Whatcha packin' there, Little Bro the thing that used to be my sister asked, almost genially. Wooden stake, silver bullets, maybe some garlic I knew that killing It was going to be difficult-as much or more emotionally as physically. She knew that too. The .357 was heavy in my hand I hadn't pointed it at . . . her. There was a fast flash of a pixieish smile across her features-like the flicker of a transmission from a malfunctioning and distant satellite for just that instant My Big Sister Almost. A Magnum, huh she-It-said, as if in approval of the choice. I gave no answer. Maybe loaded with depleted uranium bullets, something you picked up in the service Think that'll do it she asked, cocking her head to the side, seeming interested. Like we were fishing up at the lake. Like we were musing together about what fly to cast. Depleted uranium I nodded slowly, as if giving the matter serious thought. But-no-she'd gotten it right the first time. The Magnum was loaded with Vamp Killers high