cariebooom: переводы

→The restaurant was called Fresh Cache, which didn’t improve my opinion of it. Still, I had to give it credit for attempts at a romantic atmosphere. Most of the lighting came from candles, and a pianist in the corner played covers of easy-listening songs. More well-dressed people filled the tables, laughing and chatting over wine and shrimp cocktails. The host showed us to a corner table, covered with burgundy linen and decorated with a scattering of green orchids. I’d never seen any up close and was actually quite taken with how exotic and sensual they were. If only I was here with anyone but Ian.I was hesitant to take my coat off. It made me feel exposed, and I had to remind myself of the consequences of Alchemists and Warriors working together. As soon as the dress was unleashed again, I had the satisfaction of seeing Ian melt once more. I remembered Adrian’s advice about confidence and put on a smug smile, hoping I gave the impression that I was doing Ian a great favor by allowing him to be in my presence. And, to my complete and utter amazement, it seemed to work. I even allowed myself to indulge in a dangerous thought: maybe it wasn’t the dress wielding such power here.

→“Sounds great,” I said. I never ate seafood in any landlocked state.

→“I made us a reservation at this really great seafood place,” he told me. “It’s close to the facility, so we can head on over to the service right away.”

→Ian had parked in the hotel ’s front circle drive. He drove a Toyota Corolla, which was made even more boring by the fact that he’d chosen it in white. A little air freshener shaped like a tree hung from the rearview mirror, but rather than the usual pine scent, a small label declared it to be “New Car Scent.” Mostly it smelled like plastic. I put on a brave face. Marcus really owed me one.

→We were in the middle of negotiating who’d pay for gas when the dream suddenly dissolved to blackness. A cold feeling swept over me, followed by a feeling of dread that rivaled the time Adrian and I had faced down Strigoi in his apartment. A woman’s laughter rolled around me, foul and sickening, like some sort of toxic smoke. A voice came out of the darkness, echoing in my mind.

→“Oh, um . . . ” Please don ’t blush, p lease don ’t blush, I ordered myself. “I’ve just been cold today.”

→“Well, I’ve got to go. I’ll find you later, Eddie.” I hurried off before any of them could question me further.

→“Who are these people exactly?” he asked.

→“Ex-Alchemists,” I said. “They don’t like all the procedures and red tape and just want to interact with Moroi and dhampirs on their own terms.”

→“They don’t have any hard proof,” I added quickly. “They’ve got a Warrior girl who spies for them. She thinks she overheard something . . . but it all sounds sketchy to me. They want me to help, but I don’t think there’s anything to uncover. I mean, the Alchemists helped raid the Warriors, right? Disrupting their crazy execution ritual wouldn’t exactly foster good relations.”

→“I suppose not,” he admitted, but it was clear he wasn’t entirely at ease.

→“How is everything?” I asked. “With Angeline? Jill? I’ve been so busy with, uh, stuff that I feel like we haven’t talked much.”

→“What on earth is that?” I exclaimed.

→They were a striking couple. His dark-haired, dark-eyed looks matched hers, and they were both dazzlingly attractive. It was no wonder Adrian had fallen for her, and I felt surprised at how uncomfortable that memory made me. Like Sonya and Mikhail, there was a bond of love between Rose and Dimitri that was almost palpable.

→I’d totally forgotten what I was wearing. It was a short-sleeved silk dress, almost entirely black save for some splashes of royal blue on the skirt. That was a bolder color than I would normally wear, but the black tempered it. Thinking back to Adrian’s shades of blue, I realized our palettes had indeed complemented each other.

→“Don’t look so panicked,” Rose said, eyes shining. “It was nice seeing a human and a Moroi look like they belong together.”

→I followed without a word, my head spinning with what I’d need to do in two hours. At the bar, Adrian astonished me by ordering ginger ale. “Nice restraint,” I said, realizing he’d need to stay sober to work spirit. I hoped he hadn’t indulged too much already. For him, the only thing better than an open bar would be a case of cigarettes showing up at his door.

→Adrian’s lips were a breath away. “Then we’ll meet in two hours by the hotel’s service door.” I gave a weak nod, and he stepped back, releasing my hands. “Here’s one last sign of good relations.” With a bow that could’ve come straight out of a Jane Austen novel, he gestured to the bar and spoke loudly. “Thank you for the dance. May I escort you to get a drink?”