Page 97 of Choosing Stella

I stepped between him and Stella.

Volkov slashed.

The knife caught my sleeve without reaching skin.

I went for his wrist again.

A chair slammed into the side of Volkov’s knees.

Stella had shoved it past me.

Volkov buckled.

I took him down.

He twisted beneath me and grabbed for the knife where it had fallen.

His fingers closed around the handle.

I trapped his wrist before he could drive it into my side.

We fought over the angle.

Then he tore loose and came up toward Stella.

I drew my weapon.

“Stop.”

Volkov kept going.

I fired.

The first round hit him in the chest.

He stopped, looked down, and still took another step toward Stella.

I fired again.

Volkov fell.

The knife landed beside him.

I kept my weapon trained on him until I was certain he wasn’t getting back up.

Then I holstered it and crossed to Stella.

“Are you hurt?”

“He didn’t cut me.”

“Did he hit you?”

“No, he didn’t.”

She pressed her fingers to her temple.

Her face had gone pale, and sweat shone lightly near her hairline.