Chapter 13: The Fire and the Blood
POV: Lila
The gasoline had a beautiful smell—clean and sharp, promising transformation through combustion. Lila Tournay stood in her Miami apartment, spreading the accelerant with practiced precision across furniture she'd grown tired of, belongings that had outlived their usefulness, a life that needed dramatic revision.
The apartment had served its purpose. She'd used it to study Dexter, to position herself as his sponsor, to weave herself into his carefully constructed normalcy. But David Chen's knowing stare from their handshake had changed the equation. Someone was watching the watcher, and that made the space compromised.
More importantly, Dexter was pulling away. She could feel his emotional retreat, the way he answered her calls a beat too slowly, the careful distance he maintained during their NA meetings. Men always pulled away when they sensed her true nature, but Dexter was different. Dexter needed her—he just didn't realize it yet.
The fire would change that. Fire changed everything.
Lila struck the match and watched her old life catch flame with the hunger of something that had been waiting to burn. The blaze spread across the hardwood floors with liquid grace, consuming her possessions but leaving her feeling oddly liberated. Destruction was just another form of creation, after all.
She called Dexter from the street, letting genuine tears mix with calculated sobs. "Dexter? I need you. My apartment—there's been a fire. I don't know what to do."
He arrived in twelve minutes, still wearing his lab coat from work, face tight with the kind of controlled concern that most people mistook for emotional distance. But Lila recognized it for what it was: Dexter's version of panic.
"Are you hurt?" His hands moved across her arms and face, checking for injuries with clinical precision.
"No, I'm fine. But everything's gone. Everything." She pressed against him, feeling his body stiffen with discomfort before his protective instincts overrode his personal boundaries. "You're the only one who understands me, Dexter. The only one who doesn't judge."
The crowd of onlookers was growing—firefighters, neighbors, the usual collection of rubberneckers who found destruction entertaining. Lila scanned their faces absently until she spotted a familiar figure across the street.
David Chen stood beneath a streetlight, watching the blaze with the detached interest of a scientist observing an experiment. But when their eyes met across the chaos, something cold ran down Lila's spine. His expression wasn't curious or sympathetic—it was knowing.
"He knows. He knows what I did, how I did it, maybe even why. But how is that possible?"
David's stare held hers for a long moment before he melted back into the crowd, disappearing like smoke. But the damage was done. Whatever game they were playing, David Chen had just revealed that he was several moves ahead.
POV: Dexter
The fire investigators were thorough, professional, and predictably suspicious of accelerant patterns that suggested arson rather than accident. Dexter answered their questions with carefully modulated concern, playing the role of supportive friend while his analytical mind catalogued inconsistencies in Lila's story.
The fire had started in three separate locations. The burn patterns suggested gasoline as an accelerant. Lila's emotional responses were perfectly calibrated—distressed but not devastated, vulnerable but not broken. Everything about the scene screamed deliberate staging.
"Mr. Morgan?" Detective Debra appeared at his elbow like a materializing ghost. "What brings homicide to an arson scene?"
"Routine check. Sometimes fires are used to cover murders." Debra's sharp eyes swept the crowd before settling on a familiar figure. "David Chen. What are you doing here?"
David's lie came smoothly, without hesitation. "I was having dinner at that café across the street. Saw the smoke and came to see if I could help."
Debra's suspicion was immediate and obvious. "You're always nearby when interesting things happen, aren't you?"
"David's consulting on a case for me," Dexter interjected before the conversation could escalate. "Personal favor. I called him when Lila's fire started—thought we might need forensic equipment."
The explanation was thin but plausible. Debra backed off with visible reluctance, but her suspicious glances at David continued throughout the investigation.
Later, as the last fire truck pulled away, Dexter cornered David in the parking lot.
"You're drawing attention," he said quietly. "My sister's already suspicious of you. Be more careful."
David pulled out his ever-present phone and typed: Lila set the fire herself. I can prove it. But do you want me to?
The message hit Dexter like ice water. His own suspicions confirmed by someone whose analytical abilities he'd learned to trust.
"How can you prove it?"
David typed again: Pattern recognition. Her fire in London, Paris—same accelerant signature. Same emotional manipulation afterward. She's done this before.
"And you want to do what with this information?"
Make it go away. Quietly. Permanently.
Dexter studied his ally's face, seeing something cold and calculating beneath the helpful consultant facade. David Chen was offering to destroy Lila using information that should have been impossible to obtain.
"Do it," Dexter said.
POV: Elijah
Elijah spent the next eighteen hours transforming his supernatural knowledge into seemingly mundane detective work. The Leverage Finder had revealed Lila's arson history in vivid detail, but explaining that knowledge required creative research.
London fire department records. Paris insurance claims. Immigration documents. Social media archives. He constructed a paper trail that led investigators to Lila's past crimes without revealing his impossible knowledge source.
Probability Assessment: If investigators pursue Lila's criminal history?
82% probability of arrest within 48 hours. Evidence chain is solid, pattern recognition will trigger automatic review of current case.
Cost: $4,200.
He sent the anonymous tip to the fire marshal's office: Check Lila Tournay's background. Three fires, three cities, same accelerant pattern. Immigration records show false identity claims.
Then he waited, watching from his hotel room as the investigation machine ground into motion.
"I've just condemned a woman to prison using knowledge I obtained through supernatural means. The Entity's game is forcing me to play judge and jury with people's lives, using powers that make me functionally omniscient about their secrets."
But what choice did he have? Lila threatened Dexter's cover, and Dexter's survival was tied to his own. The Entity had designed a perfect moral trap—save himself by destroying others, or maintain ethical principles and fade into nonexistence.
Two days later, Lila was arrested for insurance fraud and arson. The evidence was overwhelming, the pattern undeniable. Three fires, three identities, three countries of carefully orchestrated destruction.
Dexter's text was brief: You were right. Thank you.
Elijah stared at the message, feeling no satisfaction in his victory. He'd used meta-knowledge to send a mentally ill woman to prison, manipulating investigations and ruining lives through supernatural advantages that she couldn't possibly defend against.
"The Entity is making me complicit in fates I can't justify. Each use of my powers makes me more of a monster, more willing to sacrifice others for my own survival. How much of my humanity can I lose before survival becomes meaningless?"
His bank balance showed the cost of his Miami intervention: negative $7,200. The Leverage Finder scan on Gus Fring had bankrupted him completely, leaving him financially underwater and unable to use the powers that kept him alive.
He needed income. Immediately. Legally or illegally, morally or otherwise.
The flight back to Albuquerque was turbulent, matching his internal state. Walter's text waited on his phone: Ever heard of Gustavo Fring?
Elijah closed his eyes and prepared for the next level of the Entity's game.
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