Jessica Morton is a prodigy, the pride of her family. It's her junior year at Helshire College, and she's about to complete a life-changing assignment. Once she commits her first murder of a human, she'll be a fully fledged adult member of the family, eligible to be called “Aunt Jessica” and wear the flourish of red that means she's been blooded. The stakes are especially high for Jessica, showing just how much faith her family, especially her grandmother, has in her --- because her designated victim is her own cousin.

"Larbalestier and Westerfeld take elements that have made their YA novels successful and ratchet up the tension, sadism and spiciness to thoroughly adult levels, without losing sight of the storytelling prowess that has served them so well with other audiences."

After Peter's death, Jessica feels a short-lived pride but also harbors some lingering questions, especially when young members of other so-called legacy families like the Mortons start asking questions about Peter's passing and Jessica's own past. These legacy families --- locked in a shared history of rivalries, betrayals and occasional cooperation --- maintain their power by striking bargains with wealthy ordinaries who need their services.

The Mortons' talents lie in the field of accounting (and a little light torture). This leads Jessica to her summer project --- trying to exert control over an influential art collector who has an unhealthy fixation on an up-and-coming artist. The plan? Have Jessica pose as a summer gallery intern, befriend (and possibly seduce) that same young artist, Hiromi, and draw the jealousy of the art collector, luring him right into the Mortons' trap. 

But things start to go awry when Jessica develops genuine feelings for Hiromi, and even more so when the family's plans don't pan out exactly as they intended. Following a brutal and heartbreaking implosion of her summer mission, Jessica wakes up after an injury and discovers that she has…changed. For the first time in her life, she's developed something that feels a little like empathy --- and she's not quite sure how to handle it.

Justine Larbalestier and Scott Westerfeld are accomplished YA authors in their own right. Larbalestier, in particular, has excelled at portraying creepily psychopathic characters in her books for teens. Here Jessica exhibits many of those tendencies but in a nuanced way, especially once she starts to open her eyes to the realities of the family in which she has grown up. Larbalestier and Westerfeld take elements that have made their YA novels successful and ratchet up the tension, sadism and spiciness to thoroughly adult levels, without losing sight of the storytelling prowess that has served them so well with other audiences.

In some ways, Jessica's journey might be seen as a particularly dark and vivid metaphor for growing up more generally, realizing that one's family of origin might not be infallible and that it might be necessary to discover and forge different paths for oneself. But it's also an exciting, borderline outlandish exploration of these themes that will appeal to fans of dark academia, gothic family stories and revenge plots.