The Girl in the Steel Corset - By Kady Cross Page 0,77

up. Obviously her darker half hadn’t left her completely, probably because she felt so terribly guilty.

Griffin guided her to another room off the lab. It was small, but frighteningly clean and well lit. A lone table stood in the center of the room, a huge chandelier hanging overhead. It was a surgery, she realized. Quickly, she carried Sam to the table. There was a terrible pallor to his face, a light sheen of sweat over his skin.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered to him, her voice cracking. “I’m so sorry.”

“Open his shirt,” Emily demanded, and Finley was so eager to fix her mistake she ripped the buttons off his waistcoat and tore his shirt right down the middle, the fine lawn giving away like tissue paper.

Sam’s chest was broad and muscled, and it was already beginning to bruise where she kicked him—not a good sign.

“Wash your hands,” Emily told her. “You’re going to help me. Griffin, get the ether and Listerine out of the cabinet. Clean linen, too.”

“What are you going to do?” Finley asked.

Emily glanced at her with unnervingly steady eyes. “I’m going to cut open his chest and fix his heart.”

For a moment Griffin thought Finley might faint she went so pale, but then she gave her head a shake and went to wash her hands at the sink as Emily demanded.

The inside of his cheek had torn against his teeth when Sam backhanded him and he could taste blood in his mouth, see it on the front of his shirt. He wasn’t even angry. At this moment all that mattered was saving Sam. Again.

If Finley hadn’t done this, what would he have done? He had felt the Aether rushing to him in his anger. He would have done far more damage than this. He might have killed them all.

This was too much like the previous time they had operated on Sam. Not so much blood and carnage, but horrible all the same. He didn’t want to stand there and watch Emily do what needed to be done, but he refused to leave her alone. So, he put the ether-soaked cloth over Sam’s nose and mouth and watched as his friend slipped into a deep slumber before collecting the needles, pump and tubing for a transfusion. Last time Emily had operated, they discovered his blood was compatible with Sam’s. Quickly, he attached the equipment, piercing the vein on the inside of Sam’s large arm before doing the same with his own. Then he connected the small pump Emily had fashioned out of parts of a sewing machine. It powered up immediately, and within a few moments was producing enough steam to pull the blood from his arm into Sam’s. It was much quicker than waiting for gravity to do its work.

While he’d been busy readying the transfusion machine, Emily had readied her own tools and poured Dr. Lister’s “Listerine” disinfectant over her hands and Sam’s torso.

Then, she raised her scalpel and quickly cut into Sam’s chest. Finley handed Emily what she needed, doing what she was told quickly and without comment. Not even when she utilized that awful contraption for spreading Sam’s broken ribs apart did she falter, although she grew terribly pale.

Emily frowned as she peered inside Sam’s chest. “What the devil…”

“What is it?” Griffin demanded.

“Nothing that needs worrying right now,” she replied curtly. “One of the intake valves is broken. Finley, hand me that one on the tray beside you.”

Finley did, her eyes wide as she looked at Sam’s open chest.

Emily worked quickly and efficiently, but Griff was well aware of the minutes ticking by as she clamped and removed the faulty valve. Every second brought Sam closer to death. He didn’t know how long they’d been at this, but it felt like forever. He had yet to feel light-headed from blood loss, so he knew it couldn’t have been that long. The transfusion pump continued its slow “breathing,” inhaling Griffin’s blood and exhaling it into Sam.

“Finley, I need you to hold the broken edges of his ribs together so they can knit. Otherwise they’ll heal like this.”

Finley swallowed hard, but she didn’t hesitate to reach inside Sam’s chest and do what she was told. Emily tossed the ruined valve into a bin at her feet, wiped her wet hands on a square of linen and then set about affixing the new valve. Once it was in place, she removed the clamp. Griffin held his breath. His shoulders were stiff and the entire right side of his face