Chapter 45
The knife was bent at the tip but still useable. It was a wonder resting in the palm of Jaxom’s hand. He had no idea how Ksenia had done it. He’d woken up to see her concentrating on the guard table, only to jump with her as the knife had flown across the floor and slammed into the wall.
Then that fucking witch had come in to terrorize them.
The healing brew, if one wanted to call it that, had stopped a slow death from a punctured lung.
She couldn’t give him too many more brews like that.
They stopped working after a while. His body was hampered with wolf’s bane overdoses and too many beatings.
Everything died eventually but she was able to slow that down some.
The witch tried to interrogate Ksenia but it didn’t work. Something didn’t connect with the strange woman who could make knives fly at walls. She was somehow immune to the witch, at least for the moment. Ksenia absolutely intrigued him.
When no one but Jaxom was looking, Ksenia was clearly fully mentally functional.
Somehow, she’d known to play unstable to keep the guards away from her.
The rapist bastards liked normal women to fuck.
Hurting a woman who clearly didn’t understand what was going on, a child in nature, was going to a level they couldn’t go, at least for the moment.
“Come here, Ksenia,” he said softly. She was still shaken from her encounter with the witch. Not that he blamed her. The witch needed to die.
Ksenia wiped the tears off her face and scrambled onto the mattress as close to him as she could get. Jaxom wrapped an arm around her thin, cold form. She didn’t deserve to be down here. It didn’t matter what she’d done, this place was inhumane. She’d shown him kindness in a place designed to kill.
“You okay?” he asked, not expecting much of an answer.
She nodded, said something, and pointed at his wound. The ripped, bloody piece of shirt was covering it. He gently peeled it off. The wound looked like a scratch now. The other whip marks had closed a little, too. Better than they were but still painful with every move.
Ksenia closed her eyes and sighed in what seemed to be relief.
She patted his thigh, drew his head over to kiss his forehead, and then rested her head on his shoulder.
The lady was a cuddly little thing. Jaxom didn’t mind.
It fit his needs at the moment, too. Not as good as his mates but definitely a comfort.
“Want to try the knife again?”
He handed it to her and she took it gently. She bounced the knife in the palm of her hand like she was used to feeling weight and balance.
She said something as she played with the handle. A soft smile was sad and wistful. More words Jaxom wished he understood. Her voice was soft with a hint of melody. Liquid and fluid. A sound that could easily get under a man’s skin.
Ksenia looked at him with those beautiful brown eyes and smiled as she said, “So?” He had no idea what that word meant, just enjoyed the sound.
She looked at the knife, took a deep breath, and opened her fingers so it lay flat in her palm.
The knife balanced, ready. Jaxom gasped as the knife wiggled, then slowly floated two finger lengths above her palm.
He squeezed her in excitement as she started to giggle.
The knife wobbled and plopped back onto her palm. Fingers kept it from falling.
“How?”
Ksenia may not have understood the word but she understood the tone.
A cute shrug and a brilliant smile had him smiling back.
The silver tendril was more fully formed now.
It touched his body, linking them together.
He’d watched it grow through the game of throwing knives and just enjoying her presence in this hell hole.
It especially grew as they huddled together in the ice cold nights.
“Again,” he encouraged her. She was clearly not a physical fighter but if she could get him some more knives he could maybe get them out. Of course, he’d need to be able to walk but that was a problem for later. Now was the time for mastery.
She pointed at the knife, pointed to her mouth and said a word.
“Your word for it?” he asked and tried to repeat it.
She smiled, said it again and then pointed at him.
“Knife,” he said in his language.
She nodded and repeated it.
She nodded again and closed her eyes for a moment. A deep breath and her fist opened. The knife hovered, then shot across her cell to bang against the far wall. Rocks and dust puffed all over the floor.
Jaxom started to laugh as Ksenia dissolved into a fit of giggles. Her laughter was infectious. She got up and retrieved the mangled knife. The blade was bent and rippled from it’s impact against the wall. She handed it to Jaxom as she shrugged and said something else.
Jaxom counted out four bricks from the bars of her cell on the far wall and then five up.
He gestured to the wall pointing out the bricks, four fingers up and then five.
Ksenia walked to the wall, pointed to the bars, counted out four bricks over and five up.
Jaxom had no idea how he’d got that idea across for her to pick up so quickly. She was a smart lady.
Ksenia sat back down beside him, snuggled in for warmth, picked up the mangled knife and sent it flying across the cell at the chosen brick. Bullseye. Dust and chipped brick flew into the air and fell to the floor. Ksenia did a quiet cheer, fists raised up in the air.
“Can you get another knife? I think you killed that one.” Jaxom pointed to the guard table and pantomimed wielding a knife.
A beautiful smile lit up Ksenia’s face. She gave a firm nod and concentrated on the guard table.
Small little clunks sounded in the dungeon and two sharp knives fell to the floor.
She slowly scooted them to Jaxom, a smile of triumph brightening everything around her.
“So, it’s either speed and death or tiny little movement. No middle ground?” he asked her. She lifted her hands in an ‘I don’t know’ gesture. “This language barrier is a bitch. Let’s get some rest.”
Jaxom lifted his arms in a hug motion. Ksenia settled on the mattress and leaned into his one armed embrace.
Her shoulder a pillow for his head. Before Jaxom fell asleep, he tucked the knives in a crack near the floor.
It was time to get out of this place. He had a Luna to find and this amazing woman to rescue.