10
The Love Machine
Nothing said former Berserker Viking, soldier of fortune, and badass vampire like a 1960s VW van in bright blue and white. It sparkled in the sun as it slid to a stop next to us.
“Nice,” Alex said.
“Yeah, he just had the paint redone. Talk about someone who loves their ride.”
Bradley’s head poked out of the passenger window. “Shotgun.”
I didn’t have the heart to tell him that he didn’t need to call shotgun when he was already in the front. Baby steps were a good plan with Bradley. He wasn’t a very sociable sort of guy, and he hadn’t had a lot of help with social situations until my elderly neighbor—pre-vamp transformation—had taken him under her wing. Since she’d been murdered, I was probably the closest thing to a mentor that he had. Hm. I would ponder the wisdom
