And a box of wooden stakes, he added in thought, and a rag with blood on it…
And on top of all those things, there was always Aunt Carolyn’s story itself, about Count Volkov, a vampire story.
Could it all be just a strange coincidence? No, he felt sure. No way. There are just too many things that all add up to vampires. A coincidence would be impossible.
And all the things he’d discovered so far? They all pointed to one person, didn’t they?
Aunt Carolyn, Kevin realized.
He got to the end of the hidden corridor, rushed out, then carefully pushed the panel closed. He didn’t want to leave any evidence that he’d been down here. What would he do then? What would he say? How could he possibly explain it without being forced to reveal what he’d found?
No, he couldn’t do that—he knew it. He couldn’t tell anybody about any of this. At least not yet, he thought. At least not till Dad gets back from his fishing trip.
And the reason for this was simple.
Kevin was scared.
Very scared.
He double-checked to make sure the secret panel was properly closed, then he headed back to the kitchen. The candle, by now, had burned down most of the way. Kevin blew it out and turned on the kitchen faucet. Then he ran the candle’s wick thoroughly under the water, to be absolutely sure that it was out. The task finished, he hid the stub of the candle in the garbage can beneath the sink.
But for the entire time that he was doing this, his thoughts kept running away with his fears, and then he noticed that his hands were shaking. Yes, Kevin was scared, all right. And he knew why.
Suddenly the pieces started to fit together. They fit together so well, in fact, that Kevin was surprised he hadn’t figured it out sooner.
He turned off the overhead kitchen light, then wandered out to the hearth room. By now, the fire had all but died; only a tiny pile of glowing embers remained, and traces of heat. Outside, the storm still raged, the rain splashing against the windows, and the lightning crackling. But it wasn’t the storm that made Kevin so nervous…
He sat down in the dark, on one of the couches surrounding the fireplace. This whole creepy lodge is just like something out of a vampire movie, he realized, and everything else fits, too.
Bill Bitner’s secret room, the wooden stakes, and all that were bad enough. Not to mention the bloody rag, the shovels, and the weird paintings. It was Aunt Carolyn herself that bothered Kevin the most.
He formed a list in his mind, of all the things that suddenly bothered him about his aunt.
She’s kind of creepy looking to begin with, he thought. Her pale skin, her long black hair, and those long black dresses she always wears. She knows all about the Count Volkov legend, every detail, plus she bought the very same lodge that The Count had built and used to live in, and she has all of The Count’s paintings hanging all over the place…
But there was more, wasn’t there?
She never eats anything. She didn’t eat a thing at dinner, even though she set herself a place at the table, and she didn’t eat any of the popcorn she’d made when she was telling her story about The Count…
And if there was one thing Kevin knew full welclass="underline"
Vampires don’t eat.
And one more thing, too, the most important hint of all.
She never goes outside, he realized. She never goes out in the daylight. In fact, I’ve never seen her outside, ever in my life. She’s always inside, in the dark. Sure, this morning she stood out on the porch when we pulled up in the station wagon, but the porch is covered, and the sky was so cloudy, there wasn’t much sunlight anywhere. And for most of the day she was…
Kevin’s hands began shaking again.
All day long, we didn’t see her anywhere, he recalled. She disappeared, and that’s when vampires sleep in their coffins—during the day, so they can be awake at night.
Kevin’s eyes went wide with dread as the lightning crackled in the window.
And it was then that he finally admitted to himself what had to be true…
Aunt Carolyn, he realized, is… a vampire…
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
He couldn’t believe it, but he knew there could be no other explanation. Aunt Carolyn is a vampire, living here in Count Volkov’s lodge, he thought. Where else would a vampire live, but in another vampire’s house?
And everything else made sense, too.
Like Bill Bitner and Wally. In all the vampire movies Kevin had seen, the vampires always had helpers, people who weren’t vampires themselves, so that they could follow the vampire’s orders during the day. Servants, Kevin thought. Like those blank-faced men in the paintings. Those men were Count Volkov’s servants.
So what did that make Bill Bitner and Wally?
They’re… Aunt Carolyn’s servants, Kevin figured. No wonder they work for her so cheap. They’re probably under her spell. They protect her during the day when she’s asleep in her coffin, and they do her work for her. But—
But what work?
Digging, he answered himself at once. He’d found the shovels in the secret room, and not only had he seen Bill holding a shovel in the hallway, he’d also seen Wally out in the woods today, during the rainstorm. And what had Wally been doing?
Digging, Kevin though. Digging a hole in the ground. Digging… for something.
But what?
Count Volkov’s coffin? he wondered. Or the treasure?
It was just one more thing he’d have to find out. He knew there had to be more clues in the secret room, and tomorrow he would go back, with a bright flashlight, so he could see better and investigate some more.
But there was something he had to investigate now.
I have to make absolutely sure, he thought, that Aunt Carolyn really is a vampire…
And he knew there was only one way to do that.
Kevin knew where Aunt Carolyn’s bedroom was. It was upstairs, on the second floor, at the other end of the hall from where he and Jimmy’s room was…
I’ll have to go there now, he realized. I’ll have to look into Aunt Carolyn’s bedroom. If she’s sleeping in her bed, then I’ll know she’s not really a vampire, because vampires never sleep at night, and they only sleep in coffins. And if she isn’t there…
The rest of the thought trailed off for a moment, replaced by fear.
If she isn’t there, his thoughts continued nervously, then I’ll know I’m right. I’ll know for a fact that Aunt Carolyn really is a vampire…
Kevin stood up then, in the dark hearth room, with the rain still pounding the windows and the lightning still flashing. He doubted that he’d ever been this scared, but he knew what he must do.
He had no choice.
I’ve got to go up there now, he thought. To Aunt Carolyn’s bedroom, and I’ve got to see if she’s there. That’s the only way I’ll know for sure.
The clock on the mantle over the fireplace ticked loudly. Kevin looked up and saw that it was almost three o’clock in the morning. He walked cautiously into the foyer, set foot on the landing, and began to quietly climb the stairs. Each step felt higher than he remembered, and took more effort to climb, but maybe that was because he was afraid about all the things he’d discovered tonight. Each step creaked too, not loud, but still he fretted that the sound might wake someone up. Eventually he got to the top of the second-floor landing. It was very dark, he could barely see anything, but at least the lightning in the window at the ends of the hall offered enough light that he could make his way. As he stepped down the hall over the carpet, even the floor creaked a little, and, more eerie paintings passed on either side of him. Kevin felt grateful that it was too dark to see any of their details.