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The bald man began to struggle. "Let me go. I will be useful to you, Blackthorne. I can help you get information. Please. Let me go."
The plea, so reminiscent of her own begging for mercy, left a sour taste in her mouth. She stayed in place as the gasoline spread on the floor right under him and his dead friend, watching Dainn stepping back until he was right at her side. Quietly, without taking his eyes away from the scene, he pulled her out of the room. Something cool, metallic found her palm.
Lyla looked down, seeing a lighter. His lighter.
He had given her his fire.
Emotions a flurry in her chest, she focused on the monster begging inside, channeling her fear and pain and rage to one source, and flicked the lighter open.
The sight of the flame had the bald man crying pitifully, and she felt the rush of power again. She'd never thought she would kill someone, but if there was one person who deserved to burn in hell, it was this man.
Without a twinge of doubt, remembering not only what he'd done to her but knowing what he'd done to so many others like her, she threw the lighter into the room.
As the flames began to spread, and screams rent the air, Lyla stood with her devil and watched one of her demons and one of her hells be destroyed.
