Vampires and humans live side by side thanks to an uneasy peace maintained by the Assembly. As an Arbiter for the powerful organization, Miles Watson is authorized to act as judge, jury, and executioner for anyone—living or undead—who breaks the law. But now Miles is up against a threat more sinister than anything he’s seen in his centuries as a vampire.
A criminal network in London is offering wealthy humans the chance to become vampires without the Assembly’s consent. When the process goes disastrously wrong, the Boss wants to eliminate any trace of the fiasco. But a rogue enforcer refuses to play along, and trouble quickly escalates out of anyone’s control.
As Miles sets off searching for the illegal vampires, he finds himself on the trail of a monstrous serial killer. The twisty investigation takes him from London’s deadly underworld to the rural backwaters of the Pacific Northwest—where an even more devious criminal enterprise threatens all of vampire-kind.
I listened to the audiobook version of Those Who Dwell in Darkness, so I have no idea how long it is in page count. But I’ve seen other reviews call it a big book, and honestly, it didn’t feel that way at all. The pacing is fast, the story is addictive, and it never drags.
This is a gritty urban fantasy that brings back the darker, more monstrous side of vampires. No sparkling, no tortured brooding romantics here. If you’ve read my reviews before, you know I can’t stand “romantasy,” so rest assured: this is not that. It’s sharp, tense, and focused on mystery and action over love and longing.
The worldbuilding is thorough and made complete sense to me, even jumping into this series fresh. It has a slightly smoky, noir vibe that worked really well with the tone. There’s a strong murder mystery thread, with our main character hunting a potential vampiric serial killer, and the balance between supernatural elements and procedural detective work was spot on.
But as always with McHugh’s books, the real strength lies in the characters. I liked Miles from the start. He’s the kind of guy you’d want as a best friend. A very dangerous, slightly grumpy, incredibly capable best friend, sure, but one with rock-solid morals and a genuinely good heart. His relationships with his found family and acquaintances felt believable and lived-in, with just the right amount of snark and loyalty. And yes, there’s plenty of the kind of banter I love most.
That said, the real star of the book is Church. She’s the best girl and easily one of my favorite fictional dogs ever. I don’t usually like when animals in books act too human, but Church strikes the perfect balance. She’s clearly not a regular dog, far too intelligent and intuitive for that, but she’s still a dog. She likes dog things, behaves like a dog, and brings heart and joy to the story in a way that never feels forced or cutesy. I need more Church in my life, just the canine version though, please!
And while this didn’t affect the plot directly, I had to laugh a few times imagining how angry certain readers might get over some of the casual inclusivity. McHugh makes it very clear (again!) that Nazis are bad, there’s a diverse and inclusive cast, and gasp!, even an electric car. None of it is preachy or shoved in your face; it all fits naturally into the world and characters. But imagining the “woke is ruining everything!” crowd fuming just from those details? That gave me an extra little dose of joy. Bonus points for that.
So while this might be a “chunky” book by page count, it read like a fast, gripping ride. A gritty, fast-paced urban fantasy with sharp edges, a solid mystery, and absolutely zero romantasy nonsense. Come for the vampire hunt, stay for the clever banter, great characters, and the best dog in fiction. Church alone is worth the read.
