Zed sat down on the hard, cold floor and slumped against the pillar, then began looping the chain around himself. He hoped it would hold him once more through the change. He hoped it would keep him secure and everyone else he knew safe.
He was already becoming hyperaware, his senses now working overtime, including his sense of smell—the various aromas of the neighborhood all coming to him. The trees, the grass, the fumes from the passing cars, the pie baking in Mrs. Nowicki’s oven, and the smell of flesh. Men, women, animals. Especially dogs. The canine aroma was particularly strong—and his own was the strongest.
Wait, Zed said to himself, didn’t Scott Campbell mention something about me having a dog, or smelling like a dog, or something like that? Do you think he knows? How could he? How could Scott have any clue about…what I am?
Zed had no answer. And soon it would not matter anyway. The change was coming. And there was nothing he could do about it.
Scott had intended to go through the attic ever since he had moved back in with his mother. He knew that there were things up there that he hadn’t seen since before he’d gotten married, things belonging to his father. A lot of mementos of his father’s service in World War II were stored up there, things that he looked forward to seeing again. But he had heard that other treasures were hidden up there—one old family rumor concerned an ancestral claymore of Clan Campbell that had somehow ended up in his father’s possession but Scott had never seen. So it wasn’t through disinterest that he had not yet gone through the attic, as Irene had often requested; it was distraction. And laziness. And spiders. Scott hated spiders. But now that he was a vampire…well, he still hated spiders. But today, all those excuses went out the window. Today was the day he was going to conquer the attic.
Scott went up the folding ladder into the dark, dank space, deciding not to carry a flashlight but instead relying on his accentuated night vision. He crawled over pink insulation to the far corner where he saw several old steamer trunks. Scott figured these held his father’s war memorabilia.
The first trunk did. Scott looked over swastika-stamped belt buckles, bayonets, a fallen Nazi flag, and his personal favorite, an old leather holster containing a Luger. Now completely enthralled by this task, Scott dug into the next trunk, which contained some of his father’s old army uniforms, well mothballed.
As he moved clothing and boots around, Scott noticed something odd. The floor of the trunk seemed to be oddly shallow, much more so than the trunk itself indicated. He concluded that the floor was a false bottom. Now he was really interested. He felt around inside the trunk and found a loose corner where he could tuck a finger beneath it. He did so and began to pry open the secret compartment.
Inside the compartment was only one thing: an old wooden box. But Scott could not see any way to open it. He picked it up and studied the carvings on the sides of it. The front of the box featured a motif that looked like two birds facing each other. Scott wondered what kind of birds they represented. The thought that came to him—and he had no idea why—was that they were either crows or ravens. Whatever they were, Scott found himself oddly fascinated by the wooden object—even more so when he swore he felt it vibrate.
His curiosity was now off the charts. Scott called down the ladder to the only person who might have a clue.
“Mom? I think I found something…”
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Epilogue
Suburban Vampire: A Tale of the Human Condition—With Vampires Page 36