KaSaga: переводы

→I smiled. “No. I’m going back to St. Vladimir’s.”

→She smiled. “Just tired. I’ll be all right.”

→Rebellion? Oh, it was more than that. Since their fight, Lissa had been unable to find Christian, and it was killing her. She couldn’t handle downtime now. All she thought about was him-or me. Partying and risk taking were the only things that could distract her from us.

→“Any idea where that door goes?” I asked the others.

→There. I had him. A male Strigoi was standing off in a corner, his arm around a girl close to my age. In the dim lighting, he almost seemed attractive. I knew closer examination would reveal the deathly pale skin and red eyes that all Strigoi had. The girl might not have been able to see them in the darkened club, or the Strigoi might have been using compulsion on her. Probably both, judging from the smile on her face. Strigoi were able to compel others just as well as a spirit user like Lissa could. Better, even. Before our eyes, I saw the Strigoi lead the girl down a small, unnoticed hallway. At the end, I could just make out a glowing exit sign. At least, I presumed it was an exit sign. The letters were Cyrillic.

→“This way,” I told them. “Act like you’re still into the music.”

→I moved toward the bar, and the feeling increased.

→He exclaimed something in Russian that I recognized as a swear word. “What was that for?” he asked.

→“Be quiet!”

→“For being stupid! How do you expect to kill something that’s twice as fast as you while drunk?”

→We followed him and found a similar scene: another secret club hidden in a run-down building. More flashing lights. More crowds. More pounding music. Disturbingly, what started to bother me first was the smell. That many people generated a lot of sweat. I had no doubt even the humans could smell it. To us, it was cloying. Tamara and I exchanged looks and wrinkled our noses, needing no words to convey our disgust.

→“I thought you might be here, Kolya,” said one. He spoke in perfect English, and it took me a moment to realize he was talking to Nikolai. I would never understand Russian nicknames.

→Nikolai’s eyes suddenly lifted from her face and focused on something behind us. He frowned. Viktoria and I both glanced back, and I felt her mood shift too.

→He didn’t seem pacified by that. “Yeah, but-”

→She shrugged. “We’ll all see each other at school.”

→We turned and saw Nikolai striding toward us. He gave us-by which I mean, he gave her-a brilliant smile. He’d dressed up for the holiday and looked amazing in a sage shirt and dark green tie. I eyed Viktoria, wondering if it had any effect on her. Nope. Her smile was polite, genuinely happy to see him, but there was nothing romantic there. Again, I wondered about her mystery “friend.”

→Viktoria had explained that it was a big tradition around here. A few people I didn’t know gave some to me, and I felt a little bad that I had nothing to give in return. I also wondered how I was going to eat them all. They were decorated in various ways. Some were simply colored; others were elaborately designed.

→Church ended, and I left with the Belikovs, feeling melancholy. As people passed each other near the entrance, I saw some eggs being exchanged.