Lexxy: переводы

→Claire didn’t want to move, but she did, and helped Shane up. Oliver stared at the two of them for a moment, then shook his head.

→“Yes.” The voice was raw, and quiet, but it was Oliver’s. He was standing in the doorway, and Amelie was still in his arms. “There’s no option now. We fight them for Morganville. All of us.” He looked down at Amelie. “And the cost will be high, Mr. Collins. It will be very high indeed. Come now. It won’t be safe out here for long, and the sun is coming up.”

→He shook his head and sighed, and pressed his lips against her hair in a gentle kiss. “We’re going to win,” he said. “That’s our only choice. I don’t know how, and I don’t know what the cost is going to be. But we’re going to win.”

→He looked almost as frail as Naomi had, but he carried her anyway.

→Michael carried Eve past them. There was a thick bandage on her neck, but the bleeding seemed to have stopped, and she seemed okay. She had her arms around him, and her head was lying in the hollow of his shoulder, and Claire thought she’d never seen a look like that on Michael’s face, that complicated mixture of fierce love and fear and regret.

→Neither one of them tried to speak.

→He was shaking, she realized, but he was trying to comfort her with soothing strokes down her back, a gentle touch on her face.

→And so was she.

→He sat up and held out his arms, and she collapsed against him. He kissed her, and even though he still tasted like that pool, like all the nightmares, she sank into the kiss, because underneath it he was Shane, he was alive, he was alive.

→That accounted for almost all the vampires they’d rescued. Claire got up and walked toward the back. She stopped when she reached Shane, who was lying down on a donation couch. He’d wiped himself clean of the blood, but she could see bleeding pinpricks on his face and hands. He looked terrible, she thought, and wanted to cry in wild, screaming sobs. Somehow, she gulped it back.

→Naomi followed, moving more slowly than Claire had ever seen a vampire move. Myrnin helped her out, which would have looked gallant except for his outfit, which was more like something a crazed beachcomber would wear than a knight in armor, however tarnished.

→Oliver shut his eyes for a moment, then nodded and took her outside.

→Oliver was still pale, and trembling, but he seemed sane, at least; he’d wiped the excess blood he’d gulped off his mouth, but there were still smears of dark red here and there. He didn’t speak, but he held out his arms, and Myrnin, after a brief hesitation, handed Amelie to him.

→Oliver blocked him as he turned for the door.

→The whole thing had a nightmare kind of stillness to it. Claire pulled the Bloodmobile up to the curb and parked it, and Myrnin silently stood up with Amelie in his arms.

→It was silent in Founder’s Square. The cops had formed their lines again; the fight with the mob was over, just some wrecked vehicles left to mark the whole event.

→“For now,” he said. He pulled back the collar of her black shirt, and Claire saw two giant black holes in her skin, three or four times the size of even the messiest vampire bite she’d ever seen. “There’s no cure for a master draug’s bite.”

→“Is she alive?” Claire asked, as Myrnin sat down in the passenger seat with Amelie cradled in his arms. She looked as pale as a marble statue now. Her eyes were closed.

→He didn’t look up. “Drive,” he said. “Take us out of here.” It was a good idea, because Captain Obvious and his friends had finished unloading their bullets into Magnus and the draug, and were piling back into the bed of their pickup, which was revving its engine. Claire jumped into the driver’s seat, started the Bloodmobile, and followed the pickup as it drove away. She couldn’t match its speed, but it didn’t matter. The pickup was racing toward the edge of town, and she didn’t intend to go that way.

→“Myrnin?” Claire asked, short of breath with fear.