«I believe you.» I got the impression she was already getting tipsy.
«It's lousy work… we all have to go against our human nature, but going that far… Anyway, Anton, they won't be able to handle it. I… can at least try, though even I can't be absolutely certain of success.»
«Olga, if this is all so serious, you should put in a report…«
The woman shook her head and straightened out her wet hair.
«I can't. I'm forbidden to associate with anyone except Boris Ignatievich and my partner on the assignment. I've told him everything. All I can do now is wait. And hope that I'll be able to deal with this—at the very last moment.»
«But doesn't the boss understand all that?»
«I think he understands it all very well.»
«So that's the way…« I whispered.
«We were lovers. For a very long time. And we were friends too, something you don't find so often… Okay, Anton. Today we solve the problem of the boy and the crazed vampire. Tomorrow we wait. We wait for the Inferno to erupt. Agreed?»
«I have to think about it, Olga.»
«Fine. Think. But my time's up already. Turn away.»
I didn't have time. It was probably Olga's own fault. She'd miscalculated how much time she had left.
It was a genuinely repulsive sight. Olga shuddered and arched over backward. A spasm ran through her body and the bones bent as if they were made of rubber. Her skin split open, revealing the bleeding muscles. A moment later, and the woman had been transformed into a formless, crumpled bundle of flesh. And the ball kept shrinking, getting smaller and smaller and sprouting soft, white feathers…
The polar owl launched itself off the stool with a cry that sounded half-human, half-bird and fluttered across to its chosen place on the refrigerator.
«Hell and damnation!» I exclaimed, forgetting all the rules and instructions. «Olga!»
«Isn't it lovely?» The woman's voice was gasping, still distorted by pain.
«Why? Why like that?»
«It's part of the punishment, Anton.»
I reached out my hand and touched one outstretched, trembling wing.
«Okay, Olga, I agree.»
«Then let's get to work, Anton.»
I nodded and went out into the hallway. I opened the cupboard where I kept my equipment and moved into the Twilight—otherwise you simply can't see anything in there except clothes and a load of old junk.
A light body settled on to my shoulder.
«What have you got?»
«I discharged the onyx amulet. Can you recharge it?»
«No, I've been deprived of almost all my powers. All they left me is what's required to neutralize the inferno. And my memory, Anton… they left me my memory. How are you going to kill the girl-vampire?»
«She's not registered,» I said. «I've only got the old folk methods.»
The owl gave a screeching laugh.
«Are poplar stakes still popular?»
«I don't have one.»
«Right. Because of your friends?»
«Yes. I don't want them to shudder every time they step inside the door.»
«What, then?»
I took a pistol out of a hollow gouged out in the bricks and squinted sideways at the owl—Olga was studying the gun.
«Silver? Very painful for a vampire, but not fatal.»
«It has explosive bullets.» I slid the clip out of the Desert Eagle. «Explosive silver bullets. Forty-four caliber. Three hits and a vampire's totally helpless.»
«And then?»
«Traditional methods.»
«I don't believe in technology,» Olga said doubtfully. «I've seen a werewolf regenerate after being torn to pieces by a shell.»
«How long did it take to regenerate?»
«Three days.»
«Well, there you are then.»
«All right, Anton. If you have no faith in your own powers…«
She was disappointed, I realized that. But then I was no field operative. I was a staff worker assigned to work in the field.
«Everything will be fine,» I reassured her. «Trust me. Let's just focus on finding the bait.» «Okay, let's go.»
«This is where it all happened,» I told Olga. We were standing in the alley. In the Twilight, of course.
The occasional passersby looked funny skirting around me when they couldn't see me.
«This is where you killed the vampire.» Olga's tone of voice couldn't possibly have been more brisk. «Right… I understand. You did a poor job cleaning up the garbage… but that's not important…«
As far as I could see, there wasn't a trace left of the departed vampire. But I didn't argue.
«The girl-vampire was here… you hit her with something here… no, you splashed vodka on her…« Olga laughed quietly. «She got away… Our operatives have completely lost their touch. The trail's still clear even now!»
«She changed,» I said morosely.
«Into a bat?»
«Yes. Garik said she did it at the very last moment.»
«That's bad. This vampire's more powerful than I was hoping.»
«She's completely wild. She's drunk living blood and killed. She has no experience, but plenty of power.»
«We'll destroy her,» Olga said sternly.
I didn't say anything.
«And here's the boy's trail.» There was a note of approval in Olga's voice. «Yes indeed… good potential. Let's go and see where he lives.»
We walked out of the alley and set off along the sidewalk. The houses surrounded a large inner yard on all sides. I could sense the boy's aura too, but it was very weak and confused: He walked around here all the time.
«Straight ahead,» Olga commanded. «Turn left. Farther. Turn right. Stop…«
I stopped facing a street with a streetcar crawling slowly
I stopped facing a street with a streetcar crawling slowly along it. I didn't emerge from the Twilight yet.
«In that building,» Olga told me. «Straight ahead. That's where he is.»
The building was a huge monster, an immensely tall, flat slab set on tall legs or stilts. At first glance it looked like some gigantic monument to the matchbox. Look again and you could see it was an expression of morbid gigantomania.
«That's a good house for killing in,» I said. «You could go insane in there.»
«Let's try both,» Olga agreed. «I've got plenty of experience.»
Egor didn't want to go out. When his parents left to go to work and the door slammed, he felt the fear immediately. And he knew that outside the bounds of the empty apartment the fear would turn into terror.
There was nothing that could save him. Nothing anywhere. But at least his home gave him the illusion of safety.
Last night the world had crumbled, the world had completely collapsed. Egor had always admitted quite honestly—at least to himself, if not in public—that he wasn't really brave. But he wasn't exactly a coward either. There were some things it was only right to be afraid of: young thugs, maniacs, terrorists, disasters, fires, wars, deadly diseases. To him, they were all lumped together—and all equally far away. All these things really did exist, but at the same time they remained beyond his everyday experience. Follow simple rules, don't wander the streets at night, don't go into unfamiliar districts, wash your hands before eating, don't jump onto the railway lines. It was possible to be afraid of unpleasant things and at the same time know there wasn't much chance they would mess up your life.
Now everything had changed.
There were some things you couldn't hide from. Things that shouldn't exist, that couldn't exist.
But vampires did exist.
He remembered it all distinctly; the horror hadn't wiped his memory clean, the way he'd vaguely hoped it would yesterday, when he was running home, breaking the rules by running across the street without looking. And his timid hope that in the morning everything that had happened would turn out to be a dream had proved wrong too.