Un nuevo extracto de The Clockwork Angel!!!(aun en ingles)

Hola!!
les dejo por el momento el extracto en ingles pues lo acabo de encontrar...esta misma noche lo traduzco para ustedes ^^ !

The Clockwork Angel- Tessa meets Jem

Tessa woke, gasping, the book sliding off her lap as she sat up. The dream
was gone, but the music remained, high and haunting and sweet. She made her way
to the door and peered out into the hallway.The music was louder in the
corridor. In fact, it was coming from the room across the hall. It was ajar
slightly, and notes seemed to pour through the opening like water through the
narrow neck of a vase.As if in a dream, Tessa crossed the hall and put her hand
gently to the door; it swung open under her touch. The room within was dark, lit
only by moonlight — she saw that it was not unlike her own bedroom across the
hall: the same large four-poster bed, the same dark heavy furniture. The
curtains had been pulled back from one tall window and pale silver light poured
into the room like a rain of needles. In the square patch of moonlight just
before the window, someone was standing. A boy — he seemed too slight to be a
grown man — with a violin propped against his shoulder: his cheek rested against
it, and the bow sawed back and forth over the strings, wringing notes out of
it.His eyes were closed. “Will?” he said, without opening them or ceasing to
play, “Will, is that you?”Tessa said nothing. She could not bear to speak, to
interrupt the music – but in a moment, the boy broke it off himself, lowering
his bow and opening his eyes with a frown.“Will —” he started, and then, seeing
Tessa, his lips parted in surprise. “You’re not Will.”He sounded curious, but
not at all annoyed, despite the fact that Tessa had barged into his bedroom in
the middle of the night and surprised him playing the violin in his
nightclothes, or what Tessa assumed were his nightclothes — he wore a sort of
light, loose-fitting set of trousers and a shirt with a black silk dressing-gown
tied over them. She had been right: he was young, probably the same age as Will,
and the impression of youth was heightened by his slightness. He was tall but
very slender, and disappearing below the collar of his shirt, she could see the
curling edges of the black designs that she had earlier seen on Will’s skin, and
on Charlotte’s.She knew what they were called now. Marks. And she knew what they
made him. Nephilim. The descendant of men and angels. No wonder that in the
moonlight his pale skin seemed to shine like Will’s witchlight stone: his hair
was pale silver as well, as were his eyes.“I’m so sorry,” she said, clearing her
throat. The noise sounded terribly harsh to her, and loud in the silence of the
room; she wanted to cringe. “I — I didn’t mean to come in here like this. It’s
just — my room is across the hall, and . . .”“That’s all right.” He lowered the
violin from his shoulder. “You’re Miss Gray, aren’t you? The shapechanger girl.
Will told me a bit about you.”“Oh,” Tessa said.“Oh?” His eyebrows rose. “You
don’t sound terribly pleased that I know who you are.”“It’s just that I think
Will is angry with me,” Tessa explained. “So whatever he told you —”He laughed.
“Will is angry with everyone,” he said. “I don’t let it color my
judgement.”