Cronin's Key (#1) by N.R. Walker

[Ulysses]

Cronin’s Key (part 1, French edition)
By N.R. Walker
Published by the author, 2015
Four stars

“Je ne mange pas…ici.”
(I don’t eat…here.)

How did I study French for 14 years and write two vampire novels without knowing that the French word for “fangs” is “crocs?”

N.R. Walker has a good translator, and I always like reading the French versions of her books to keep my mind lubricated and my vocabulary expanding.

In this first of a two-part series, we meet Alec MacAiden, a New York City detective, hot on the trail of what he thinks is a drug-addled criminal. Suddenly, he finds himself trying to save a stranger who stepped in to protect him, only to have him bleed out and disappear in a cloud of dust.

Not long after, a dazzlingly handsome redhead named Cronin appears at Alec’s police station and, taking him in his arms, transports him into a new life.

I have to say, this is a fun twist on the vampire lore that I dove into as a result of Anne Rice’s landmark series of novels in the 1970s-90s. That little quotation from the text is a sly reference to Count Dracula’s own comment about not drinking…wine. It is part of a long process of learning about Cronin, about his friends Eiji and Jodis, who have their own historical backstories. At the same time, Alec’s own story—and his actual given name, Ailig—gradually begins to fill out the gaps in Cronin’s bewildering story.

Alec, like any red-blooded American, resists all notions of “fate” and “destiny” that remove his free will, and part of the emotional charm of this story is his gradual acceptance that he is part of something bigger, a long arc of inevitability that has led him to the strange place in which he finds himself. “Fated mates” is a trope not uncommon in paranormal romances, but I must say that Walker uses it nicely in this book, taking it outside the typical narrative paths.

Alec is a really good detective, and greatly underappreciated by his colleagues and superiors on the NYCPD. He not only has a role to play in a world he never imagined existing, he has skills that are unique to him; skills that will ultimately be critical in, well, saving the world.

If I had any issue with this book (and I imagine the next one, waiting on my e-reader), it is with the issue of how vampires feed. Ever since I created the character of Desmond Beckwith for my own novels, I’ve had this personal glitch about vampires needing to kill to feed. Killing humans not only makes them evil in my book, but it’s also counterintuitive in terms of biology—blood regenerates. I eat meat, but I don’t eat human meat. Ew.

In this world, however, we learn that “Il y a de bons vampires et de mauvais vampires...” (There are good vampires and bad vampires.) Cronin is one of the good ones. Apparently, being labeled good means that one feeds “Uniquement des criminels et ceux qui on l’intention de nuire à autrui.” (Only criminals and those who intend to hurt others.) This is an echo of the vampire Lestat in the Rice novels, who becomes selective in his feeding as his life evolves. However, given that vampires in this world seem to need to feed every few days at least, that seems like a lot of bad guys dying on a daily basis. And, I wondered, are criminals always ugly, tattooed hardcore types, or could they be corrupt financial wizards who line their pockets by stealing from the poor? This complexity isn’t covered at all, sticking to the obvious and safe answers, insofar as the author deals with it directly.

There is a very specific reason that the author has chosen this route, I think, and one that plays into the denouement of the first book. However, I still find myself resistant to the idea of any sort of routine killer of humans being a hero I can fully embrace. I know I will enjoy the second book of “Cronin’s Key,” but I also know that it will never fully work for me. It’s me, not her. But there it is.