Sleeping_Beauty: переводы

→“I believe in what I’m doing, whether you believe in me or not. I’m taking a week off to contemplate this and figure out my next step. When I come back, we’re having another talk, and this one will include Tate, Juan, and Cooper. You’re going to tell them about the consequences of the blood they drank. And you’re wrong about something, Don. It’s not vampire blood that corrupts—it’s whether the person who drinks it is corrupted to begin with. Hey, don’t take my word for it, look at the guys. They felt that same power, felt how different it could make them…and yet they didn’t turn evil. It doesn’t twist who you are, it only increases it, for better or worse. Remember that, but I have a feeling I’ll have to remind you.”

→I have been stabbed, shot, burned, bitten, beaten unconscious too many times to count, and even staked. None of those held a candle to the pain I felt at seeing his mouth on hers. A soft sound escaped me, barely a disturbance of the air, but it was a sound of pure agony.

→I fled as fast as I could, running to my car and practically slamming it into gear. The territorialism all vampires had was seething inside me. I had to leave or I was going to kill Felicity, and technically she hadn’t done anything wrong. No, I was the one with the problem. She was just kissing the man I loved—and had given away.

→At that instant, Bones lifted his eyes to stare directly at me. His gaze seemed to be shouting, Don’t like it? What are you going to do about it?

→They were in the corner of the patio off the main reception room. It was pitch dark, but I saw everything all too easily. Felicity’s back was to me and her arms were around him. The moonlight glowed off his skin, highlighting his face when he leaned down and kissed her.

→Unable to help myself, I searched for them, following the trail of invisible energy that wafted off him. When I found them, I stopped short.

→Denise and Randy were almost the last to leave. They would depart for their honeymoon two days from now, and were going back to her house tonight. I kissed them and wished them every happiness while I was fixated on the fact that it had been five minutes since I’d seen Felicity and Bones. They were still here, to my knowledge.

→“Cather—, er, Cristine! Are you in there?”

→My mother knocked loudly on the door, and I sagged in relief. For once I was glad she was there.

→CHAPTER 10

→I blinked stupidly. “My birthday was last week.”

→Since Tate was the closest to my house, he was my last stop. He gamely tried to walk to his door, but his feet kept getting away from him. Out of amused frustration, I ended up carrying him inside. Thankfully he’d taken his key out so I didn’t have to frisk him to find it.

→The club closed at three A.M. Don had kindly arranged for the carpooling for the rest of my team, but even with the drum of gin I’d consumed, I was still sober enough to take Denise, Juan, and Tate home.

→“I’m still armed, Juan. And you still have time left on your sentence for chopping cars. You might want to remember that.” Then I looked over some of the heads and spotted another familiar face. “Is that Don? How did you get him to come to a place like this?”

→Juan pulled me into his arms from behind. “Denise hired me to be your gigolo for the night. You tell me how many orgasms you want, and I promise to deliver. I’ll give you a whole new definition of the term smooth criminal, querida. Mmm, your ass feels like a round piece of—ooof!”

→If I’d been the one to go to Chicago, I would have found the watch. Had Don not kept me out of the loop this one time, it would have been me who went there. Me, not Tate, and Bones had all but left me his goddamn phone number. The pager was only good for a radius of five miles. He would have been that close, waiting to see if I came and pressed that button.

→“Querida, let’s just go inside and check it out,” Juan said, impatient. “If it’s nothing, drinks are on me.”

→This was the most half-assed approach to a potential murder we’d ever taken. The guys weren’t even properly suited up. They probably figured this was bullshit since the 911 caller had sounded drunk. It wouldn’t be the first false alarm we’d received. Or the fiftieth.

→Tate’s elbow in his rib cage cut him off. I rolled my eyes.

→“Happy belated birthday, Cat,” he said, giving me a self-deprecating smile. “Aren’t you glad Juan picked the place and not me? We would have had lattes and hors d’oeuvres instead of liquor and G-strings. Anyone get you a gin yet?”