Hunters Of The Dusk (Turtleback School & Library Binding Edition) (Cirque Du Freak: Saga of Darren Shan)
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half-vampires become full-vampires when more vampire blood is pumped into them. What we have never discussed — since I did not anticipate it so soon — is the other way in which one’s blood can turn. “Basically, if one remains a half-vampire for an extremely long period of time — the average is forty years — one’s vampire cells eventually attack the human cells and convert them, resulting in full-vampirism. We call this the purge.” “You mean I’ve become a full-vampire?” I asked quietly, both
see how Mr. Crepsley and Harkat were doing. Mr. Crepsley had already got rid of his human, and was striding toward Harkat, who was wrestling with his opponent. Harkat appeared to be winning, but Mr. Crepsley was moving into place to back him up should the battle take a turn for the worse. Satisfied that all was going in our favor, I switched my attention back to the man on the ground, psyching myself up for the unpleasant task of making an end of him. To my surprise, I found him grinning
They raced forward, then stopped by my side when they saw the vampaneze escaping, Vancha standing by and watching. “What the —” Mr. Crepsley began, but then the vampaneze hit flitting speed and disappeared. Vancha looked back at us, then sank to the ground. Mr. Crepsley cursed — not quite as foul as Vancha’s earlier outburst, but close — and sheathed his knives in disgust. “You let them escape!” he shouted. Striding forward, he stood over Vancha and regarded him with undisguised contempt.
the floor, staring up at the green eyes of a chuckling Harkat Mulds. “Have fun last night?” he asked. “I’ve been poisoned,” I moaned, rolling over onto my stomach, feeling as though I was on the deck of a ship during a fierce storm. “You won’t be wanting boar guts and . . . bat broth then?” “Don’t!” I winced, weak at the very thought of food. “You and the others must have drained . . . half the mountain’s supply of ale last night,” Harkat remarked, helping me to my feet. “Is there an
Mika. He hates spiders. He’ll send troops down here to stamp them out.” “Please do not,” Seba said quietly. “Even if they cannot be trained, I enjoy watching them develop. Please do not rid me of one of my few remaining pleasures.” I sighed and cast my eyes to the ceiling. “OK. I won’t tell Mika.” “Nor the others,” he pressed. “I would be highly unpopular if word leaked.” “What do you mean?” Seba cleared his throat guiltily. “The ticks,” he muttered. “The new spiders have been feeding on