Blood Price by Tanya Huff

I’ll be honest with you: sometimes it’s hard to keep a sense of perspective. These days, I have an in-built mistrust of epic fantasy, even though I know that, when written with care and skill, it can be just as good as any other kind of fiction. Likewise, it’s essential to have strong female protagonists; but that doesn’t stop me wondering whether one will tip over the edge and become a clichéd Feisty Series Heroine. And it’s the same with vampire stories, or – and this makes me even more apprehensive – stories in which strong female protagonists get involved with vampires.

Which brings me to Blood Price. It was first published in 1991. and so actually predates most of the stuff we might instinctively compare it to. At first glance, though, it still looks like more of the same old same-old: Vicki Nelson, PI, hears a scream in the subway but is too late to stop a man being brutally slain by something. Then she’s on the case, trying to bring an end to a chain of similar murders across Toronto – and she doesn’t mind treading on the toes of her former police colleagues. Meanwhile, also investigating the killings is one Henry Fitzroy, the vampirized bastard son of Henry VIII. Needless to say, his and Vicki’s paths cross in due course…

So far, so ordinary. But it would be unfair to describe Tanya Huff’s novel that way, because there’s more to it than that. For a start, the protagonists are not the ultra-glamorous individuals you might expect. Yes, Henry has the typical mystique of a vampire, but he also pays the rent by writing trashy romance novels. And Vicki had to leave the force because of her failing eyesight (one complaint: Vicki pushes her glasses up her nose seemingly every few pages, and it is highly irritating). She is also, unusually, a good deal taller than Henry. These are minor points, but they make Blood Price stand out from its competitors.

One other refreshing thing that Huff does is to use multiple third-person viewpoints, as opposed to the single first-person narrative that we find in most tales of Feisty Series Heroines. This technique does two main things: it takes the weight of the telling off the character of Vicki, and allows Henry to become a protagonist in his own right. And the characters themselves are nicely drawn: even Vicki’s bizarre quasi-relationship with Mike Celucci, a former colleague whom she can’t stand, comes across as believable in context. Only Norman Birdwell, the nerdy summoner of the evil spirit doing the killing (and no, that’s not a spoiler), comes across as a stereotype.

Huff’s storytelling is also appropriately brisk, peppered here and there with a few striking images, and a nice line in dry humour: ‘Even in an age of science, the dead were considered bad neighbors. Henry couldn’t understand why; the dead never played Twisted Sister at 130 decibels at three in the morning.’ It’s not going to set the world alight, but it does its job very well.

In fact, that’s Blood Price in a nutshell. It’s not a radical reworking of anything; it’s not going to change anyone’s perceptions; but it is a great supernatural yarn. There are four more books in this series, and if they’re all like this, it will be a series worth reading.

This review first appeared in The Alien Online.