I drove around the final corner. When I saw the scene that greeted us, my mouth dropped open in horror. Clanging sirens screamed from all directions.
‘Emma! Is it bad?’
I whispered. ‘Yes. Yes, it is. You should get here if you can.’
My eyes travelled across the blazing inferno that was engulfing the whole Supe Squad building. I counted eight fire engines outside. All the buildings nearby, including the neighbouring hotel, had clearly been evacuated. A large crowd of gaping people were being held back by a cordon at the far end of the street while dark smoke billowed to the north.
Lukas’s hand reached for mine and squeezed it tightly, then we got out of Tallulah and ran towards the fire. We didn’t get very far. ‘You have to wait back here,’ a uniformed police officer told us as we elbowed our way through to reach the cordon.
‘I’m DC Bellamy,’ I said. ‘That’s my building.’
‘ID?’ he asked.
I reached for my warrant card then remembered I no longer had it. ‘I don’t have it with me,’ I said through gritted teeth.
‘I’m Lord Horvath,’ Lukas said. ‘This area is under supe control and we need to gain access.’
Whether the policeman recognised Lukas or not, he wasn’t intimidated. ‘You need to let the fire crews do their job. The building in question is run by humans and falls under the remit of the Met police. You have to stay back, sir. You can’t help.’
I looked beyond him and spotted two ambulances parked to the left of the fire engines. ‘Is anyone in the building?’
‘We don’t know that yet.’
‘Is it arson?’
‘Ma’am, I don’t have any answers,’ he said firmly. ‘Take a step back.’
Above the roar of the fire and the screech of the fire alarms and sirens, I heard a growl rumble in Lukas’s chest. I placed a hand on his arm to calm him. That was when I heard a mild snort to my right. ‘My tiny violin weeps for the loss of Supernatural Squad,’ a man’s voice said, his sarcasm obvious.
I whirled around and saw Stubman, Max’s counterpart who worked the nightshift at the hotel next door. Without thinking, I advanced towards him. ‘People might be dying in there,’ I spat. ‘And you’re celebrating!’
The unlikely figure of Lady Sullivan stepped between us. ‘Leave it,’ she told me. ‘He’s not worth it.’
I looked from her to the three other werewolf clan alphas who were also in attendance. News of the fire had spread fast and, judging from their expressions, they were all concerned.
Then I saw Buffy, white-faced and shaking. ‘Fred could have been in there,’ she said.
‘He’s not?’ I asked, urgently.
‘He’s out with Grace. He called me half an hour ago. He said he was on his way home from somewhere outside London but he was going to be late.’
My shoulders sagged with relief.
A moment later, Liza appeared. ‘Owen!’ she shrieked. She threw herself towards the cordon. Yet again, the policeman held up his hands, forcing her back.
‘He’s not there, Liza,’ I told her. ‘Buffy spoke to Fred thirty minutes ago. They’re together. They’re not in the city.’
‘He’s not answering his fucking phone, Emma. He always answers his phone.’
Liza was right: he always did. ‘Maybe it needs charging.’
She threw me a scornful look. ‘When was the last time he let his phone run out of battery?’
Never. ‘Maybe there’s no signal,’ I said weakly. I looked at Buffy. ‘Have you tried calling Fred again?’
‘He’s not picking up either,’ she muttered.
Shit.
