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

sound mad, he decided, just concerned.   He carefully told her about everything he’d seen.
    “Alright,” she said calmly.   “So that ring of yours, for some reason, is causing you to see other people's memories when you touch certain relics.   Has this ever happened apart from the amulet, the sword, and Anubis’s sarcophagus?”
    “No, it hasn’t.”
    She raised her eyebrows threateningly and began to take containers out of the refrigerator.
    “I wouldn’t lie to you about it Mom.”   The implication made him feel mad and a little hurt.   He couldn’t claim that he’d never lied to his parents, but he hadn’t in a long time, and this was too important.
    “Alright,” she said, believing him.   “But you said that with Anubis it was different.   He told you that a friend had helped him design that contraption in order to store his memories, and that was before you had the ring.   And this Uriel guy; he’s the one that gave Anubis his staff as well.   He told George that the sword had been forged with…what was it again?”
    “He called it celestial light.   It has to be the same stuff that was in Anubis’s staff, and in my ring too.   It’s why the ring reacted to the sword.   That has to be the answer!”
    “But what’s that got to do with my grandmother’s amulet?   You didn’t see this Uriel character when you touched the amulet did you?”
    “I didn’t see much of anything, you jerked it away from me before I had the chance, remember?”
    She glared at him.
    “Sorry, Mom.”   He smiled guiltily.   “But maybe if you let me take another look at the amulet, I can figure this out.”
    She sighed.   “We need to talk to your father about all of this first and see what he thinks.”   She looked worried.   “How do you feel?   It doesn’t hurt or make you sick or anything when you see these visions?”
    He shook his head.   “It doesn’t hurt at all.   It’s actually really disorienting for a few seconds, and it makes me a little tired, but I’m fine after that wears off.”
    “Okay,” she conceded.   “But like I said, we need to talk this over with your father.   I won’t put you in any danger, either from the amulet, or that sword.   Besides, we need to work all this nonsense out with the vampires now, so let’s just take things one step at a time.”   She sounded drained.
    Michael got up to help her with the final preparations for lunch.   “It’ll be okay, Mom.   It sounds like Mrs. Stoker is working with some people who’ll know what to do.”
    “Yes, I suppose so.   I just hope your father doesn’t get any wild ideas about trying his hand at vampire hunting.”  
    Michael chuckled, but stopped when he could see by her expression that she was serious, and very unhappy at the prospect.
    “Um, Mom, there’s probably one other thing I ought to tell you about.”
    She set a bowl of lettuce down on the table and looked at him nervously.
    “You know how I told you about seeing those wolves in the yard a few weeks ago?”
    She nodded apprehensively.
    “Well, I think I shot the white one a little bit earlier today with my bow.”   He told her the story as she stared at him with a half open mouth.
    “That is interesting.   I think it’s something we need to discus with everyone- including out guests.   But not until after lunch, okay?”
    Michael felt sorry for his mother.   She looked so tired and worried.   He wished he could do something to make her feel better, but he didn’t know how to help.   “Are you okay, Mom?”
    She nodded, and thrust her arms around him, squeezing tightly.

    The night seemed too quiet and Michael couldn’t sleep.   He kept thinking about the sword of Van Helsing, and the stories that Dorothy Stoker had told them after dinner.   Stories of impaled bodies, burned villages, and inhuman crimes- all committed by this Count Dracula.   Would it really be possible for such a monster to return from the grave?