6
Crime-Fighting Vamp
“Come in.” When I didn’t move, Bradley said, “I can’t close the door.”
I stepped into his condo. “Sorry.”
He closed the door and then abandoned me for his tea preparations. I could hear the soft whistling of the kettle as it reached the boiling point.
My brain was screaming, “Deny!” But I couldn’t say the words. I walked slowly into the kitchen, where the teacups and small plates were set out.
Bradley retrieved the tiny plate we used for cookies from the place setting where I usually sat. “You don’t need this.”
“I think I’m supposed to say something like: vampires aren’t real.”
Bradley looked up from the stove where he was retrieving the kettle of boiled water. “I don’t understand.”
I squished up my face. What to say? Definitely the truth, but which truth? “I
