"Tate," Hunter said with a friendly note in his voice she wouldn't have thought him capable of. "You're the man."
"I just hope Nick didn't forget anything."
"Nope, he nailed it."
Amanda arched a brow at the strangeness of hearing modern American slang coming out of a man with such a heavy, seductive accent.
Tate nodded to them, then left.
She watched as Hunter strapped the holster to his hips, then he slid the plate back to lock a bullet in the chamber of each gun. He flicked on the safety, twirled them around, then holstered them so that his coat concealed them.
Next, he picked up a butterfly knife and shoved it in his back pocket. The other two knives went into his coat pockets and he clipped the cell phone and his PDA to his belt.
Amanda arched a brow at his weapons. "I thought only a wooden stake through the heart killed a vampire."
"A wooden stake through the heart will kill just about anything. And if it doesn't, run like hell," Hunter said blandly. "Again, my lady, you watch too much television. Don't you have a life?"
"Yes, unlike you, I have a blessedly boring life where no one tries to kill me. And you know what? I like it, and I really want to get back to it."
His eyes glowed with humor. "All right, then, let's go find your friend to separate us so that you can get back to your boring life and I can lead my dangerous one."
Raking her with a hot, lustful stare, he ran his tongue over his fangs. Then he placed the sunglasses on his face.
Amanda's pulse quickened. With those dark glasses on, he looked even more like a soulful poet than ever before. It was all she could do not to step back into his arms and demand he kiss her again.
He tucked her hand into his coat pocket with his to conceal the handcuffs, then led her out of Tate's office and through the hospital corridor.
As he walked, she noticed his smooth, predatorial gait. His air of refinement. The man was pure, fluid grace. And that was a seriously dangerous swagger he had developed. One that drew the attention of every woman they passed.
But Hunter didn't seem to notice as he headed out the back exit.
Once they reached the dark parking lot, Amanda gave a low whistle as she saw a Lamborghini Diablo in one of the employee spaces. The light above it glinted across the sleek black paint much like a halo. Normally, she didn't give a whit about cars, but the Lamborghini had always been her one exception.
It must belong to a surgeon.
Or so she thought until Hunter approached it.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"I'm getting into my car."
Her jaw dropped. "You own this?"
"No," he said sarcastically. "I'm stealing it with the key in my hand."
"Good Lord," she gasped, "you must be loaded!"
He pulled the sunglasses down the bridge of his nose to give her a peeved glare. "It's amazing how much savings you can accumulate in two thousand years."
Amanda blinked as his words registered. Could he honestly be...
"Is that really how old you are?" she asked skeptically.
He nodded. "Two thousand one hundred and eighty-two years old last July, to be precise."
She bit her bottom lip as she swept her gaze over his gorgeous body. "You look good for an old man. I wouldn't have put you a day over three hundred myself."
Laughing, he placed the key in the lock.