If you loved following Anton’s night shifts through Moscow—staking out a vampire on the metro, filing forms for magical licenses, and chasing disturbances in the Twilight—you’ll click with PC Peter Grant as he’s recruited by DCI Nightingale into London’s tiny, secret wizarding branch. In Rivers of London, Peter works real cases (a violent "face-shifter" haunting Covent Garden, river-god diplomacy with Mama Thames and Father Thames) while juggling police procedure, forensics, and spellcraft. It’s that same blend of street-level patrol work, city lore, and hidden supernatural bureaucracy you enjoyed in Night Watch—just with a distinctly London flavor.

Anton’s constant compromises—cutting deals in the Twilight, obeying Geser even when it blurs the Light’s ideals—mirror Bob Howard’s life as an occult civil servant in The Atrocity Archives. Bob fights Lovecraftian threats for the Laundry, a secret UK agency where sorcery is math and every spell requires paperwork, risk assessments, and budget codes. When he’s sent to protect a researcher with dangerous knowledge and ends up tangling with Nazi remnants and extradimensional horrors, he has to weigh lives, secrets, and the greater good—much like Anton facing Zabulon’s traps and the Day Watch’s provocations. It’s witty, dark, and full of uneasy choices.

If Geser and Zabulon’s chess match—treaties, staged provocations, and leverage over Svetlana—was your catnip, Declare channels that same clandestine tension. British spy Andrew Hale is pulled into operations where djinn and angels intersect with real Cold War espionage. The novel’s Mount Ararat operation and the long game around double-agent Kim Philby echo the Night/Day Watch balance-of-power gambits. Like Anton navigating inter-agency rules in the Twilight, Hale must play by arcane and diplomatic rules at once, where breaking them can unleash something worse than war.

Anton’s early assignments—tracking an illegal vampire hunt, unraveling a curse around Svetlana—blend investigation with the uncanny. In The City & the City, Inspector Tyador Borlú pursues a murder that straddles two cities occupying the same physical space, where citizens must "unsee" the other side. The strict metaphysical civics feel like a cousin to the Twilight’s layers and rules: step wrong, and you face powers beyond ordinary law. It’s a cerebral, atmospheric casefile that scratches the same investigative itch with a reality-bending twist.

If Night Watch hooked you with Anton’s wrestling over what the "Light" really means—his bargains in the Twilight, Geser’s ends-justify-the-means strategies, and Zabulon’s provocations—then American Gods offers a panoramic, myth-soaked reflection on belief and moral gray zones. Shadow’s road trip with Mr. Wednesday reveals gods living on faith and compromise, old pacts colliding with new powers, and choices that rarely split cleanly into Light and Dark. Like Anton’s world, every deal has a price—and understanding that cost is the point.