The Chronicles of Heaven's War: Sisters of the Bloodwind

  *

  Mihai opened her eyes as the first rays of morning sunlight filtered through the curtains and across the bed. Paul was gently rocking her, giving her tired body the occasional shake. Still groggy, she beseeched him through tired lips, “Oh please, Love! It’s quite enough. You’re shaking me to jelly. I’ll live! I promise… promise… I’ll live another day.”

  Worry lines cut deep into Paul’s face, his frustration at the night showing in troubled eyes. His concerned smile and shaking hands puzzled Mihai, commenting at what the fuss was all about. Paul said nothing, soaking in Mihai’s complaints as if life-giving air to starving lungs. Finally, with tears in his eyes, he cried, “Oh, my Love! My dear sweet Mihai returned from the dead! My Love…!”

  “Oh, what’s the fuss?!” Mihai sputtered as she struggled to sit. “A bad dream is all it was. One little…” She gasped aloud looking at the surrounding destruction.

  The bed was red from her bloody sweat. Littered about, like chaff in a field after a storm, countless golden strands of her hair clung to the wet sheets. “Up! Help me up ple…” Mihai let out another gasp as her eyes focused upon Paul.

  It was now her turn to carry a worried question. “What beast has haunted these rooms this night?! You look no better for wear than I feel. Tell me, please, what has come of us?”

  Paul shook his head, somewhat relieved at hearing the old Mihai speaking. “It was the demon of love, my dear, the monster who strikes out blindly when all hope is lost. But you have returned to me! I remember no struggle, only hope restored to my heart.”

  Paul had been a good boy like Ma-we had requested, and stayed with Mihai throughout her ordeal, Ma-we having told him that his presence, alone, should such an event occur, would do wonders at warding off the demon attacks. ‘The time is close for the haunting hour when darkness shall rule for but a moment. It is your duty not to leave my child’s side until that time has passed into nothingness. Do not leave the girl’s side until the witching hour is gone.”

  “Help me up, please.” Mihai again asked, almost pleading.

  With Paul’s assistance, she managed her way from the bed to the mirror at the far end of the room. Mihai leaned close and, peering out through bloodshot eyes, studied the tortured creature staring back at her. She groaned with disquiet. Standing there was the most pitiable of living things, a face scratched and puffy gray from the bruising struggle, a head of hair disheveled and torn, bald spots where clumps of golden tresses had been violently yanked from their nests. Mihai looked a mess. To top this off was a bleeding wound that oozed crimson from the corner of a blackened, swollen lip.

  She turned around and, catching Paul’s worried gaze, sputtered, “I look like shit! Draw me, please, a bath… and fill it, please, with those mineral spirits I keep in the cupboard.” Turning back to the mirror while touching a finger to her lip, she fussed, “This is great! Just great! We leave today and I look like the losing hen in a fight over an old cock rooster! Shit!”

  Paul stood back, aghast. “Here I thought you were about to die! In fact, I thought you already so! And all you’re worried about is how comely your appearance?! What is it with your kind anyway? Is the whole world crazy?”

  Mihai continued to study her wounds in the mirror, saying nothing. At length she turned, replying through a painful smile. “It’s about time you noticed one of my better qualities. Yes, we are all quite mad here. How else do you think we could tolerate your kind at all? Always so quick to jump into the pot your kind, not testing the waters first and, speaking of water, will you be kind enough to fix me that bath?”

  Reaching up to examine Paul’s injuries, Mihai put on a pout, cooing her remorse that her gallant hero had suffered so this last night. Tilting her head so flirtingly to the side she kissed him, whispering, “Come, my warrior saint, and assist me with my bath. You, too, should be refreshed in the healing waters of the sacred springs of Diamond Ridge. There’s plenty of room in the golden tub for us both. Come, my dear, I shall heal your soul while you also do mine.”

  Throwing his hands up in confusion, Paul exclaimed, “I don’t understand! After all this you seek love’s cure? What…?”

  Mihai silenced him, taking his hand. “How little one understands. Come refresh your soul and spirit. A hot bath of mineral delights helps to heal the flesh. A potion of male delights helps to heal my spirit. Come and I shall seek ways to heal your flesh and spirit as well. We both need a bath.”