Сергей Лукьяненко - Day Watch

But I particularly disliked that song.

I was only two or three steps away from Igor when I realized that he was there on the beach alone. Igor noticed me too-he raised his head and smiled, still singing:

Maybe I am wrong,

Maybe you are right.

But I have seen with my own eyes

The grass reaching for the sky.

Why should we argue all night long

And lie sleepless till the dawn?

Maybe I am wrong,

Maybe you are right.

What good is arguing to us,

The day will come and then

You'll see for yourself

If there's a bottom to the sky

And why

The grass reaches up to it…

I sat down beside him on a large fluffy towel spread out on the sand and waited patiently for the song to end. When Igor finally put down his guitar, I asked him: "Playing for the waves and the sand?"

"For the stars and the wind," he corrected me. "I thought it would be hard for you to find me in the dark. And I didn't like the idea of bringing a tape deck."

"Why not?"

He shrugged. "Surely you can feel it? This is a time for living sound."

Igor was right. Maybe I didn't agree with his choice of song, but I was all for the idea of living sound…

I looked him over without saying anything-or rather, I tried to look him over in the darkness. He was barefoot, dressed in nothing but his shorts. His hair had a wet gleam to it-he must have been in the sea already. He reminded me of someone at that moment… someone from one of the old fairy tales, either a jolly troubadour or a prince dressed up as a troubadour…

"The water's warm," Igor said. "Shall we go in?"

That was when I realized I'd been in too much of a hurry to get to the beach.

"Igor… you'll laugh at me… I can't go swimming. I forgot my bathing costume."

He thought for a moment and then asked very calmly, "Are you shy? Or are you afraid I'll think you did it deliberately?"

"I'm not afraid, but I don't want you to think that."

"I don't think that at all," Igor said and stood up. "I'll go into the water and you come and join me."

He took off his shorts right at the water's edge, started to run, and dived almost immediately. I didn't hesitate for long. I hadn't even thought about seducing Igor in such a primitive way-I really had forgotten my bathing costume in my room. But there was no way I was going to feel shy, especially in front of an ordinary human being.

The water was warm and the waves caressed me like a lover's hands. I swam after Igor, and the shoreline receded and blurred until only the lighted lamps marked Artek out in the night. We swam far beyond the buoy, probably a kilometer from the shore. I caught up with Igor, and then we were swimming beside each other in silence, not saying a single word. Not competing with each other, moving in the same rhythm.

Finally he stopped, looked at me, and said, "That's enough."

"Are you tired?" I asked, a little surprised. It had seemed to me that he could go on swimming forever… and I-well, I could have swum across the Black Sea and got out in Turkey.

"No, I'm not tired. But the night is deceptive, Alisa. This is the maximum distance I could pull you to the shore if anything happened."

I remembered what Natasha had said about him being "reliable." Looking into his face, I realized it wasn't bravado and he wasn't joking. He really was in control of the situation at every moment. And he was ready to save me.

You funny little human being. In the morning or tomorrow night I'll gather a little more Power - and then I'll be able to do whatever I like with you. And it won't be you who'll save me if anything happens. I'll save you - you big, strong, confident, reliable man… But right now you're sure of yourself, sure of your ability to protect and save, like a little child walking along a dark street with his mother and telling her, "Don't be afraid, Mom, I'm here …"

Maybe it is in the style of the Light Ones, but even so, I like it somehow…

I swam slowly up to Igor. Right up to him. I put my arms around him and whispered, "Save me."

The water was warm, but his body was hotter than the water. He was as naked as I was. We kissed, sometimes going under the water, then surfacing with a rush and gulping in the air and searching for each other's lips again.

"I want to go back to the beach," I whispered. We started swimming, sometimes touching each other, sometimes stopping to exchange another long kiss. I had the taste of salt and his lips on my lips, my body seemed to be on fire, the blood was pounding in my temples. You could drown like that… from the excitement, from the impatience, from the longing to be closer.

About five meters from the beach, where the water was already shallow, Igor picked me up in his arms as easily as if I weighed nothing at all, carried me to our clothes and put me down. I felt the towel under my back and the stars swayed over my head.

"Come on…" I whispered, spreading my legs. Like a depraved little girl, like a seasoned slut… and this was me, a witch of the Moscow Day Watch who was loved by Zabulon himself!

But right now that didn't bother me at all. There was only the night, the stars, Igor…

He lowered himself toward me, his right hand slid under my back and caught me between the shoulder blades, his left hand slid across my breasts and for just a moment he looked into my eyes-as if he were doubtful, hesitating, as if he weren't feeling the same burning desire for intimacy that I was. I arched up involuntarily to meet his body, felt for his aroused member with my hips, swayed-and it was only then that he entered me.

How I wanted him…

It was like nothing else in the world. Not like sex with Zabulon, who always took on the form of a demon for this. With Zabulon I had always experienced a wild, painful pleasure, but it had always had a feeling of humiliation in it, sweet and arousing, but still humiliation. Not like sex with ordinary men, whether they were inexperienced youths full of strength, hefty hunks, or experienced, aging womanizers. I'd tried everything. I knew it all and I could make an evening with any man interesting in its own way.

But this was different.

It was as if we really did become one, as if my desires were immediately transmitted to him and his to me. I could feel the trembling of his member that had entered my body, and I knew that he could come at any moment, but he was putting that moment off and I was balanced there on the same agonizingly sweet, timeless boundary of pleasure.

It was as if he had known me for years and could read me like an open book. His hands responded to the desires of my body before I could even feel them myself, his fingers knew where to be gentle and where to be rough, his lips slid over my face without stopping for an instant, his thrusts became more and more powerful, carrying me up into the dark sky on a swingboat of delight and I whispered something without knowing what I was saying…

And then the world stopped and I groaned, clutching at his shoulders and scratching, moving after him, not wanting to let him go. The pleasure was as brief as a flash of lightning, and as blindingly bright. But he didn't stop, and I was buoyed up again, balancing on that wave of sweetness-and at the precise moment when his eyes opened wide and his body went totally rigid, I came again. But this time in a different way-the pleasure wasn't as piercing, it was long and pulsating-as if it were following the rhythm of his sperm, spurting into my body.

I couldn't even groan anymore. We lay beside each other- I was on the towel and Igor was on the sand-touching each other, caressing each other, as if our hands had a life of their own. I pressed my cheek against his chest, catching the salty smell of the sea and the sour smell of sweat, his body shuddering under my hand. And I didn't even realize when I started kissing him, moving lower and lower and burying my face in the rough hair, caressing him with my lips and my tongue, feeling the excitement mounting in him again. Igor lay there without moving, just touching my shoulders with his hands. And that was right, that was what he should do, because now I wanted to give him pleasure. And when he came again with a quiet groan, unable to restrain himself, I felt as happy as if he had been caressing me.