Murmur4ik: переводы

→“Yeah, but it’s just as perfect . . . just as beautiful. I don’t know. I thought as a human you’d look . . . ordinary.”

→He chose to answer the last one. “Because my job here is done. Time to go on to another.”

→“I love Seattle,” I said, turning back to look across the dark water. “But I love Seth more. I’ll talk to him. Andrea’s been doing better, so we can go. I don’t know where, but we’ll figure it out.” I sighed and looked back at him. “Is your other piece of information less depressing?”

→“I know, I know. And I don’t think they would, exactly, but it’s an ugly position for them to be in. You should really think about leaving Seattle. You’ll make it easier on everyone if you just remove that temptation.”

→“I plan on staying off Hell’s radar,” I said honestly.

→“No. You won’t be seeing him anymore. Well.” Carter paused a moment. “Let’s just say, I hope you won’t be seeing him anymore.”

→I thought about kind, generous Erik, bleeding to death before my eyes. “It’s relevant to me.”

→Roman put his hand on mine. “Not easily,” he murmured. “There’ll be no paper trail, I guarantee it. And it’s not relevant to this case right now.”

→“It’s not! We can get proof—”

→Niphon couldn’t get out of there fast enough. He practically barreled into Jerome when they passed in the aisle. For his part, Jerome was sauntering along casually, as though all of this were beneath him and it was a great concession on his part to even show. He sat down, crossing his hands neatly in front of him and affecting a bored look.

→There was a collective gasp among some, but whether that was from Roman acknowledging Jerome as his father or simply the summoning of such a high-ranking witness, I couldn’t say. Hannibal nodded.

→Marcel addressed the jury. “Is he telling the truth? He made the second contract out of ignorance and not malicious intent? By which I mean, no more malicious intent than is normally called for in these situations.”

→“It doesn’t matter if it was in ignorance,” said Roman. “That’s never an excuse for breaking the law. You messed up, and in doing so, you’ve invalidated both contracts.”

→He flashed everyone a big grin, perfect white teeth standing out against his tanned skin. He riffled through some papers in front of him. “All right,” he said. “So, what . . . we have a contract dispute with a succubus? Letha?” He glanced around, like there was some big mystery about who I was. His gaze landed on me, and he nodded to himself. “Who’s prosecuting? You? Marcel?”

→Judge Hannibal entered through a door opposite the jury’s. For a moment, I simply thought, He’s so young. Then, I remembered I was thinking like a human. No one in this room—except me—wore their actual form. All of them were beings of incalculable age, and the twenty-something, blond surfer appearance of Judge Hannibal was just window dressing.

→A guy in a much more cheerful suit than the prosecutor walked to the front of the room and called the court to order. He announced the entrance of Judge Hannibal, which would have been a hilarious and absurd name in other circumstances. Everyone stood, and I followed suit. The show of respect kind of surprised me. The adherence to procedure did not.

→Sure enough. Jerome had just entered the courtroom. Even in Hell, he still wore the John Cusack guise. Mei was with him, and it was the sound of their conversation that had caught my attention. They made their way to some seats near the front, on the opposite side of the room from me, that I presumed had been left open for them. A pang of relief shot through my chest. Finally, familiar faces. I opened my mouth to speak, to call out to Jerome . . . just as his eyes fell on me. He paused in his walk, fixing me with a look that pierced straight to my heart. Then, without any other sort of acknowledgment, he looked away and continued his conversation with Mei as they went to their seats. The words died on my lips. The coldness in his gaze left no question that all the laid-back ease at the bowling alley had been a scam.

→He glanced at the clock. “Let’s at least go out to dinner. Dress up and get a good meal. Then we’ll come back and watch all the New Year’s shows.”

→“Come on,” Roman said. “You can’t just sit around tonight. It’s a new year . . . new opportunities. Maybe even the chance to break free of Hell.”

→I knew Peter was counting on it, but it was hard to make myself feel like celebrating. “No. I’m not in the mood. Besides, I’m not sure I want to risk running into Jerome since I’m sure Mei’s going to tell him about the appeal. I’ll just keep packing.”