Page 9 of Fury of Affliction
A high-tech operating suite beyond both.
Without breaking stride, she crossed the threshold. Her boot soles hit slick and slid on linoleum. Not understanding, she regained her balance and glanced down. Blood on the floor. Pools of it surrounding an operating table draped in blue sheets, surrounded by humans wearing surgical scrubs, masks and?—
“Call it, Dr. Finnley.”
The breath left her body. Her mind went blank.
A loud exhale. The snap of latex gloves. “Time of death…8:43pm.”
“The baby?”
“No,” someone inside the suite murmured, tone trailing sorrow. “He didn’t make it.”
“Goddamn it,” the surgeon whispered. “How did we lose them both?”
“She bled out,” a nurse said. “Catastrophic cardiac event.”
“I know that, Sandy.” His brow furrowed. The surgeon glared at his assistant over his mask. “But how?”
“No clotting factor,” someone else said. “Nothing in her blood panel suggested any problems before she went into v-fib.”
Feet rooted to the floor, she shook her head in denial. It couldn’t be true. She didn’t want it to be true, but then, the operating team’s words registered.Bled out.Unable to clot. Time of death. God…God…God.The healing power of earth magic hadn’t helped at all. None of her precautions mattered. Nothing she’d done to keep Amanda stable, to prevent her death had?—
“Fuck,” the surgeon muttered, snapping his gloves off. “I want an autopsy to confirm. Full investigation.”
Silence met the pronouncement.
Machines defied the quiet, humming as the human rabble stood unmoving around Amanda. No beep on the heart rate monitor. No breath in her lungs. The devastating smell of death hovering in the air. A nurse moved, breaking through the silent coven to set a swaddled bundle with a blue hat on the table next to her friend’s body.
The horror held her suspended before…
Rage and shock ripped through it, tearing at the edges of her mind.
A rumble started inside her head, then grew and deepened as grief carved her open. Bleeding pain, she screamed. Trapped inside the cloaking spell, no one heard her, but magic spilled out, pouring from her veins into the room. The earth answered her anguish, striking like a poisonous sidewinder.
The hospital’s foundation cracked.
The building shook.
The floor heaved.
Fissures opened seams in the walls. Metal tray tables flipped over. Surgical instruments went flying as high-powered lights swayed.
With a series of curses, the medical team abandoned their patient. Rubber soles leaving a bloody trail, humans streamed around her, exiting the OR as her knees hit the floor. Tears tightened the back of her throat. As each pooled in her eyes, she stared at her swaddled son laying lifeless on the table beside his dead mother.
God forgive her.
It was her fault.All her fault.
No matter how much Amanda wanted it, she should’ve stayed away. Held the line and said no. Instead, she’d caved under the pressure, giving her friend what she wanted, needing to be needed, and become delusional in the process. And as the building trembled and lights winked out, she tipped her head back and railed at the unfairness. At the brutal truth of what she’d done. She screamed until she grew hoarse and could no longer breathe.
A sob escaped her.
Swamped by grief and guilt, she crawled through blood to the edge of the table. Grasping the edge, she pulled herself up, tears spilling over as she cupped Amanda’s cheek and picked up her son.
“I’m sorry,” she rasped. “So fucking sorry.”
But it was too late for regret.