Emma looked up as they finally made the turn onto Duncan’s street and the house came into view. “Oh, shit,” she breathed. Then to the guard captain, “We’re coming up on the gate now, can you get us inside?”

“Definitely. But, Marlon, you’ll have to park outside.” His voice started jumping, as if he was running. “I’m on my way to the gate. I’ll meet you there.”

Marlon double-parked as close to the gate as he could get, then wrapped a meaty arm around her waist and all but carried her forward. He had to shove his way through the crowd, ignoring angry shouts and demands from uniformed police that they stop. The only thing that was going to stop them was a bullet, and no policeman would risk shooting them in this crowd. She hoped.

“There he is,” Marlon said, shouting to be heard above the noise of the crowd and the firefighting trucks and equipment ranged inside the estate walls. They might not be able to get inside the house, but they certainly weren’t giving up on fighting it from the outside.

A tall, exotic-looking black man waved at them as he stepped over to the policeman guarding the open gate and said a few words. The officer looked up, then lowered his head and triggered his shoulder radio. Almost instantly, a hole opened up in the throng to disgorge two burly cops who hustled Emma and Marlon past the wall.

“Ms. Duquet,” the black man said. “I’m Jackson Hissong, Lord Duncan’s Chief of Daylight Security.”

“Call me Emma,” she reminded him, shaking his hand quickly. “What can I do?” She ran alongside Hissong as he spun and jogged over the lawn to the front of the house where some sort of command post had been set up.

“First, you need to back me up with the fire captain. They cannot go in that house.”

“Look, Jackson, this isn’t even a real embassy, and I’m not sure what the law says about a situation like this, even if it was.”

“But you’re a lawyer, right?”

“Yes, but I don’t have any authority to—”

“Good enough. You’re acting as Lord Duncan’s agent in this, and as the only individual authorized to enter the premises.”

“Then, maybe I should tell the fire department it’s okay for them to enter, so—”

“No,” Hissong said, stopping to regard her steadily. “You absolutely cannot do that.”

“But what if Duncan and the others are in there and they’re hurt?” Emma asked, anguished.

“Lord Duncan knows the risks better than you do, and I’ve trained with Miguel for ten years. This isn’t a matter of some lame protocol or diplomatic immunity. This is a vampire’s residence. I already have private fire contractors on their way, but in the meantime, if those guys—” He gestured at the firefighters all around them. “—break into that house, the vampires inside will be completely vulnerable. And what if that was the plan? Most of them are probably decent, courageous public servants doing a dangerous job. But what if just one of them isn’t who he seems to be? He goes in there, finds the vampires and—” He slapped his hands together, making Emma jump in surprise. “That fast, Emma. It’s all over. There’s a reason for these restrictions. Lord Duncan’s a smart man, and so’s Miguel. You have to trust them.”

“I do, but—”

“No buts, babe. You back me up, or you don’t talk to the fire captain at all. There’s no other option.”

Emma scowled. “You’re serious.”

“As a heart attack,” Hissong replied.

Emma looked away, staring at the house. The fire seemed to be under control, but what did she know about things like that? They were still spraying water, and men were still working all around the wreckage. Her heart stopped as she recognized what she was seeing. That was Duncan’s room. Or it had been. The explosion had gone off right beneath the room she and Duncan shared, blowing out windows and ripping out big chunks of the wall. She couldn’t see into the house, couldn’t tell if Duncan was there—the hole wasn’t that big and there was water spraying everywhere, and too much equipment in the way.

Tammy Dietrich’s warning that they were in danger came back to her. But she didn’t trust Dietrich. Maybe the phone call had been a ploy to get Emma back here in time to die in the explosion herself.

She looked at Jackson Hissong, his dark face glistening with dirt and sweat, hands on his hips as he studied her, waiting.

“Fine,” she said. “We’ll do it your way.”

Hissong nodded, as if there’d never been any other possibility. He took her upper arm, guiding her forward. “Watch your step,” he warned. “There’s a lot of crap on the ground.”

Emma realized for the first time that she was still wearing the three inch heels she’d worn to the office that morning. She hadn’t had time to change before racing out of her house to get back here. She sighed and was grateful for the support of Hissong’s hand on her arm.

“Captain Stavros,” Hissong called, his deep voice carrying despite the roar of sound all around them, not only from the equipment and the rush of water, but from the fire itself.

A tall man in yellow turnout gear finished his conversation with two other firefighters before favoring Hissong with a scowl which he quickly transferred to Emma.

“Captain, this is Emma Duquet, Lord Duncan’s attorney.”

Stavros’ eyes were weary as he looked her up and down, but that didn’t mask the clear fact that he was not impressed. Whether it was with her specifically, or lawyers in general, Emma didn’t know. Either way, it got her back up like nothing else would have. She might not agree with Hissong’s decision on this, but having met Captain Stavros, she would fight for it with her last breath.

“You’re the lawyer?” he said doubtfully.

“Yes, I am. Is there a problem?” she said coolly, deciding a head-on approach was the only kind that would work in this instance.

“Yeah, there’s a problem. We need to get inside this structure and your man here is stopping us. You’re lucky I haven’t had him arrested along with all—”

“Captain Stavros, you cannot have risen to the position you have in the District without being aware of the law regarding foreign embassies, which is that the embassy itself is, for all intents and purposes, the sovereign territory of the respective nation.”

“Of course, I’m aware of that,” he said testily. “But I’m not required to stand by and watch the damn building burn to the ground, putting other people and properties at risk. All I’m—”

“There is far more at risk here than property. This is the vampire embassy. There are a large number of vampires inside that house, and I’m certain every one of them is pissed as hell right now. You want your men to deal with that?”

“Hell, no, but that’s a risk we take, just like every other risk on this job. Besides,” he added, lowering his voice. “I thought vampires slept during the day.”

Emma gave him a small smile and lied through her teeth. “You’ve been watching the wrong movies, Captain. Look,” she continued in a conciliatory voice, “it rained last night, everything is wet, including the surrounding properties. On top of that, Mister Hissong’s men activated the automated sprinkler system and with the distance between houses, the chances of the fire spreading have got to be slim.”[__]

“So, maybe I should instruct my[__] men to pull out and let the damn house burn,” Stavros replied, clearly not feeling in a conciliatory mood.

“And that is certainly your prerogative. I understand we already have private contractors en route to continue fighting the blaze.”

“Son of a—” Stavros glared at her. Anyone who worked or lived in the District, especially in an official capacity, knew the minefields associated with the various embassies and their personnel. And regardless of her jab at the fire captain earlier, she knew he had to have successfully negotiated more than one such encounter in the past in order to rise as high in the department as he had.

“Fine,” he snapped. “We’ll do what we can from out here, but the liability is yours, lady. And you keep those damn amateurs of yours away from my fire.” He stormed off without waiting for her reply, and Emma blew out a long, relieved breath.

“Nicely done, Emma,” Hissong said in her ear. “I knew you had it in you.”

“Bullshit,” she said succinctly. “You know nothing about me. What time is it?”

“Ten minutes until sunset. Let’s get you out of the spotlight, yes?”

“Yes,” Emma agreed, suddenly feeling shaky. Her confrontation with Stavros had let her forget exactly what was at stake here. But now all she could think about was Duncan and whether he was still alive, or, even worse, whether he would wake at sunset to find himself and his vampires trapped in a prison of fire.

She let Hissong take her arm again, aware of Marlon on her other side as they hurried her around to the back of the residence. It was quieter back here, with the main part of the fire seeming to be concentrated on the front of the building. But there were firefighters here, too, and Emma could see the ominous orange glow of flames dancing in the many windows. The whole house would go up before long.

Emma coughed as the fire surged from an upstairs window, blowing smoke and greasy soot right into her face. Hissong moved to shelter her from the worst of it.

“Come on,” he said, “the garages are clear. We can get you away from all of this.” He pulled a set of keys out of his pocket and handed them to Marlon who hurried ahead.

“Have they shared any information with you about how this got started?” she asked as they detoured around the soaking wet piles of construction material.

“The fire department? No, it’s too soon for their investigation. But I don’t need them, I know what happened.”

Emma dug in her heels, forcing him to stop. “You do? How?”