Rafael bit back a foul curse. One more second and he would have had her. "House is fine."

"No. No, it's not. Do you even have an evacuation plan for what to do if it were to catch fire during the daylight? You know you could roast and die quite easily, then you'd be a soulless Shade and screwed for eternity."

That went over him like a cold shower. Now there was something he'd never thought about before, and he was pretty good at putting together disaster plans.

"It happens a lot with these older homes," she continued. "What with their faulty wiring and all. I heard of one Dark-Hunter who died like that just last year."

"Who?"

"I can't remember the name, but it was one of the Dark-Hunters in England. Total barbecue. You can check it on the Web site."

He'd really rather not. No Dark-Hunter liked to read about the death of another one. It brought home that even though they were technically immortal, there were still things out there that could kill them. And having died already, it wasn't something Rafael wanted to experience again.

Still, she didn't relent. "You should contact a friend of mine. He specializes in fireproofing underground bunkers for Dark-Hunters. He can put in a sprinkler system and—"

"You're rambling."

"No, I'm not. Dark-Hunter safety is a Squire's number one priority. In fact, I'll call Leonard first thing in the morning and see when he can come out for an estimate. We should also make sure that you have a roll bar in your car in case you flip over in a wreck. Oh, and a steel bar shield on the driver's side in the event you run up under something, so that you can't be decapitated."

Without conscious thought, Rafael's hand went to his throat. Damn, the woman gave paranoia a whole new meaning.

"We should also look into the history of this house and make sure that it was never used as a bed-and-breakfast."