Page 80 of Catching Fire

With the large kitchen knife clutched close, she waited. It was maybe two seconds of eternity later that she realized she was holding it wrong. She turned the blade outward and changed her grip so that her thumb was over the end, giving her more force. She’d not practiced like this—why would she?—but she’d seen that this was the better way to go into a knife fight.

After another moment when nothing happened, she reached down and got the second smaller knife. Was there anywhere on her that she could keep it?

The smaller one might be easier to wield and having a second weapon at hand wouldn’t hurt. She stuck it in her back pocket, thinking it just might injure her. But a cut on her ass was better than not having a knife if she needed it.

Gripping the large blade with two hands now, she plastered herself to the wall behind the corner and waited. She couldn’t afford to peek down the hallway and give herself away, so she breathed shallowly and listened hard.

She heard nothing.

He wouldn't have left.

For a moment, everything stood still, and then the shadow passed the window.

Her guts leapt into her throat as she saw Sanders’ face appear.

Chapter Fifty-Four

Sanders looked at her through the glass and held her gaze as he grinned.

In that moment, Seline knew she was as good as dead. Had she not been held motionless with fear, she would have shuddered at the ice that gripped its fingers down her spine and along every nerve ending.

But he just stared, as if knowing the worst thing he could do was terrorize her. Sanders didn't raise a gun and shoot her through the window. Instead, he nodded and passed by, heading around the side of the house.

She felt the flare of conviction that she wouldn’t die easily.

As soon as he was out of sight, she ran. She needed another hiding place. One he couldn't see from outside. She searched frantically through the living room but found nothing well enough hidden.

The bathroom! It wouldn’t have windows he could peer into!

She could hear him outside as she raced back down the short hallway, wondering if he was watching her disorganized search. But she pushed the door mostly closed and got a smart idea.

Good.

She dared to set down the knife for a moment and unscrewed the cap of the bottle of cleaner she’d found under the sink.

Then she waited, jug in one hand, knife in the other.

She waited until she heard him come through the side door, using the path she’d already made. She heard the softest of footsteps as he crossed through the living area. Only when she heard him in the hallway, did she slap the door wide open.

He was further away than she'd anticipated, but he lunged for her anyway.

She ran toward him—hopefully not what he was expecting—and she arced her arm upward, managing to aim the open top of the jug at his face. The caustic bathroom cleaner caught him in the eyes and his open mouth.

Yes!she thought.

But though he bellowed in rage and clawed at his own eyes in pain, he was now directly in her way.

She hadn't thought this through well enough. As fast as her brain had been racing, as many plans as she’d considered and rejected, she’d somehow managed to trap herself.

Oh, well, she thought. She’d come this far. If the only way out wasthrough, then she’d go through him.

She’d just burned his eyes badly enough that he'd never see again. So she dropped the jug, already rushing him as she had heard it hit the ground. This time she raised the knife. Her primal scream echoed off the walls and she knew she was going to kill him.

But as she went to drive the blade into his chest, his hands closed over her wrist.

Seline fought back with everything she had, though it wasn't worth much. She kicked out but missed contact. She planted her right foot and rammed her left knee up and tried to nail him in the groin.

Sanders avoided everything she threw.

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