The Twilight Watch by Sergei Lukyanenko

will guard the car,' I told him. 'This is a very responsible assignment. We are relying on you.'

'I serve the Light!' Roman barked.

'I'd never have believed it . . .' Las groaned on the back seat. 'Shall I guard the car too?'

'Yes.' I nodded. 'Only . . . please, please . . . don't try to run away.'

I heard more gurgling from the back seat. Maybe I ought to turn Las to the Light too? It would be more humane . . . the poor man was suffering unnecessary torment.

But I had no time left to think about it – the car flew out onto the square in front of the terminal building and pulled up at the entrance with a squeal of brakes. Nobody took any notice – someone was late for their flight, it happened all the time . . .

I took out Arina's note and looked at the compass.

The pointer was swaying, but it still indicated a definite direction.

Had Kostya sensed my approach? Gesar had been sure he would.

What lay in store for me?

Strangely enough, up until that moment, I hadn't felt any fear. In my heart of hearts I hadn't been prepared to see Kostya as an enemy – and especially not the kind of enemy who might kill me. I was a second-grade magician – that was already something not to be taken lightly. I had the entire might of the Night Watch behind me and now – something quite unheard of – the might of the Day Watch as well. What could one solitary vampire possibly do to me, even if he was a Higher Vampire?

But just at that moment I recalled Witiezslav's face with his fangs bared.

Kostya had killed him. Overwhelmed him.

'Las,' I said curtly. 'One small request . . .Walk behind me. At a distance. If anything happens . . . they'll find you afterwards, tell them about it.'

Las gulped, dropped the empty bottle on the seat and said soberly:

'I'll do it, why not? Forward, my pale-faced Blade!'

It seemed like he was past the point of worrying about anything. Getting drunk is a good way to give yourself partial protection against a vampire. They find the blood of someone who's drunk unpleasant – and if he's really drunk it's toxic to them. Maybe that was why vampires had always preferred Europe to Russia?

But a vampire doesn't have to drink the blood of someone he's killed. Nourishment is one thing, but business is business.

'Don't come close,' I repeated. 'Keep your distance.'

'Watch your back, boss!' Roman told me. 'Good luck! We're counting on you!'

I looked at him and remembered Zabulon's parting words.

How alike we are.

How alike all of us are – Others and people, Dark Ones and Light Ones.

'Keep it cool, no rush, no aggression,' I said to myself, glancing at the men smoking by the entrance to the terminal building. Most of them were respectable types, wearing ties. The cleaning woman in an orange work jacket standing beside them and puffing away on a Prima looked absurd.

'Calmly and quietly . . .'

I walked towards the building. The smokers moved aside to make way – there was so much Power in me now that even ordinary people could sense it.

Sense it, and do the sensible thing – move aside.

I looked round as I went in. Las was shambling after me, smiling benignly.

Where are you, Kostya?

Where are you, Higher Vampire who has never killed for the sake of Power?

Where are you, boy who dreams of becoming Lord of the World, like in some Hollywood action movie?

In the same place as the vampire trying to cheat his own destiny . . .

I will kill you.

Not 'I must kill you', not 'I can kill you', not 'I want to kill you'. No more auxiliary verbs. I've already been through 'I must' – in tearful soul-searching and self-justification. I've already been through 'I can' – struggling with the complexes of a third-grade magician who has reached his ceiling. I've already been through 'I want to' – with all those turbulent emotions: the passion, the fury, the pity.

Now I'm simply doing what I have to do.

I couldn't give a hoot for false ideals and fake goals, hypocritical slogans and two-faced principles. I don't believe in the Light or the Dark any longer. Light is just a stream of photons. Dark is just the absence of Light. People are our young brothers and sisters. The Others are the salt of the earth.

Where are you, Kostya Saushkin?

Whatever your goal is –

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