Page 81 of Catching Fire

White hot pain seared her wrist as he twisted it, forcing her to let go of the knife. In a move she'd not anticipated, the knife did not fall to the ground, but wound up in his hand.

Ducking and lunging was the only thing that saved her from taking the knife directly through her heart. But he stabbed it downward into her side. The blaze of hot pain bloomed through her side and she could feel the warmth of her own blood seeping out.

Shock was likely the only thing keeping her upright.

With a sneer, Sanders stepped back. His eyes were red and puffy, his mouth drooling, looking—finally—less like a man and more like the hideous creature that he was. But his expression said that he knew that he'd won.

In that moment, Seline had a blinding flash of clarity.She was as good as dead.

Her only hope now was to take Sanders with her.

She bolted toward him, ignoring the pain shooting through her right side, from her toes to her shoulder. With each step, Sanders watched her approach, the confident grin remaining in place.

At the last possible moment, Seline reached into her back pocket and pulled out the steak knife. This time she did manage to take him by surprise as she plunged into his chest.

It went in much easier than she had expected. In the adrenaline-fueled haze of the moment, she saw that she'd punched it in sideways.Had she been smart enough to weave it between his ribs?

It didn't matter. His face contorted in pain.

Had she hit his heart?She didn't know.

Her head pounded, and noise came from all sides. Her ears rang with wavering high pitched wails underlaid with a gravelly static. It was probably the sound her body made as she gave up on this life.

Sanders bellowed again.

She had the kitchen knife sticking out of her torso, but he now had a steak knife sticking out of his chest. She felt a moment of satisfaction at that.

This time, he didn't lunge for her. Instead, he turned away and ran.

Her last thought before she collapsed onto the floor was that somehow the bastard was still alive.

Chapter Fifty-Five

Kalan ran past the still burning remains of the exploded home, his feet pounding the hard earth as his eyes darted in every direction.

While much of the house still stood, there was nothing he could check. Firefighters had arrived before he and the agents had, and they’d already turned water to the blaze. He knew better than to get in their way.

Kalan only hoped they could see enough to know that no one was inside.

The FBI agents had their guns drawn, but Kalan's hands were empty.

They hadn't wanted to bring him, but he’d simply followed them out to the driveway and climbed in the backseat of Verner and Rossi's old sedan.

Though Rossi had demanded, “You can't be here.” Kalan only answered, “okay,” and proceeded to buckle himself in. He watched as the two women in the front seat looked to each other and simply gave up before peeling out of the driveway.

Now, he and Verner and Rossi ran around one side of the house, as Watson and Decker squealed to a stop behind them. Kalan veered around the car the explosion had overturned. And once again, Kalan thought,Way to go, Seline!

“Car’s clear!” Decker called.

“Blood?” Rossi yelled back.

“No. I don't think anyone was in it when it flipped. The doors are all still closed.”

Kalan heard the conversation as though the others were at some great distance, until Watson declared, “I'm going to do a search for body parts.”

With that, he felt his stomach clench. His feet stopped and he would have toppled over had he not had way too much practice running and changing direction suddenly.

But he headed back to the house, getting as close as he dared, and this time he joined the conversation. “Seline’s not in there.”

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