This was an excuse that would never go out of fashion, I thought. Not only among the sons of Darkness, but among the most ordinary of human scum.
‘It was all his fault! He had an apartment, a car and an expensive cellphone, and all I had was three roubles, chronic alcoholism and a hangover every morning. That was why I waited for him in the gateway with a brick …’ ‘She had long legs, she was seventeen and she had a handsome boyfriend, and I had impotence, a porn magazine under my pillow and a face like a gorilla’s. I just had to attack her in the hallway when she walked in, humming to herself, with her lips still hot from kisses…’ ‘He had an interesting job, work assignments all over the world and a good reputation, and I had a degree diploma that I’d bought, a petty job working under him and chronic idleness. That was the reason I fixed things so that he would be accused of embezzlement and kicked out of the firm …’
They’re all the same, these people and these Others who are desperate for glory, money or blood and have discovered that the shortest path is always the Dark one.
There’s always somebody who was getting in their way and somebody who was to blame …
Probably when Gennady Saushkin wanted to save his little son he really was trying to do good. He didn’t have a soul, but in his mind and his heart he simply couldn’t accept Kostya’s death. Just as he didn’t want to accept it now. And the Dark way had proved so simple and so short…
For a long time he had teetered on the very brink, if a vampire still has that option open to him. He hadn’t killed people. He had even tried to be honest and kind, and he had managed it. He had even managed to bring Kostya up almost as a human being.
But what makes the short roads different is that you have to pay a levy for using them. And on the Dark roads they like to announce the charge at the end of the journey.
‘Are you satisfied with his explanations?’ I asked.
‘I’m disappointed,’ Edgar replied. ‘But there’s nothing to be done about it now.’
‘There are some things that you can’t put right,’ I agreed.
But to myself I added: ‘And there are some that you can.’
The Twilight customs counter at Edinburgh was empty. There were some forms lying there, and even a search amulet, glowing an even, milky-white colour. The last Other to pass this way had been a Light One. There were no Others on duty.
Edgar pulled me into the Twilight. I still couldn’t use magic, with that damned Schrödinger’s Cat squirming on my neck and occasionally sticking its claws out. I took one look at Gennady and turned away. He was an appalling sight. What was it that Zabulon had said about human children playing at vampires? They ought to be shown what a vampire really looked like. Cheeks eaten away by ulcers; earthen-grey skin; vacant, cloudy-white eyes like hard-boiled eggs with the shell removed.
We walked past the counter and through a door that was closed in the real world, into some kind of service corridor. We went into a small room that was either a poorly furnished janitor’s office or a store for lumber that was already worn out but not yet written off. Chairs with their backs torn off and broken legs, shelves full of dusty boxes and jars, rolls of murky-coloured flooring material.
Edgar jerked me by the shoulder and pulled me back into the real world. I sneezed. It was definitely a temporary store for junk. I blinked as my eyes grew accustomed to the dim lighting – the windows were completely shut off by blinds. I laughed. Well now, I could award myself another point in this game.
Sitting in a chair that was better preserved than all the others was a beautiful woman with black hair. The simple everyday clothes – trousers and a blouse – seemed entirely inappropriate on her. She ought to have had a long dress that emphasised her femininity, or something light and airy, white and transparent, or nothing at all.
But she would have made any clothes look good. Even a hobo’s old suit.
I admired her once again. Like that first time when our paths had crossed.
‘Hello, Arina,’ I said.
‘Hello, sorcerer.’ She held out her hand, and I pressed my lips to the palm.
Even though I had seen her in her Twilight form.
Even though I knew that this magnificent body, so healthy and overflowing with vitality, only existed in the human world.
‘You’re not surprised,’ said Arina.
‘Not a bit,’ I said, shaking my head.
‘He knew,’ Edgar put in. And from the way he spoke I suddenly realised that he was not the most important member of the trio. Maybe Edgar was the one who had stirred everything up in the first place, and he had supplied the Last Watch’s battle magic, but he wasn’t the most important one there.
‘Svetlana guessed?’ Arina surmised.
‘We decided together,’ I said. ‘By the way, you’re a Light One now, aren’t you? Pardon me, but I won’t risk looking at your aura – I’ve got this little kitten dozing round my neck …’
‘Yes, I am,’ Arina said calmly. ‘But you already knew that Great Ones can change colour, didn’t you?’
‘Merlin changed,’ I said casually. ‘I have a question for you, witch, or whatever you are now. Healer?’
Arina didn’t answer.
‘You gave a promise to my wife. Swore an oath. That for a hundred years …’
‘I would not cause harm to anyone, neither Others, nor people, except in self-defence,’ Arina continued.
‘Surely changing your colour hasn’t released you from your oath.’
‘But I haven’t killed anyone, Anton. I fitted out Edgar and Gennady, but that’s a different matter altogether. That didn’t violate the oath.’
‘Svetlana took pity on you,’ I said. ‘She took pity on you.’
‘Perhaps she was right to, Anton,’ Arina said, smiling. ‘Look, I’ve become a Light One. And I haven’t harmed your wife and daughter, have I?’
‘And what about the nuclear weapon that Edgar is threatening to explode beside our house? In how many hours’ time?’ I asked, looking at the former Inquisitor.
Edgar raised one hand and looked at his watch. He said:
‘The thing is, Anton, that to be really interested in the success of our venture, you had to feel a real personal involvement.’
Before he had even finished speaking, I felt a heavy throbbing in my temples and a mist seemed to obscure my vision.
‘The explosion took place five minutes ago,’ Edgar said dispassionately. ‘I haven’t broken my oath – the time was set yesterday … And don’t get emotional, please. If Schrödinger’s Cat finishes you off, you won’t be able to help your wife and daughter.’
I had no intention of using magic.
The dead always have trouble with taking revenge. Especially dead Others. I didn’t need that kind of trouble.
I kicked Edgar. Maybe not as elegantly as Olga kicked open the lock on Saushkin’s door. But I think I kicked harder.
Edgar flew back against the wall, struck it hard with the back of his head and slowly slid down it, catching at his crotch with his hands.
Then Gennady jumped me. He grabbed me across the chest with superhuman strength, pulled my head back with his free hand and bared his teeth …
‘Gena!’ Arina only said a single word, but the vampire’s fangs were instantly withdrawn. ‘Edgar asked for what he got. Calm down, Anton. Our grey friend was mistaken.’
Edgar groaned as he rolled around the floor, clutching his crotch. I’d hit the right spot.
‘There hasn’t been any explosion,’ Arina continued. She got up and came towards us, then looked into my face. ‘Hey, Anton! Calm down. There hasn’t been any explosion!’