The Fox and the Devil by Kiersten White (Del Rey)

Anneke Van Helsing, reeling from her father’s brutal murder, finds herself haunted by a shadowy figure known only as Diavola. Anneke’s complicated past with her father never really lets her go. Instead, she pours her grief and relentless drive to hunt down a string of murders that just don’t add up. As the story picks up speed, the line between human and monster, justice and obsession, gets messier and messier. White doesn’t tip her hand, either. The darker twists stay hidden until the last possible moment.

At the center of it all, Anneke’s journey pulls you in. She starts out heavy with resentment, dragging around old doubts, but she doesn’t stay there. By the time you’re halfway through, she’s a force; resourceful, sharp, still haunted by secrets she won’t share, even with her closest allies. The team she assembles isn’t just background noise. Their relationships with Anneke, sometimes warm, sometimes tense, cut through the book’s creeping dread and give it some heartbeat. Then there are the letters from Diavola. Strange, intimate, even tragic at times, they push Anneke into deeper turmoil and keep you guessing about who’s really pulling the strings.

The themes hit close to home. Grief, the hunt for truth when lies seem easier, and those gray patches of morality we all stumble through, White weaves them in without preaching. The clash between science and superstition, especially, rings true in a world that keeps redefining what’s possible and what’s dangerous. Obsession comes with a cost here; it isolates, but it also fuels the chase. Justice and cruelty blur together, asking you to decide which side you’re on, or if there even is one.

White’s prose cuts sharply. She jumps from the cold detail of forensics to the eerie beauty of nightmares, never missing a beat. The mood shifts as the story darkens, drawing you down with Anneke into a world where nothing feels safe. The pacing works. Fast, tense investigations break up with quieter, more reflective moments, and that balance keeps the suspense tight without drowning out the emotion. Sure, some parts stay a little murky, maybe too murky if you like tidy resolutions, but that uncertainty gives the book its haunting edge.

In the end, The Fox and the Devil stands out because it refuses to be just one thing. It blends thriller, gothic, and the supernatural, setting itself apart from standard crime fare. Fans of White’s other work will recognize her signature: complicated women up against impossible odds. The atmosphere presses in, thick with unease, but Anneke’s pain and determination keep everything grounded. Some plot threads dangle, unresolved, but that’s part of the point. The novel invites you to live with discomfort, to sit with loss, and to wonder at the unknown. It lingers, making you question what evil really is and how, despite everything, the human heart keeps going.

4/5