Michael Belmont and the Heir of Van Helsing (The Adventures of Michael Belmont) (17 page)

She nodded.
 
“I think so,” she answered, giving him a scared smile.
 
He noticed that she was shaking too.
 
“Did you call the police?
 
Where’s the phone?”

“I dropped it!”
 
He turned and ran back, stooping to pick it up.
 
He opened it up to dial the number, but the display was black.
 
He tried to turn it on, but it didn’t show any signs of life.
 
“Oh no, I think I might have broken it,” he yelled.
 
“Mom, I—,”

He looked up to see one of the men and the woman they’d been attacking each holding one of his mother’s arms.
 
The other man was behind her; he ran his fingers through her blonde hair before clenching it into his fist.
 
Then he pulled her head roughly to the side and sunk his long fangs into her neck.

“NOOOO,” Michael screamed, charging toward them.
 
It seemed that time nearly stopped as he ran toward his mother.
 
He had to help her, had to do something, even if it only meant dying beside her.
 
He watched helplessly as she convulsed and was lowered down onto the ground.
 
The man who had been holding her arm caught Michael by the throat, squeezing off his air and lifting him off the ground.
 
He kicked and grasped for his captor’s hand, but after a few moments everything started to go black.

The vampire dropped him to the ground.
 
He felt his skull bang into the asphalt, and gasped to draw breath back into his lungs.
 
The big man grabbed him once more, and pulled him up by the back of his shirt.
 
He spun Michael around to face his mother and held him in a bear hug.

“You’re gonna watch this,” he spat.
 
“And then it’s gonna be your turn.”

The vamp who’d sunk its teeth into his mother bit into his own wrist, and held it up to her mouth.

She squirmed and fought to get away from him, but it was no use.
 
After a few moments she stopped struggling, and her body went limp.

“Your turn,” the woman told Michael as she stooped down in front of him.
 
She was beautiful and terrifying, and the aroma of her perfume mixed with the decaying smell of her breath.
 
He fought with all his strength to break free, but it was no use.
 
He felt her teeth pierce the skin of his neck and sink down into his flesh.
 
But even as pain and horror enveloped him, all he could think of was his mother.
 
Was she dead?
 
Was she one of them now?
 
Would he soon be joining them as well?

He gazed up at the moon.
 
Its rays pierced him for a moment before he saw a black mist descend through the sky, momentarily obscuring its light.
 
The man standing over him yelled something he couldn’t understand.
 
A dark figure moved up behind him, and plucked his head from his body as easily as one might remove a cork from a wine bottle.
 
As his body fell it crumbled into dust.

The woman let Michael go, as did the man who was holding him from behind.
 
He scampered to his mother and threw himself over her, while his assailants fell down to their knees in front of the cloaked figure.

“Lord Alucard!” the woman shrieked.
 
Michael had never seen anyone look so terrified.
 
“Have mercy on us,” she begged him pitifully.

“You who are without mercy now plead for it?”
 
He looked at the blood dripping from her lips, and the marks on Michael’s neck.
 
“I’m sorry, but it’s too late for that.”

For a brief instant, Michael saw the moonlight streak along the edge of Alucard’s blade, and before he could blink, the remains of the woman were disintegrating into fire and ash. The other man began to speak, but Alucard silenced him before he could get a word out.

The sound of sirens began to echo through the distance.

“We need to get out of here,” Alucard said, pulling Michael to his feet.
 
“This is not something we can easily explain to the police.”
 
He slung Michael’s mother over his shoulder and ushered him into the shadows.

“Is she going to be alright?” Michael wept.
 
He squeezed his mother’s hand.
 
It felt eerily cold and lifeless, but he thought she looked like an angel lying there, asleep.
 
Abigail lay silently cuddled up beside her.

“Yes,” Mrs. Stoker told him.
 
“Thank God Alucard arrived when he did.
 
Otherwise, it sounds like we might have lost you both.”

“They were trying to turn us, weren’t they?” he asked her, wiping the tears from his eyes.
 
“They wanted information about the sword, so they were trying to turn us?”

The old woman nodded.
 
“Yes.
 
And for a brief moment, your mother had been turned.
 
However, in order to make the change complete and permanent, the infected victim must make their first kill.
 
Alucard broke the curse when he killed the one who had bitten her.
 
If he hadn’t shown up….”
 
She gave him a warm smile.
 
“But it’s over now.
 
She’s going to be all right, she just needs some rest.
 
In a day or two she’ll be as good as new.”

Michael rubbed his head, which pounded.
 
His neck burned and ached.
 
He was angry, but he was also glad that the vampires were dead for what they’d done to his mother.
 
His head was swimming.
 
For a few long moments, she had been one of them.
 
Would she have been evil like them?
 
Would either of them have had a choice.
 
He thought of the woman who’d bitten him.
 
She had been young and beautiful, at least when she’d been turned into a monster.
 
Had she been a good person?
 
Had she been someone’s mother, or perhaps someone’s little sister?
 
Had
she
ever been given a choice?

Mrs. Stoker handed him a glass of water and some pain pills.
 
“Here you are, my dear.
 
Now off to bed and get some rest.
 
I’ll keep an eye on your mother and sister.
 
In the morning I’ll show you some ways to protect yourself from such attacks in the future.”

He thanked her and headed to his room.
 
As exhausted as he was, Michael felt too agitated to sleep.
 
Going into the bathroom, he threw the pain pills into the garbage and splashed some water on his face.
 
He felt that taking the pills would be like admitting defeat to his attackers.
 
He wouldn’t allow them that, even now.
 
He rubbed his eyes and looked into the mirror, they were bloodshot and you could tell he’d been crying, but at least he had a good excuse.

Someone began pounding at the door, and it startled him.
 
He knew at once it was Liam from the heavy-handed
shave and a haircut
knock- minus the last two beats.

Liam heaved his arms around Michael as soon as he was through the door.

“Your da told me about what happened, I’m glad you and your mum made it back okay.”

Michael groaned.
 
He hadn’t realized until Liam grabbed him just how beaten-up he was from the encounter.

“Sorry about that.”
 
Liam released his grip and stepped back to look his friend over.

“It’s okay.
 
Is my dad still in your room talking with everyone?”

Liam nodded.
 
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look so angry.
 
He’s absolutely livid.”

“I know.
 
I could see it in his face when he was in there with my mom and me.
 
He was trying not to show it, but I could tell.”

“Well, I guess I should get out of here and let you rest.
 
I just wanted to see for myself that you were okay.”

“Thanks, but I can’t sleep right now.
 
I’d kind of like to go back to your room and talk to Alucard.
 
Everything happened so fast; I never got a chance to thank him.”

The two boys returned to the MacDonalds’ room where they found their fathers speaking with Alucard and Caleb Boone.

“Michael,” his father said, looking irritated to see him, “you should be getting some rest.
 
You’ve been through a lot tonight.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” he shrugged.
 
“And I wanted to thank Alucard for rescuing Mom and me.”

“As I told your father, no thanks are necessary, I’ve been fighting against these forces for a long time now.
 
It’s unfortunate that your family has become involved.”

“Well, you two might as well come in and have a seat,” Mr. MacDonald told them.
 
“Alucard was just about to tell us a bit more about himself.
 
Michael, why don’t you lie down and rest on Liam’s bed.
 
There you go.”

Michael looked at his father.
 
Although he was calm and quiet, he could see the fury bubbling just beneath the surface.
 
Michael knew that he’d do whatever he could to pay back those who were responsible for attacking their family.
 
He was glad, but it also scared him a little to see his dad so upset.

Caleb frowned at him in a way that told him he was also angry about what happened.
 
He looked as though he’d taken the attack personally for some reason.
 
Maybe the young man really did consider his dad a brother.

Michael’s father took in a long, deep breath before turning to Alucard.
 
“I dropped my guard when I shouldn’t have, and my wife and son suffered because of it.
 
Say whatever you will, but I’m grateful you were there.
 
You have my thanks.”

Alucard began to open his mouth to answer, but instead he simply gave Mr. Belmont a nod and looked down toward the ground.
 
After a moment, he raised his gaze once again.
 
“I’ve never found trust a thing to come easily, either in giving it or getting it from others.
 
Most of my life has been spent in isolation, living in the shadows and fighting this war on my own.
 
But I’ve come to realize that if my brother is to be stopped, it will take more than my efforts alone.”

“I think it’s fair to say that everyone in this room has a horse in this race,” Mr. Belmont told him.
 
“You’ve earned my trust, but in order to succeed we’ll need to know everything about your story that could possibly help us.”

“Well,” Alucard began with a sad sigh. “I guess I should start from the beginning.”

“My mother once told me about the night of my birth.
 
It occurred during a particularly cold winter, under the light of a full moon, in one of the highest towers of Dracula’s Castle.
 
When the midwife handed me to my mother, my white skin and red eyes were so shocking to her that she nearly threw me out the tower window to drown in the river below.
 
The nursemaid stopped her from doing so.

"Do not think that the woman was unkind.
 
Her heart was always full of charity and empathy for others, especially me.
 
But during those days, her eyes were beginning to open to the world around her.
 
It was like a painting of something beautiful being washed away to reveal a grotesque composition behind it; that’s the way she later described it to me.

"My father, the man you know as Dracula, had been holding control of her mind, but after years of being blinded by his manipulation she was slowly waking up.
 
I don’t know why.
 
Perhaps she was getting stronger, or perhaps he was becoming more complacent, ensured of her unwavering devotion to him.
 
She had indeed always loved him, even to the end, I believe.
 
But she had a pure and chaste soul, and in order to gain and keep her love it was necessary for him to blind her to his evil ways.

"I believe it was my birth that finally pushed her over the edge.
 
She had been questioning the things her mind was letting in, but when I arrived, she could deny the truth no longer.
 
The strangeness of my appearance came upon her like a downpour of rain, washing away the final remnants of the illusion to divulge the reality around her.

"After coming to her senses, she embraced me and cared for me, lamenting the idea that she had ever meant me harm.
 
For nine years she endured the horrors of my father’s castle.
 
He loved her and saw that no harm came to her, or to me.
 
Yet the torments of living in that place and the atrocities that we witnessed tore at her soul; she tried to shelter me from it as much as she could.

"Just after my ninth birthday, my mother discovered a gruesome secret.
 
She overheard my father discussing his plans for me with one of his dark priests.
 
It seemed that if he would be willing to offer me as a sacrifice unto the demonic forces to which he paid tribute, greater powers would be granted to him.
 
Powers that would have ensured him victory over his enemies, and allowed him to be the most triumphant conqueror since Alexander the Great.

"I would have been a more valuable sacrifice than my other brothers.
 
They were all human, born before our father was cursed, but I was a dhampir.
 
Since my mother was a human and my father a vampire, I had all of the abilities that came with that curse, but none of the weaknesses.
 
Perhaps my father envied me in a way.
 
Perhaps that made it easier to commit to his evil plans for me.
 
Perhaps he never loved me at all.