Ruthless Creatures

“I know better than to mix business with pleasure. I just need to focus and do what I came here to do. If only she wasn’t so goddamn beautiful. I don’t like to break beautiful things.”

Kage’s overwhelmed and desirous reaction to Nat introduces the theme of Women Humanizing Brutal Men. Although he is typically a cold-blooded assassin, Nat makes Kage feel guilt and shame at the idea of harming her. He realizes that her “beauty” distracts him from his “focus”—he doesn’t want to “break” her but to treat her carefully and tenderly instead.

“Okay, Nat. Man up. Woman up. Whatever. Just […] get your shit together.”

Nat’s diction here subverts gender norms. To keep her composure while saying goodbye to her wedding dress, she uses the idiom “man up” to pull herself together, before switching to the more appropriate “woman up.” As she ends with “whatever,” Nat indicates that no gender is exclusively associated with a person getting their “shit together.”

“Kage sits watching me like a hunter peering at a doe through the sights of a rifle.”

At the restaurant in the casino, Nat describes her first sight of Kage: He is playing the role of the “hunter,” and Nat as his prey. Although this imagery introduces the motif of predation, it is a misdirect: From here on, Nat continually stands up to Kage and voices her preferences, undercutting the potential threat implied by the simile. She’s neither helpless nor Kage’s victim.

“Nothing can hurt you as much as you’ve already been hurt. You’ve survived the worst thing you could imagine. It’s time to start living your life again.”

Nat and Sloane’s conversations are often bawdy and playfully insulting. Yet this jokey camaraderie stems from their deep and genuine friendship. In between quips about sex, Sloane gives Nat earnest guidance by acknowledging her courage and pushing her to have new experiences—a mixture of tones that adds nuance to their relationship.

“Picturing Natalie’s face, I close my eyes. If anyone ever finds out I didn’t do the job I was sent to do, we’re both dead.”

Kage’s narration foreshadow why he was sent to Lake Tahoe: to inflict harm on Nat on behalf of the criminal organization to which he belongs. However, he has now accepted that they are both in danger—his feelings for her have marked them both as targets. Kage’s tender invocation of “Natalie’s face” and the phrase’s sharp contrast with the matter-of-fact description of terrorizing Nat as a “job” plays into the theme of women humanizing brutal men. Nat pushes Kage to reveal his vulnerable side.

“I want you to speak your mind with me. Tell me when I’m out of line. Kick my ass if I need it. Because one thing I can guarantee you is that I’m not an easy man. I’m definitely gonna piss you off.”

Kage advances his positive characterization by encouraging Nat to assert her agency around him. Conversely, he retains his antihero appeal by admitting that he’s not an “easy man” and that he’ll likely “piss her off”: He may be under her spell, but he’s still volatile and dangerous.

“‘This doesn’t make sense. What kind of criminal would go around advertising he’s a baddie?’ ‘The kind that needs the woman he wants to understand what she’s getting herself into.’”“‘This doesn’t make sense. What kind of criminal would go around advertising he’s a baddie?’ ‘The kind that needs the woman he wants to understand what she’s getting herself into.’”

Kage’s bluntness about his criminality undercuts his antihero characterization—his honesty speaks to his fundamental decency and redeemable nature. The word “baddie” helps undercut the threat he poses to Nat: Rather than calling him a villain in full seriousness, she uses the lighthearted term to dispel some of his machismo.

“I kiss him back, just as hungrily as he’s kissing me, my ambivalence pushed aside for the moment. The sheer pleasure of tasting him and feeling him against me suddenly takes priority over everything else.”

The novel’s sex scenes use hyperbolic diction, emphasizing The Irrationality of Sexual Desire. As “sheer pleasure” becomes the “priority,” there’s no room for Nat to reason or talk herself out of her risky relationship with Kage. As is common in the romance genre, the novel portrays an idealized passion—every physical encounter between Kage and Nat fulfills both in fantastically euphoric ways.

“I wait a split second for his companion to turn and face me, then shoot him in the chest. I never shoot a man in the back. It’s unsportsmanlike.”

Kage approaches shooting the Irish mafia members at La Cantina with a code of honor. Kage doesn’t evade responsibility. He wants the man to know who’s killing him and to confront his executioner face to face. The scene reinforces Kage’s straightforwardness and integrity even in the heat of violent combat.

“Oh, bridge. High, unstable rope bridge swinging across a roaring river far, far below. I sure hope you’ll hold my weight as I step out onto you […] I whisper, ‘Okay. Thank you for being honest. You should take me into the bedroom now.’”

Nat uses a metaphor of a fragile rope bridge over a turbulent river to illustrate the risk of starting a relationship with Kage. The comparison highlights the irrationality of sexual desire, as her irresistible need to be in “the bedroom” with him propels her admittedly incautious choice.

“My breasts swing with every thrust of his hips. I’m completely out of my mind with pleasure.”

The image of Nat’s swinging breasts highlights her freedom and lack of self-consciousness. Since she’s “out of [her] mind with pleasure,” she has no regard for conventional standards of beauty. Instead, her liberated physicality reflects the irrationality of sexual desire.

“This is private property. My property. I’ve already asked you to leave, but you haven’t. So not only are you harassing me and scaring me, you’re trespassing. And considering our past relationship, your obsession with my neighbor, and your history of stalkerish behavior with the constant drivebys—which I’m sure your boss could track from your phone or the equipment in your squad car if he needed to—it would look very bad for you in front of a jury if I felt compelled to use this weapon.”

Nat and Chris’s dialogue highlights the importance of Distinguishing Conflict and Abuse. While Chris isn’t a criminal like Kage, he parlays his position of authority as sheriff into harassing access to Nat. When Kage creates conflict, he and Nat talk it through respectfully. Chris, however, is a predator who scares Nat. Only when she is empowered by Kage’s attention can she stand up to Chris, threatening him with the “weapon” of exposure if he does not stop his abusive behavior.

“I’m more than the sum of my body parts. I actually have a personality, too, in case you haven’t noticed. And a brain. A very big brain, as a matter of fact.”

Nat reminds Kage that she is a thinking human being and not simply a collection of “body parts” that experience sexual pleasure—a comment that signals the relationship’s growing emotional core. Her lighthearted tone confirms that she is not saying this in protest and acknowledges that Kage doesn’t treat her like an object but as a valuable person he wants to protect. Nevertheless, the novel makes it clear that what binds Kage and Nat is their sexual desire, not intellectual compatibility.

“She’s already proven too powerful for me to resist. Too addictive. I’m too far under her spell. So the truth isn’t an option.”

The repetition of the word “too” reinforces the over-the-top intensity that the novel portrays between Nat and Kage. Kage’s figurative language—he compares Nat to an “addictive” drug or a magic user who can cast a “spell”—echoes the series title, which positions its female protagonists as figures of fantasy: “queens.”

“‘You selfish, arrogant, son of a bitch.’ ‘Guilty. Say it.’ ‘Would I have agreed to any of this insanity if I wasn’t in love with you?’”

The angry but still romantic dialogue between Kage and Nat highlights the theme of distinguishing conflict and abuse. Their contentious back and forth reveals that Nat and Kage’s fights aren’t toxic—they do not compromise each other’s dignity or devalue each other as people through their words. Instead, they use strong language to work through their strong emotions without inflicting lasting emotional harm.

“Say ‘red’ and I’ll stop. If you get uncomfortable but aren’t sure if you want me to stop yet, say ‘yellow.’ If you like something, say ‘green.’”

The motif of colors undercuts the depiction of sexual desire as a force that makes Nat and Kage lose their access to reason. Their dynamic is physically intense enough to get them to be together despite Kage’s criminality and Nat’s involvement with David, but it doesn’t preclude their insistence on enthusiastic consent for sexual exploration.

“‘The Russians are trafficking people?’ ‘That’s the Armenians and the Chinese. The Russians are mostly into weapons and drugs distribution.’”

The dialogue between Sloane and Nat works to soften the readers’ condemnation of the Bratva and, by association, Kage. Since the Russians aren’t into “trafficking people,” Kage’s characterization becomes more ethical within the organized-crime context. Unlike other syndicates, Kage’s crime family has boundaries—ones that have no basis in reality but help promote the fantasy that the romance novel purveys.

“[Nat] whispers, ‘I’m in love with you.’ Now I do groan out loud.

She just shot an arrow through my chest. I’m fucking dead.”

Kage’s hyperbolic reaction to Nat’s declaration of love shows the influence of women humanizing brutal men. The image of the arrow through his chest indicates that Nat has penetrated Kage’s tough exterior and reached his interiority. She’s uncovered his feelings. However, the metaphor helps Kage retain his dangerous mystique: Even when his emotions emerge, he thinks in graphically violent imagery.

“I feel it. Something bad is coming. A storm is headed our way.”

This declaration functions as explicit foreshadowing, with Nat bluntly warning the readers that adversity is on the horizon. Geissinger prolongs the suspense with a sex scene. Then, in Chapter 35, the predicted “storm” arrives with Max’s phone call ordering Nat’s death and Viktor’s arrival to assassinate her.

“Get off your knees, gangster. I can’t deal with you like this.”

Kage often subverts masculine norms by making himself vulnerable and submissive to Nat. Getting on his knees in front of her symbolizes him assuming a less powerful position—and also brings to mind a variant of the traditional marriage proposal stance. Nat brings him back into line with masculine norms by ordering him to get up; she does not want to emasculate him since she is attracted to his machismo.

“For the record, we had no idea you’d gone to Tahoe until last year. We didn’t have a man inside the bureau until then. So either your WITSEC contact was lying about us closing in five years ago or you are. My money’s on you. You always were full of shit.”

Kage and David’s dialogue highlights their contrasting characterization. Kage, though he’s a killer, is honest and forthright. David, though less physically violent, is a liar who manipulates women. As foils to each other, David and Kage show Nat the importance of distinguishing conflict and abuse.

“‘A recording of this conversation, for one thing.’ ‘Too bad I’ve got a scrambler on the signal so all you’ll hear on playback is white noise.’”

As a dark romance, Geissinger’s novel portrays an unrealistic and idealized relationship. Yet the novel’s dips into the detective and crime genres allows for more realism. Here, Kage and Massimo explain how the mafia might plausibly use contemporary technology to thwart surveillance.

“[Y]ou’re fine. And the only time you’ve been fine in the past five years is when you’re with him.”

Sloane uses repetition and a blunt, earnest tone to remind Nat why she should stay with Kage. Though the romance defies convention, Kage makes Nat feel “fine” for the first time “in the past five years”—evidence that he is good for her and thus a suitable long-term partner.