esta en ingles pero ahora mismo me pongo a traducirlo ^^
Excerpt taking from Chapter Eight: "Camille"
Fruits fail and love dies and time ranges;
Thou art fed with perpetual breath,
And alive after infinite changes,
And fresh from the kisses of death;
Of languours rekindled and rallied,
Of barren delights and unclean,
Things monstrous and fruitless, a pallid
And poisonous queen.
Tessa was only halfway down the corridor when they caught up to her: Will and Jem, each walking on either side of her. "You didn’t honestly think we weren’t going to come along, did you?" Will asked, raising his hand and letting the witchlight flare up between his fingers, lighting the corridor to a daylight brightness. Charlotte hurrying along ahead of them, turned and frowned, but said nothing.
"I know you can’t leave anything well enough alone." Tessa looked straight ahead. "But I thought better of Jem."
"Where Will goes, I go," Jem said, good-naturedly. "And besides, I’m as curious as he is."
"That hardly seems a subject for boasting. Where are we going?" she added, startled, as they reached the end of the corridor. The hall stretched away behind them; there was nothing in front of them but a blank stone wall. "Have we turned the wrong way . . .?"
"Patience is a virtue, Miss Gray," said Will. "You would do well to learn it."
"If you think—" Tessa began, and broke off as Charlotte took a stele from the pocket of her voluminous skirt. It seemed to glow with a dull internal light as Charlotte placed the tip of it against the stone of the wall, and drew, as if she were scrawling on a piece of paper. A thick black line spiraled out from the tip, forming the whorls and scrolls of a strong, delicate design.
As Tessa stared, a grinding noise came from within the stone, and a section of the wall swung open, showing another long corridor beyond. The walls were bare of tapestries or torches: Tessa realized why Will had lit his witchlight stone. He raised his hand now, and the light shone down into the corridor, which Tessa could se now was sharply curving, disappearing almost instantly away into shadows.
"This is the entrance to our Sanctuary," said Charlotte. "This is the place we meet with those who for whatever reason cannot enter hallowed ground. Those who are cursed. Vampires."
She started down the corridor, the others following after her.
"Is it a curse? Being a vampire?" Tessa asked.
Charlotte shook her head. "No. We think it is a sort of demon disease. There are demons who feed on blood, and demons who, like werewolves, shift their shapes with the phases of the moon and the movement of planets. When passed to humans, these diseases manifest in what we think of as vampirism or lycanthropy. Most demon diseases aren't transmissible to humans at all, with a few exceptions—"
"Demon pox," interrupted Will.
"Will, there’s no such thing as demon pox, and you know it," Charlotte said. "Now, where was I?"
"Being a vampire isn’t a curse," Tessa filled in. "But they still can’t enter hallowed ground, then? Does that mean they’re damned?"
"That depends on what you believe," said Jem. "And whether you even believe in damnation at all."
"But you hunt demons. You must believe in damnation!"
"I believe in good and evil," said Jem. "And I believe the soul is eternal. But I don’t believe in the fiery pit, the pitchforks, or endless torment. I do not believe you can threaten people into goodness."
Tessa looked at Will. "What about you? What do you believe?"
"Pulvis et umbra sumus," said Will, not looking at her as he spoke. "I believe we are dust and shadows. What else is there?"
"Whatever you believe, please don’t suggest to Camille Belcourt that you think she’s damned," said Charlotte. She had come to a halt where the corridor ended in a set of high iron doors, each carved with a curious symbol that looked like four back-to-back C’s. She turned and looked at her three companions. "She’s very kindly offered to help us, and there’s no purpose in offering her such insults. That applies to you especially, Will. If you can’t be polite, I’ll send you out of the Sanctuary. Jem, I trust you to be your charming self. Tessa . . ." Charlotte turned her grave, kind eyes on Tessa. "Try not to be frightened."