The Devils (The Devils, #1)

by Joe Abercrombie

If people don’t like you, it’s their problem, don’t make yourself suffer for it. Fuck ’em, she’d always said. You’ll find enough folk want you to suffer, there’s no need to help the bastards.

Jakob was the grumpy grandfather, Rikard the mysterious uncle, and Baptiste the put-upon mother. Balthazar was the overconfident older brother, Brother Diaz the underconfident younger brother, and Alex the pretty child everyone liked ’cause she hadn’t been around long enough to disappoint anyone yet. Vigga was maybe some weird third cousin who kept fucking everyone when she wasn’t turning into a giant wolf-thing and by that point the metaphor had really fallen apart because how many families have an invisible elf?

Baptiste folded her arms as she grinned over at Balthazar. “He’s a new boy. A warlock.” “I swear she does this to annoy me,” murmured Balthazar, glaring back.

“I’ve yet to see a gate to hell turn out well.” Vigga sadly shook her head. “Makes you wonder why they keep opening the bastards.”

She planted her hands on her hips and muttered at the ceiling. “I should’ve quit after Barcelona.”

“We ran out of good ideas in Venice,” Sunny threw back at her. “Maybe a bit before that. But if you have a better one, I am…” And she turned very slowly to look at Alex with her huge, shiny, mirthless eyes. “All ears.” “Oh God,” said Alex, clutching two fistfuls of her hair. “All ears, because I’m an elf.”

According to the histories, ancient Carthage itself boasted three pillars on an even grander scale, but they toppled when most of the city was sucked through a gate to hell.” “A bad day for property values in general, one imagines,” observed Baron Rikard,