Uses Harry's personality against him

The man's shadow boiled but he watched me with flat, calculating eyes. "Perhaps we can reach an arrangement."
"Which would be?"
He drew a heavy-caliber handgun from his pocket and pointed it at Anna Valmont. "Give me the remote and I won't kill this young woman."
"The demon groupie headman uses a gun? You've got to be kidding me," I said.
"Call me Nicodemus." He glanced at the revolver. "Trendy, I know, but one can only watch so many dismemberments before they become predictable." He pointed the gun at the terror-stricken Valmont and said, "Shall I count to three?"
I threw on a puppet's Transylvanian accent. "Count as high as you vant, but you von't get one, one detonator, ah, ah, ah."
"One," Nicodemus said.
"Do you expect me to hand it over on reflex or something?"
"You've done such things repeatedly when there was a woman in danger, Harry Dresden. Two."
This Nicodemus knew me. And he'd picked a pressure tactic that wasn't going to take long, however it turned out, so he knew I was stalling for time. Crap. I wasn't going to be able to bluff him. "Hold on," I said.
He thumbed back the hammer of the revolver and aimed at Valmont's head. "Thr-"
So much for cleverness. "All right," I snapped, and I tossed the remote to him underhand. "Here you go."
Nicodemus lowered the gun, turning to catch the remote in his left hand. I waited until his eyes flicked from Valmont to the remote.
And then I pulled up every bit of power I could muster in that instant, hurled my right hand forward, and snarled, "Fuego!"


Death Masks Chapter 20, Page 186-187