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“No. Whatever you want.”

The guy made quick work of getting a shirt and pants on, and good thing they were of similar build—now that an extra fifty pounds of muscle had been added to that mystically revived body.

Aware that he was staring, Callum went over and opened the first of his weapons trunks. It was funny. The fact that he never used the locks had never registered before. The clan’s territory was respected, and even so, it was never, ever undefended. Even during the day.

But suddenly, he felt a threat was close by.

He glanced back across the cave. The vampire was pulling on Callum’s favorite jacket, something else that was a revelation: He hadn’t known he had one until somebody else’s body was in it.

“What kind of gun do you like,” he said as he refocused on the locker’s click-click-bang-bang contents.

“One that shoots.”

“Picky, picky.” He took out a .357 Magnum. “We are kind of old-fashioned around here.”

“How so.”

“None of that autoloader bullshit.”

“I don’t even know what that is.”

Cocking a brow, Callum tossed the gun into the air while the guy was working the favorite-jacket’s buttons—and he wasn’t surprised when a hand whipped out into thin air and caught the grip on the fly. Only after a steady hand was already locked on the weapon did the vampire look down his arm—and as he stared at what he’d caught, he frowned.

“Not your type after all?” Callum murmured. “Or just checking the weight.”

For a moment, the male didn’t move. But then he seemed to snap out of his astonishment. “Ammo.”

“Right here.” Callum tossed a suede bag across, the bullets inside chiming on the fly. “But you won’t need any of this.”

The vampire hooked a palm around the satchel and buried the loose load in the outside pocket of Callum’s jacket.

“Aren’t you going to check what’s inside there?” Callum murmured.

“I trust you.”

“You don’t know me.”

Those eyes narrowed. “You’re afraid of me. You’re not going to fuck this up because you’d don’t know what I’m capable of.”

Callum blinked. A couple of times. Then he shrugged. “I also don’t like blueberries, harmonicas, or cats. Is there anything else we need to discuss?”

“You said I won’t need a weapon.” The vampire looked down at the gun. “Why.”

No reason to go into that right now, he thought. “I’m coming with you, remember?” Callum put up his palm as those strange eyes refocused on him. “And it’s not your decision.”

“I’m not saving you.”

“I wasn’t aware I’d asked you to. And you know, you’re kind of a dick, no offense. Were you like this before?”

The vampire checked the Magnum’s cylinder. Gave things a spin.

And then he pointed the hand cannon right at Callum’s frontal lobe. On the business end of the trigger, there was absolutely no expression on the male’s face, the only outward sign that there was anything unusual going on a slight twitch of the right eyebrow.

“Boom,” the vampire whispered. As if he had overheard the conversation at the fire pit.

Justlikethat, the male dematerialized out of the cave.

Callum sagged and lowered his head. As he patted around for his cigarettes, his hands shook, and he ignored that. Even when he dropped the first coffin nail he took out of the pack.

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