«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.

It was all true. It couldn't possibly be true, but it was…

It had happened yesterday. It had happened to him.

He'd been late coming home, sure, but he'd come home later than that before. Even his parents who, Egor was quite certain, hadn't realized yet that he was almost thirteen years old, thought nothing of it.

When he left the swimming pool with the other guys… yes, it was ten o'clock already. They all piled into McDonald's and sat there for about twenty minutes. That was the usual thing too, after training everyone who could afford it went to McDonald's. Then… then they all walked to the metro together. It wasn't far. Along a brightly lit street. Eight of them together.

Everything was still fine then.

It was in the metro that he'd started feeling uneasy. He looked at his watch, stared around at the other passengers. But there was nothing suspicious.

Except that Egor could hear music.

And then things that couldn't happen had started happening.

Without knowing why, he turned into a dark, stinking alleyway. He walked up to a girl and a young guy who were waiting for him. They'd lured him there. And he offered his own neck to the girl's long, sharp fangs that weren't even human.

Even now, at home on his own, Egor could feel that chill—that sweet, enticing tingle running across his skin. He'd wanted it to happen! He'd been afraid, but he'd wanted the touch of the gleaming fangs, the sharp, short pain, and then… and then… there'd be something else… there had to be…

And no one in the whole wide world could help him. Egor remembered the way the woman who was walking her dogs had looked straight through him. An alert glance, not at all indifferent—she hadn't been frightened, she simply couldn't see what was happening… Egor had been saved only by the third vampire turning up. That pale guy with the Walkman who'd started trailing him back in the metro. They'd fought over him the way hungry, full-grown wolves quarrel over a deer they've cornered but not killed yet.

Then everything had got confused; it all happened too fast. Someone shouted something about some watch or other, about the twilight. There was a flash of blue light, and one vampire crumbled into dust right there in front of his eyes, just like in the movies. The girl-vampire was howling because she'd had something splashed into her face.

Then he'd fled in panic…

And now he realized something terrible, even more terrible than what had happened: He couldn't tell anyone anything. They wouldn't believe him. They wouldn't understand.

Vampires don't exist!

It's not possible to look straight through people and not see them!

Nobody just burns up in a swirl of blue flame, and turns into a dried mummy, a skeleton, a handful of ash!

«They do!» Egor told himself. «They do exist. It is possible. It does happen!»

But even he could hardly believe it…

Egor didn't go to school, but he did clean up the apartment. He wanted to do something. Several times he went across to the window and looked carefully around the yard.

Nothing suspicious.

But would he be able to see them?

They would come. Egor didn't doubt it for a single second. They knew he remembered them. Now they would kill him, because he was a witness.

But they wouldn't just kill him! They'd drink his blood and turn him into a vampire.

The boy walked over to the bookshelf, where half the shelves were filled with videocassettes. Maybe he could look for some advice here? Dracula, Dead and Loving It … no, that was comedy. Once Bitten —absolute garbage… Night of Terror . . . Egor shuddered. He remembered that film. And now he'd never dare watch it again. What did it say again? Oh, right… «A crucifix helps, if you believe in it.»

But how could a crucifix help him? He wasn't even baptized. And he didn't believe in God. At least, he hadn't believed before.

Maybe he ought to start now?

If vampires existed, then so did the devil, and if the devil existed, then God did too?

If vampires existed, then so did God?

If Evil existed, then so did Good?

«It's all nonsense,» said Egor. He stuck his hands into the pockets of his jeans, went out into the hallway and looked in the mirror. He was reflected in the mirror. A bit too gloomy, maybe, but just a perfectly normal kid. That meant everything was still okay, so far. They hadn't managed to bite him.

Just to make sure, he twisted this way and that, trying to see the back of his neck. No, there were no marks, nothing. Just a skinny neck, maybe not too clean…

The idea suddenly hit him. Egor dashed into the kitchen, frightening the cat off its comfortable spot on the washing machine. He started rummaging through the bags of potatoes, onions, and carrots.

There it was, the garlic.

Egor hastily peeled one head and started chewing it. The garlic was fierce; it burned his mouth. Egor poured a glass of tea and started taking a mouthful after every clove. It didn't help much; his tongue was on fire and his gums itched. But it was sure to help, wasn't it?

The cat peeped back into the kitchen, gaped at the boy in amazement, gave a disappointed meow, and went away. He couldn't understand how anyone could eat anything so disgusting.

Egor chewed up the last two cloves, spat them out into his palm, and started rubbing them on his neck. He could have laughed at himself for doing it, but he wasn't going to stop now.