. . . And I wasn't the only one working on this business, I was just a pawn who had been advanced, carrying out local reconnaissance work. Gesar was wrinkling his brow, Zabulon knitting his eyebrows, Witiezslav scowling and baring those teeth. A human wanted to become an Other – hunt him down, get him!
But who wouldn't want it?
Not the eternal hunger of the vampires, not the insane fits of the werewolves, but the full, complete life of a magician. With everything that ordinary people had.
Only better.
You're not afraid anyone will steal the expensive stereo from your car when you leave it unwatched.
You don't get sick with flu, and if you come down with some vile incurable disease, the Dark Sorcerers or the Light Healers are at your service.
You don't wonder how you're going to survive until pay day.
You don't feel afraid of dark streets at night or drunken bums.
You're not even afraid of the militia.
You're certain your child will get home safely from school and not run into some crazy maniac in the front hallway . . .
Yes, of course, that was where the real problem lay. Your nearest and dearest were safe, they were even excluded from the vampire lottery. Only you couldn't save them from old age and death.
But after all, that was still a long way off. Somewhere in the future, far ahead.
On the whole it was far better to be an Other.
What's more, you wouldn't gain anything if you refused initiation, even your human relatives would be right to call you a fool. After all, if you became an Other, you'd be able to help them out. Like that story of Semyon's . . . someone put a hex on a peasant's cows, and his Other son had an investigator sent in to help him. Blood is thicker than water, after all, your own flesh and blood is dearest. Nothing to be done about that . . .
I jerked upright as if I'd been electrocuted. I jumped to my feet and stared up at the buildings of the Assol complex.
What reason could a Light Magician have for making a rash promise to do absolutely anything?
There was only one reason.
That was it, the lead.
'Have you come up with something, Anton?' a voice asked behind my back.
I turned round and looked into the black lenses of Kostya's glasses. He was wearing just bathing trunks – appropriate attire for the beach – and a child's white panama hat perched on the back of his head like a skullcap (no doubt he'd taken it away from some toddler without any qualms of conscience) as well as the dark glasses.
'Finding the sun hot?' I asked spitefully.
'It's oppressive. Hanging up there in the sky like a flat-iron . . . Why, aren't you feeling hot?'
'Sure,' I admitted. 'But it's a different kind of heat.'
'Can we manage without the sarcasm?' Kostya asked. He sat down on the sand and fastidiously tossed aside a cigarette butt from near his feet. 'I only go swimming at night now. But this time I came . . . to have a word with you.'
I felt ashamed. The person sitting in front of me was a moody young man, it made no difference that he was undead. And I still remembered the gloomy teenager hovering uncertainly at the door of my apartment. 'You shouldn't invite me in, I'm a vampire, I could come in the night and bite you . . .'
And that boy had held out for a pretty long time. He'd drunk pig's blood and donors' blood. He'd dreamed of becoming alive again. 'Like Pinocchio' – he must have read Collodi or seen the movie AI, but anyway he'd found the right comparison.
If only Gesar hadn't detailed me to hunt vampires . . .
No, that was nonsense. Nature would have taken its course. And Kostya would have been given his licence.
And in any case I had no right to scoff at him. I had one huge advantage – I was alive.
I could approach old people without feeling ashamed. Yes, without any shame, because Witiezslav hadn't been honest with me. It wasn't fear or revulsion that had made him avoid the old woman.
It was shame.
'Sorry, Kostya,' I said and lay down on the sand beside him. 'Let's talk.'
'It seems to me that the permanent residents at Assol have nothing to do with it,' Kostya began gloomily. 'The client is only there occasionally.'
'We'll have to check them all,' I said faking a sigh.