Ampire: переводы

→“I’m not surprised, knowing the way you guys work.”

→“Hmm?” I realized I’d lost the thread of our conversation after all. “I asked which type of desert you find more striking,” Brayden explained. “The Mojave region gets all the hype, but I actually prefer the Colorado Desert.”

→The neighborhood we were in was pretty affluent. In fact, I’d say the houses bordered on being bona fide mansions. We stopped in front of one that looked like a cross between a hacienda and a southern plantation, large and sprawling with a pillared porch and pink stucco siding. The front yard was a mix of climates, green grass with palm trees lining the path to the house. The trees were like tropical sentries.

→“Gorgeous,” I said. “I love architecture. In another life, I’d have studied that—not chemicals and vampires.” As we continued on, we saw more of the same, each house trying to outdo the others. All of them had high fences and hedges blocking their backyards. “I wonder what’s back there. Pools, probably.”

→It was a huge, huge admission. Was it something I wanted to do? No. Absolutely not. I still had the same instinctive fears about giving my blood to Moroi, even for scientific purposes. And yet, yesterday’s events—and even the alley attack—had begun making me re-analyze my worldview. Vampires weren’t the only monsters out there. They were hardly monsters at all, especially next to these vampire hunters. How could I judge the enemy on race? I was being reminded more and more that humans were just as capable as vampires of evil—and that vampires were capable of good. It was actions that mattered, and Sonya and Dimitri’s were noble ones. They were fighting to destroy the ultimate evil of all, and as squeamish as I felt about giving my blood, I knew the right thing was to help them.

→Although Clarence wasn’t the expert on the hunters that this mysterious Marcus was, the old Moroi still had a surprising amount of info to share—info none of us had wanted to hear before. He verified what we’d already deduced, about the hunters’ “devotion to the light.” The group’s focus was Strigoi (for now), and all of their hunts were carefully planned and organized. They had a ritualized set of behaviors, particularly in regard to their younger members— which was why the rogue group harassing Clarence had been stopped. From what Clarence had gathered, the group was quite tough on their new recruits, emphasizing discipline and excellence.

→“I suppose he would if he got in touch with them,” Dimitri speculated. “But he must be friendly to Moroi if he helped you?” “Oh, yes,” said Clarence. “Very much so.”

→Fended them off during an attack and later got in touch with their order to keep those ruffians away from me.” Clarence shivered at the memory. “Not that I stayed around after that. I took Lee and left. That was when we moved to Los Angeles for a while.”

→Clarence shook his head. “Not usually. From what Marcus told me, they prefer Strigoi. These were young, undisciplined members of their order going off on their own, without the knowledge of their superiors. I assume it was the same type who killed Tamara.” “Who’s Marcus?” I asked.

→“A group of their young ones began stalking me. Trying to kill me.”

→“Not when Tamara died, no,” he admitted. His eyes got a faraway look, as though he were staring straight into the past. “But I knew what signs to look for. I’d run into them before that, you see. Back when I was living in Santa Cruz. They like California, you know. And the Southwest. Goes back to their sun fixation.”

→“Maybe they have some tracking or inventory system,” Sonya mused. “They keep tabs on various Strigoi in the country and then try to hunt them down.”