Сергей Лукьяненко - Day Watch

"Yes," said Lemesheva. "Yes. Of course. I understand. I accept the detail…"

For a moment her expression went vague-the duty magician was sending her telepathic guidelines to the situation.

That meant it was serious. That meant there was work to do.

"To your brooms…" Lena whispered quietly. The brief phrase from a children's cartoon was a traditional saying with us. "I wonder who they'll send…" she said.

But when Anna Lemesheva put the receiver down, her expression was strict and tough.

"Into the bus, girls. Everyone. Look lively!"

This meant something very serious. This meant a fight.

–«¦»-

The minibus was driven by Deniska, a young Dark magician so incredibly lazy that he preferred working in the garage among the vampires and other small timers. But his laziness didn't stop him knowing how to drive, and he knew perfectly a few spells that were essential for his job. We literally flew along the road as we made our way to the city center at a speed that the presidential cortege could only dream about. I felt the surges of Power when he examined the reality lines, made the militiamen look the other way, or made other drivers steer their cars off to the side. Sitting beside him was Edgar, a plump, swarthy, dark-haired magician from Estonia who looked nothing like a person from the Baltic, but possessed magical abilities that were almost second-level.

There were nine of us in the vehicle. I could hardly remember Anna Lemesheva ever leaving the Watch building before, but she was sitting in the chair by the door, monotonously reciting the guidelines:

"Darya Leonidovna Romashova. Sixty-three years old, looks considerably younger, probably constantly nourished by Power. Presumably a witch, but could possibly be a Dark Sorceress. Under observation for the last four years as an uninitiated Other."

At this point Lemesheva permitted herself to swear briefly and obscenely, addressing her abuse to the members of the detection department. "Apparently she refuses all contact. She avoids conversations on mystical subjects, citing her religious piety! What has faith got to do with the abilities of an Other? It's a different question who that Christ of theirs was…"

"Anna Tikhonovna, don't blaspheme," Lena said quietly but insistently. "I believe in the Lord God, too."

"I'm sorry, Lena," Lemesheva said with a nod. "I didn't mean to offend you. Let's continue… Romashova has probably been earning a bit from small-scale magic. Love potions, hate potions, hexes, removing curses…"

"The standard charlatan's stock-in-trade," I put in. "No wonder they didn't bother to check her seriously."

"And what about monitoring her results and finding out if she really did help people?" Lemesheva asked. "No, I'm going to write a report. If Zabulon thinks this is good work-then sack me! It's time for me to retire."

Olga cleared her throat in warning.

"I'm prepared to say it to his face!" Lemesheva was obviously worked up. "Well, I ask you, they suspect a woman is a witch for four years, but they don't bother to check properly! It's a standard procedure-we send an agent and monitor the discharge of Power… And the Light Ones did it, by the way!"

So that was it. Now I understood and I immediately gathered myself. What lay ahead wasn't just an incident with a crazy witch who had done something she shouldn't have. It was a fight with the Night Watch.

Vitaly growled indistinctly in his seat opposite me, more likely trying to keep his courage up than expressing delight at the battle ahead. He'd grown lazy standing watch, this brave mouse-hunter. I smiled spitefully, and the werewolf snarled and bared his teeth slightly. They had already started to grow, and his lower jaw was stretching forward.

"Vitaly, spare us the spectacle of transformation in the vehicle," Lemesheva said sharply. "In this heat the stink of dog will be quite unbearable!"

The trio of vampires on the backseat all began to laugh. I knew those guys quite well; they had been tested in action, and by and large, I didn't find them repulsive at all-not like most non-life. Three brothers, born a year apart, strong, well-built young men from an ordinary human family. The eldest had become a vampire first, when he was working in a regiment of paratroopers, and he'd done it deliberately, out of ideological considerations-his commanding officer, who was a vampire, had suggested the young man should become a vampire too. Their unit was in action somewhere in the South at the time. Things weren't going too well, and the young man had agreed. Of course, after that the unit became incredibly effective in battle. Killing a dozen enemies a night, penetrating the enemy's rear line, walking past sentries without being seen-for a vampire, even an inexperienced one, all this is child's play. Afterward, when he returned to civilian life, the young man had told his younger brothers everything, and they had offered up their own throats for biting.

"Anna Tikhonovna, how many of them are there?" Olga asked. "The Light Ones?"

"A few. Four… maybe five. But"-Lemesheva ran her stern gaze over all of us-"you mustn't relax, girls. There's at least one second-level Light magician."

The oldest vampire brother whistled. Facing a magician, especially one that powerful, was beyond a vampire's abilities. And if there were two of them…

"And the girl shape-shifter's there," said Lemesheva, looking at me.

I clenched my teeth. So, Tiger Cub was there. The shape-shifting battle magician, as the Light Ones preferred to call her. An old acquaintance of mine… and a close one. I seemed to feel an ache in my left arm, which she had once pulled out of its socket. And I remembered the wounds on my face-four bloody lines from her claws.

But Zabulon himself had helped me then. He had healed me completely so there was no damage either to my appearance or my health. And I used to go into battle boldly and cheerfully, feeling his approving glance and restrained, patient smile.

It's over. That's all behind you now, Aliska. What used to he is gone now. Forget it and don't torment yourself. If they tear your face, you'll have to wear the paranjah all the time, until your turn comes for magical healing, and the line's six months long. And you'll be lucky if they consider you worthy of complete healing, including cosmetic magic…

"Everybody check your equipment," Anna Lemesheva commanded.

The girls started bustling about, and I patted my pockets, checking on the tiny packets, little bottles, and amulets. A witch's Power doesn't lie only in controlling energy through the Twilight. We also employ auxiliary means, which is what really distinguishes us from sorceresses.

"Alisa?"

I looked at Lemesheva.

"Do you have any suggestions?"

That was better. I had to think about the future, not about the past.

"The operatives can neutralize Tiger Cub. All four of them."

"We don't need any help, Aliska," the oldest vampire brother said good-naturedly. "We'll manage."

Lemesheva thought for a moment and nodded

"All right, the three of you work together. Vitaly, you're with me, my reserve."

The werewolf smiled happily. What a fool. Anna Lemesheva would toss him into the fire like a splinter of wood. Right into the very hottest spot.

"And the four of us…"

"Five," Lemesheva corrected me.

Aha, so the old crone has decided to do some work herself?

"The five of us form a Circle of Power," I suggested. "And we feed it all to Edgar. Deniska maintains contact with headquarters."

The minibus bounced over a few potholes and bumps. We were already driving into the yard between the buildings.

"Yes, that's the only possible way to play it," Lemesheva agreed. "Take note, everybody! That's the way we'll work!"