18
Sasha
Smell was his strongest sense, and that was what returned to him first as he swam up out of the darkness, becoming aware that he was alive, and that he felt really, really terrible. Sasha dragged a ragged breath in through his mouth and smelled sweat, and urine – his own – and the sickly-sweet tang of chemicals mingling with the two; his body trying to get rid of the drug they’d used to put him under. But under those scents he detected metal, and fresh paint; bleach and lemon-scented disinfectant; rubbing alcohol, and latex gloves. And humans. Lots and lots of humans.
He tried to open his eyes and they were crusted shut.
Opened his mouth and his lips pulled apart like half-dried, peeling paint, his tongue thick and coated.
He could hear voices, indistinct murmurs, and the hum and swish and beep of machines. The distant thump of doors opening and closing.
There was something…something…
He finally got his eyes open a crack and recoiled from the bright light above him, growling brokenly in the back of his throat.
“He’s awake,” a man’s voice said, and shoes shuffled across slick tile floors.
There was a cool slab beneath him, and cuffs pinning his wrists, and ankles, and torso to it.
Two things hit him all at once, blasting through the last of the drug’s fog:
One: he was in a lab. He knew because he’d been in one before.
And two: there was a vampire here. Somewhere near. And he wasn’t one that Sasha had ever scented before.
He opened his eyes, not caring that they watered beneath the assault of the light. Opened his lungs and nostrils, sucked in air, trying to take in as much of his surroundings as possible.
A young man in a white lab coat approached him and he growled, a low, deep, constant rumble.
The young man hesitated, eyes widening. “Um…doctor?”
A second man stepped forward, this one older, more confident. An unremarkable man with glasses and gray hair, a pleasant smile.
“Hello, Sasha,” he said. “My name’s Doctor Talbot.”
Sasha bared his teeth, opened his mouth, andsnarled.
The doctor chuckled.
Something tugged at the crook of his elbow – a needle. He had an IV. And Dr. Talbot’s hand was on the line, pressing the button there.
Oh, Sasha thought, as the room tilted. More drugs. Sending him back under.
Where was Nikita? he wondered, frantically, panic clawing at his insides as his vision wavered. He would be so worried, so frantic, and trying not to show it, not letting anyone help him. Nik needed to feed, he needed Sasha to…to…
Please no, he thought, wildly, desperately.
And then he was gone again.
