Michael Belmont and the Heir of Van Helsing (The Adventures of Michael Belmont) by Ethan Russell Erway Page B

way she did when she wanted to hide the fact that she was crying.
    “That is why,” Mrs. Stoker continued, “I’ve dedicated the last fifty years of my life to investigating such dark forces; assisting the best way that I could those who have taken up the struggle against evil.”
    Michael and Liam looked at each other with wide eyes.   Michael felt a kinship with the old woman somehow, like he had known her for some time, even though they’d just met.
    “Well, I guess I should get to the point.   Are any of you familiar with the name Dracula?”
    “Yes,” Mr. Belmont said cautiously.   “A few years ago, not long after Abby was born- now that I think about it, I came across his story while hunting for an artifact, a very valuable sword.”
    “I remember you speaking about him,” said Michael’s mother.   “You told me his story after you got back.   He was a Transylvanian prince or something wasn’t he?   A mass-murderer and a madman?”
    “A Wallachian prince actually,” corrected Mrs. Stoker.   “Although he was born in Transylvania.   And yes, he was quite a madman, known throughout the region for his cruelty.   History records him as an evil man, but there are other facts that recorded history has failed to mention.”   Staring intently at Michael’s father she said, “Tell me, what kind of stories did you hear?”
    “Well, at the time, I considered it mostly nonsense.   I was with some associates over in Romania.   Even today the people still revere and fear Dracula’s name.   We visited with some gypsies, got particularly friendly with a young man named Tobar.   He served as our guide and told us the stories.   According to the local legends, Dracula was a vampire.   He had to drink human blood in order to survive.   It was also said he had the ability to change his form into that of a wolf or a bat if memory serves.”
    When his father said this, Michael’s heart began to race.   Were his recent encounters with the wolves more than simple coincidence?
    Dorothy nodded.   “Yes.   That sounds about right.   What if I told you that those stories are more than old gypsy legends?   What if I told you I had proof that Dracula may actually have been the monster spoken about in those stories?”
    “I’d say,” said Mark seriously, “that I might be inclined to believe you.”
    “And what if I told you that there have been rumors recently of Dracula’s reappearance?   That he might never have really died? That perhaps he’s been making plans to return to power?”
    Mark raised his eyebrows, looking at Declan expectantly.   “What have you got to say about all this?”
    “I know it all sounds like something out of a cheap horror movie,” he said, shaking his head.   “I wish that were the case.   This is where the evidence is pointing.”
    “So what exactly does all this all have to do with us?” Rachel broke in with an irritated voice.   “You said that you didn’t come for the coffee, but I know you didn’t come to tell campfire stories either.”
    “Rachel!” Mark said with a frown.   He was a little surprised at his wife’s tone.
    “It’s quite all right,” Mrs. Stoker said gently.   “I understand your concern, my dear.   After everything this family has been through lately I can’t blame you for being defensive.   I know you don’t want to see your loved ones dragged into danger again, but I assure you I want nothing more from your husband than information.”
    Rachel’s expression changed from anger to guilt, and her eyes got watery.   “I’m sorry,” she said weakly.   “You’re right.   I guess I’ve been a little on-edge lately, given all the things we’ve gone through.   I didn’t mean to snap like that.”
    Mrs. Stoker smiled warmly, and then turned to Mr. Belmont.   “Since Declan told me you may be able to help, I’ve been so anxious to speak with you.   Tell me, dear, that sword you spoke of…were you able to learn