classified ‘cold’ and found its way to us, we were probably looking for a body—not a little girl.

But…

But Mackenzie McBride was six years old.

But her favorite color was purple.

But she wanted to be a ‘veterinarian pop star.’

You couldn’t stop looking for a kid like that. You couldn’t stop hoping, even if you tried.”

This passage immediately follows the opening paragraph, which focuses on crime statistics, and further develops Cassie’s point of view. Her focus on the missing girl’s personality characterizes her as more emotional than her yet-unnamed roommate, Sloane, and thus more caring and empathetic, which foreshadows her actions in the rest of the novel.

“I turned the lipstick over in my hand, staring at it in the dark. No matter how many times I tried to throw it away, I couldn’t. It was a masochistic reminder: of the people I’d trusted, the people I’d lost.”

This quote introduces the symbol of Cassie’s lipstick, which often conveys her state of mind throughout the novel. At the beginning of the story, Cassie’s struggles to “throw it away” mirror her struggle to let go of her traumatic past. The passage therefore lays the groundwork for further exploration of The Impact of Trauma on Behavior and Emotional Intelligence, including the importance of Cassie’s relationships with Locke and her mother with regard to her character arc.

“You were nervous the first time you saw her, standing beside the big oak tree, long hair shining to halfway down her back. You asked what her name was. You memorized everything about her. But none of that matters now. Not her name. Not the tree. Not your nerves. You’ve come too far. You’ve waited too long.”

This quote is the first of several unnumbered chapters interspersed throughout Cassie’s narration. The unusual use of second-person narration to convey the killer’s point of view creates a sense of intimacy between them and the reader. Additionally, this type of narration enhances the mystery of the killer’s identity. Indeed, not only does the murderer remain unnamed, but by conflating the murderer with the (presumably singular) reader, the narrative misleadingly implies that there is only one killer.

“Speak of the devil, and she appears, I thought. Then I stopped myself. I wasn’t being objective—or fair. I was judging Agent Sterling based more on what I thought she would do than anything she’d done already. Deep down, I knew that no matter who they’d sent to replace Locke, I wouldn’t have been ready. Every similarity was salt in an open wound. Every difference was, too.”

The novel consistently characterizes Cassie as thoughtful and empathetic. She is always willing to understand others’ perspectives, including those of people she dislikes. Although she is initially wary of Sterling’s intentions, for instance, Cassie realizes that she is prejudiced against her. This exemplifies her keen self-awareness and emotional maturity.

“If you want to get close to an UNSUB, I could practically hear Locke telling me, don’t say she or her. Say you.”

In her narration, Cassie mentally addresses the UNSUB in the second person when she is working on a profile. This enables her to feel closer to the suspect and therefore understand their deeper motivations. In the context of the second-person interludes, it also frames Cassie as profiling the reader as well as the killer, imbuing the book-reader relationship with a sense of intimacy but also danger.

“When Briggs talked about what it meant to be a Natural, he tended to use words like potential or gift. But Sloane was saying that raw talent alone wasn’t enough. We hadn’t been born Naturals. Something about Lia’s childhood had turned her into the kind of person who could lie effortlessly, the kind who knew when someone else was lying to her.

Something had made Michael zero in on emotions.

My mother had taught me to read people so I could help her con them out of money. We were constantly on the move, sometimes a new city every week. I hadn’t had a home. Or friends. Getting inside people’s heads, understanding them, even if they didn’t know I was alive—growing up, that was the closest to friendship I’d been able to come.

‘None of us had normal childhoods,’ Sloane said quietly. ‘If we had, we wouldn’t be Naturals.’”

Despite its fictional premise, the narrative creates a sense of psychological realism by rationalizing the young Naturals’ abilities as acquired talents rather than unexplainable gifts. Cassie points out that such abilities are logical consequences of their backgrounds, which exemplifies the impact of trauma on behavior. This framing also highlights that the characters’ skills are not inherently positive; rooted in trauma, they can be used for good or evil depending on individual choices.

“‘No exceptions. No excuses. This program only works if the rules are followed and enforced.’ Agent Sterling had clearly cast herself in the role of enforcer. ‘You work on cold cases, and you do so only with the approval of myself and Agent Briggs. If you can’t follow these simple instructions, you’re not just a liability. This whole program is.’”

The novel initially characterizes Sterling as an “enforcer,” a figure of authority framed as an antagonist. At first, she seeks to control the five teenagers’ behavior, which foreshadows the revelation that she is actually concerned about their safety and well-being. As a result, Sterling’s opening statement sets up important narrative stakes that are eventually resolved when she changes the program for the better.

“‘You know why this program is restricted to cold cases?’ Judd asked me once Michael was gone. […]

‘Because on active cases,’ I said softly, ‘people get hurt.’

‘On active cases, people cross lines.’ Judd took his time with the words. ‘Everything is urgent, everything is life-and-death.’ He rubbed his thumb across the pads of his fingers. ‘In the heat of battle, you do what needs to be done. You make sacrifices.’”

Judd’s warning to Cassie explicitly addresses the theme of Moral Dilemmas in the Face of Danger, foreshadowing both Cassie’s reckless decision to let Webber abduct her and Sterling’s reform of the Naturals program. Judd warns Cassie of the dangers of “crossing lines,” referring to moral principles and safety checks. This increases anticipation as Cassie, who is deeply caring and emotionally driven, often takes unnecessary risks to do the right thing. Judd also alludes to his and Sterling’s past experience, which sets up new narrative stakes for the rest of the Naturals series to explore.

“The philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche said that anyone who fought monsters had to fight becoming a monster himself. ‘If you gaze long enough into the abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.’ Geoffrey paused on a slide that included dozens of pictures—not of bodies, but of men. I recognized some of them—they lined our walls at home, smiling out at us from frames, a constant reminder that the kind of monster we hunted could be anyone. Your neighbor. Your father. Your friend.”

Nietzsche’s quote, cited here by Geoffrey, provides verisimilitude to the narrative by including real-life references. With the parallel it draws between “monsters” and those who fight them, it also reinforces the idea that killers are not in fact monsters; they are everyday individuals with deeply human motivations, though they put these to twisted use. This adds nuance to the novel’s moral landscape and heightens narrative tension by reminding readers that it is difficult to know who is—or could be—a killer.

“‘What do you want?’ Dean’s voice was completely flat. Redding either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

‘You,’ the man said, his eyes roving over Dean, drinking in every detail, like an artist surveying his finest work. ‘I want to know about you, Dean. What have those hands been doing the past five years? What sights have those eyes seen?’

There was something disconcerting about listening to Dean’s father break his body down into parts.

Dean is just a thing to you, I thought. He’s hands and eyes, a mouth. Something to be molded. Something to own.”

This passage exemplifies Dean’s relationship with his father, who sees him only as a reflection of himself. Redding seeks to own and control Dean completely, which foreshadows his role as the mastermind behind the three apprentice murderers. Significantly, Cassie mentally addresses Redding in the second person, like she does all criminals, which illustrates her attempt to profile him.

“You want to know why you, in particular, concern me, Cassie? You’re the one who really feels things. Michael, Lia, Dean—they learned very early in life to shut down their emotions like that. They’re not used to letting people in. They won’t feel the need to put their own necks on the line every single time. Sloane cares, but she deals in facts, not emotions. But you? You won’t ever be able to stop caring. For you, it will always be about the victims and their families. It will always be personal.”

For the first time in the story, Sterling opens up to Cassie about her deeper motivations. Her concern about Cassie draws a parallel between the two characters, who are both profilers, driven by their emotions, and prone to impulsivity. Sterling thereby takes on the role of Cassie’s mentor, which foreshadows the ending, when Sterling assumes leadership of the Naturals program.

“The professor was a problem. You’re a problem solver. It was quick and clean—a single bullet to the back of his skull. And if there was no artistry to it, no method, at least you were showing initiative. At least you were ready, willing, and able to do what needed to be done.”

This quote, from the perspective of the yet-unidentified Webber, conveys his practical and methodical mindset. While Emerson’s murder is part of a larger plan and takes on ritualistic characteristics, Webber describes Fogle’s killing in clinical terms: It is simply a “problem” to solve, as efficiently as possible. This characterizes Webber as devoid of any empathy or humanity and therefore highly dangerous.

“Director Sterling was whatever kind of man he had to be to stay on top. When confronted with a problem, he analyzed all possible solutions: costs versus benefits, risks balanced out against rewards. In this case, the risks and likelihood of compromising the investigation and exposing the Naturals program compared to the potential benefits of utilizing all of his ‘resources’ to catch this killer.”

This passage, though it focuses on FBI Director Sterling, echoes Webber’s approach to murder. Just like Webber, Sterling is characterized as a methodical problem-solver; while they work on different sides of the law, the two characters mirror each other. What defines them are their individual choices rather than their tendencies or aptitudes—a point that intersects with the novel’s theme of Biological Heritage Versus Found Family and underscores its often gray morality.

“And I’m just as frustrated as you are. Everything we’ve done—everything we tried to do—it was for nothing. The UNSUB isn’t in that class. It doesn’t matter that Geoffrey has minimal empathy and a fascination with the dark side, or that Clark had a thing for Emerson and a lot of pent-up rage. None of it matters, because neither of them killed Emerson.”

At this point in the narrative, the protagonists hit a low point after all their leads are proven wrong. Cassie summarizes their situation by listing their failures, which creates a mood of hopelessness and deepens the mystery. It does the latter in part by introducing a red herring, implying that Clark is innocent. While he indeed did not kill Emerson, this sets up the eventual plot twist that Clark was one of the killers.

“‘Do you want to go after him?’ Michael’s question took me by surprise.

‘You’re the emotion reader,’ I retorted. ‘You tell me.'

‘That’s the problem, Colorado,’ Michael replied, leaning toward me. ‘You want me to tell you what you feel. I want you to know.’”

This exchange between Cassie and Michael marks a turning point in their relationship. Cassie, who is struggling with conflicting romantic feelings for Dean and Michael, is confronted by the latter. While Michael may have an inkling about her feelings due to his ability to read emotions, he wants Cassie to make an active, conscious decision. This underlines the novel’s message that, despite their talents, the Naturals struggle with deeply human emotions; their abilities are merely useful tools rather than magical solutions.

“The tracker was lighter than it looked, but the added weight, however slight, made my entire body feel heavy. Knowing I couldn’t leave, knowing that I couldn’t do anything—I hated it. I felt useless and weak and very, very young.”

For the first time in the story, Cassie acknowledges her youth and inexperience. The tracker symbolizes her limitations, both physical and emotional, which she is now forced to confront. The “[slight] weight” of the device also foreshadows the fact that Sterling relies on its symbolic weight as well and never actually turns it on.

“When I profiled an UNSUB, I used the word you. When Dean profiled killers, he said I.”

Cassie addresses UNSUBs as individuals so that she can infer their fears, desires, and motivations. By contrast, Dean identifies with UNSUBs and therefore uses the first person to profile them. Their differing methods highlight both Cassie’s empathy and Dean’s feelings of guilt about participating in his father’s crimes.

“You’re a developing artist. Improvisation. Innovation. A rush of power works its way through your body just thinking about it. You thought you wanted to be like Redding. To be Redding.

But now you’re starting to see—you could be so much more.”

After he kills Clark, Webber becomes more ambitious and more independent from Redding’s influence. This increases narrative tension, as Webber is turning into a killer with his own motives and methods rather than a mere copycat following Redding’s plan.

“We’d saved that girl at the coffee shop, the same way we’d saved little Mackenzie McBride. Another victim would be dead right now if I hadn’t sat down across the table from Daniel Redding. If Sterling hadn’t wound him up enough to bait him into torturing us with the truth. If Lia hadn’t been there behind the mirror, reading Redding for deception and finding none. If Sloane hadn’t realized that Lia’s ability wasn’t on the fritz.”

After the FBI rescues Christopher’s intended victim, Cassie acknowledges the importance of teamwork and the positive impact of their work. Despite the setbacks, personal hardships, and ethical dilemmas that they have experienced, Cassie feels like their work is morally justified because they save lives. This reinforces her characterization as deeply empathetic and willing to take risks to accomplish what she deems right.

“You have the One Who Got Away. You have his useless little son’s girl. This time, you think, we’re doing it my way.

You make the FBI agent put the girl in your trunk, climb in herself. You knock her out—and oh, it feels good. It feels right.

You slam the trunk. You climb into the car. You drive away.

The student has become the master.”

In this final chapter from Webber’s point of view, he finally embraces his own identity as a killer and frees himself from Redding’s influence. With Webber more dangerous and bloodthirsty than ever, the narrative thus builds toward its climactic ending: With Webber fully abandoning Redding’s plan, Sterling and Cassie are now in a dire, suspenseful situation that heightens narrative tension.

“The sound of a door opening ended our conversation. Ancient hinges creaked in protest. I fought the urge to turn toward the door. It wouldn’t be worth the bolts of pain the movement would send through my face and neck.

You’re standing there. You’re looking at us.”

As Webber’s serial killer persona fully takes form and Cassie identifies him as the UNSUB, their two points of view converge. The final sentences, “You’re standing there. You’re looking at us,” blend together Cassie’s profiling voice and Webber’s perspective, which both use the second person. This again highlights the parallels between killer and investigator.

“Take them. Free them. Track them. Kill them.”

Throughout the story, the killers follow Redding’s plan and use his MO to murder their victims: “Bind them. Brand them. Cut them. Hang them” (32, 50, 52, 114, 156, 199, 297). However, once Webber breaks away from Redding’s influence, he adopts his own motto. The phrase symbolizes him fully coming into his serial killer persona and finding his own preferred method of killing.

“Some people said that broken bones grew back stronger. On the good days, I told myself that was true, that each time the world tried to break me, I became a little less breakable. On the bad days, I suspected that I would always be broken, that parts of me would never be quite right—and that those were the parts that made me good at the job.”

At the end of the story, Cassie has gained emotional maturity and confidence. She has worked through some of her personal trauma and come to terms with both the positive and negative aspects of her work. This quote illustrates her mindset at the end of the novel, which is emotionally nuanced and therefore human and realistic.