Walking the streets of Moscow, indistinguishable from the rest of its population, are The Other. Possessors of supernatural powers and capable of entering the Twilight, a shadowy world that exists in parallel to our own, each owes allegiance either to The Dark or The Light. The two factions, having long before realise that an open struggle can only create chaos and disaster, coexist in an uneasy truce, each side aware of, and keeping a close eye on, the other's activities around the city. Despite their leanings towards good and evil, their aim is not mutual destruction, but rather the maintenance of the precarious balance between the two.

Anton, an young Other, who owes allegiance to the Light, is a Night Watch agent, patrolling the streets and Metro of the city, as he protects ordinary people from the vampires and magicians of the Dark. On his rounds, Anton comes across a young woman, Svetlana, who he realises is under a powerful curse that threatens the entire city, and a boy, Egor, a young Other, too young to have committed to either The Dark or The Light and as yet unaware of his own enormous power, whom Anton narrowly saves from vampires.

Anton is assigned a partner, Olga, a powerful female Other who is in the form of an owl in punishment for a past error of judgement. Together with their colleagues in the Night Watch, they struggle to remove Svetlana’s curse and to protect Egor from the vampires that pursue him.
Set in a vividly realised post-Soviet Russia, where vampires operate under license and Good and Evil exist in a Cold War-like balance of power, The Night Watch is a page-turning fantasy thriller, an international bestseller that represents the most original writing in its genre since Anne Rice’s An Interview With A Vampire… --This text refers to an alternate kindle_edition edition.

"From the Trade Paperback edition." --This text refers to an alternate kindle_edition edition.

The phenomenal Russian bestseller (over a million copies sold in hardcover), a gloriously readable grunge fantasy/vampire novel set in a richly realised post-Soviet Moscow. First of a trilogy, Night Watch has sold across Europe and to 20th Century Fox for huge advances. --This text refers to an alternate kindle_edition edition.

CHAPTER 1

THE NIGHT got off to a bad start.

It was barely even dark when I woke. I just lay there, thinking things over, watching the final gleams of daylight fading away in the cracks of the blinds. This was the fifth night of the hunt - and there was still nothing to show for it. And I wasn't likely to get lucky today either.

It was cold in the apartment, the radiators hardly gave any heat at all. The only thing I like about winter is that it gets dark quickly, so there aren't many people out on the streets. If not for that, I'd have dropped the whole business ages ago and left Moscow for some place like Yalta or Sochi. It would have to be the Black Sea, not some far away islands in a warm foreign ocean: I like to hear the sound of my mother tongue around me . . .

Stupid dreams, of course.

It's still too soon for me to be thinking of retiring to somewhere a bit warmer.

I haven't earned it yet.

The telephone must have been waiting for me to wake up - it started ringing in that loathsome, nagging way it has. I fumbled for the receiver and held it to my ear - quietly, without saying a word.

'Anton, answer.'

I didn't say anything. Larissa's voice was brisk and focused, but already tired. She obviously hadn't slept all day.

'Anton, shall I put you through to the boss?'

'No, don't do that,' I growled.

'That's more like it. Are you awake?'

'Yes.'

'It's the same again for you today.'

'Anything new?'

'No, not a thing. Have you got anything for breakfast?'

'I'll find something.'

'Okay. Good luck.'

It sounded feeble and unconvincing. Larissa didn't have any faith in me. No doubt the boss didn't either.

'Thanks,' I said to the dial tone. I got up and made the usual trip to the toilet and the bathroom. I was just about to spread toothpaste on the brush when I realised I was getting ahead of myself and put it back down on the edge of the basin.

It was completely dark in the kitchen, but of course I didn't bother turning on the light. I opened the door of the fridge - the small light bulb I'd screwed out of its socket lay there freezing with the food. I looked at the saucepan with the colander sitting on top of it. Lying in the colander was a lump of half-defrosted meat. I lifted out the colander, raised the saucepan to my lips and took a gulp.

If anyone thinks pig's blood tastes good, then they're wrong.

I put the saucepan with the rest of the thawed-out blood back in the fridge and walked back to the bathroom. The dull blue lamp hardly lightened the darkness at all. I took a long time cleaning my teeth, brushing furiously, then I gave in, went back to the kitchen and took a gulp of icy vodka from the fridge. Now my stomach didn't just feel warm, it felt hot. A wonderful set of sensations: frost on my teeth and fire in my stomach.

I hope you- I started thinking, about the boss, but I caught myself just in time. He was quite capable of sensing even a halfformed curse. I went through into my room and started gathering together the clothes scattered all over the place. I discovered my trousers under the bed, my socks on the windowsill, and for some reason my shirt was hanging on the mask of Chkhoen.

The ancient king of Korea eyed me disapprovingly.

'Why can't you just watch over me?' I muttered, and then the phone started screeching again. I paced around the room until I found the receiver.

'Anton, was there something you wanted to say to me?' the disembodied voice asked.

'Not a thing,' I said sullenly.

'I see. Now add "glad to serve, your honour" to that.'

'I'm not glad. And there's nothing to be done about it . . . your honour.'

The boss paused for a moment.

'Anton, I really would like you to take this situation we have on our hands a bit more seriously. All right? I expect you to report back in the morning, in any case. And . . . good luck.'

I didn't exactly feel ashamed. But I wasn't feeling quite so irritated any more. I put my mobile phone in my jacket pocket, opened the cupboard in the hallway and wondered for a while what I ought to take to round out my kit. I had a few novel items of equipment that friends had given me the previous week. But I settled on the usual lot anyway - it's fairly compact and gives pretty good all-round coverage.

Plus the minidisc walkman. I don't need my sense of hearing for anything, and boredom is an implacable enemy.

Before I went out I took a long look at the staircase through the spy-hole. Nobody there.

And that was the beginning of one more night.

Sergei Lukyanenko was born in Kazakhstan and educated as a psychiatrist. He began publishing science fiction in the 1980s and has published more than twenty-five books. He lives in Moscow with his wife and son.

They are the "Others," an ancient race of supernatural beings--magicians, shape-shifters, vampires, and healers--who live among us. Human born, they must choose a side to swear allegiance to--the Dark or the Light--when they come of age.

For a millennium, these opponents have coexisted in an uneasy peace, enforced by defenders like the Night Watch, forces of the Light who guard against the Dark. But prophecy decrees that one supreme "Other" will arise to spark a cataclysmic war.

Anton Gorodetsky, an untested mid-level Light magician with the Night Watch, discovers a cursed young woman--an Other of tremendous potential unallied with either side--who can shift the balance of power. With the battle lines between Light and Dark drawn, the magician must move carefully, for one wrong step could mean the beginning of annihilation.