by Mandy Rosko
She froze up, her pretty eyes looking pretty damned horrified. "Tell me you're joking."
"I wish I was. It's expensive, trying to get drunk. But it can be done," he added, wanting to give her some semblance of hope. "Tell you what, when you're released, got full control of your inner beast and everything, I'll take you to get drunk."
She eyed him, as though wondering what he was going on about.
He was wondering the same thing since that was absolutely not what he was supposed to be saying to her at the moment. Or to anyone in his care.
"Are you... I mean, would you, really?"
She looked so hopeful. He couldn't deny her. The best he could do was hope that she would forget his promise when the time came and she was released. Or maybe he would be called away for a mission when she was let back out into the world, and he would be unable to deliver, leaving it to her friends to do.
"Absolutely."
He felt so scummy. But it made her happy, and that made the stupid wolf inside him happy, too.
"Thanks. That...that really means a lot. Gives me something to look forward to, you know?"
"To getting out of here?"
"To having a drink with you," she said, and she actually winked at him.
The unexpected flirt was enough to make him heat up from the inside out. He had to look away from her, forcing the burning in his face and neck to go away before she could see how hot and bothered she could make him.
"Right, well, now that I see that you're alright, I'll leave you be." He gestured and made to leave.
"I'll come with you," she said, coming out of the bushes and stepping up beside him quicker than he thought possible. Before he could move, she looped her arm with his, practically gluing herself to his side. He was up close and personal, feeling her soft flesh and all the right kinds of curves beneath the shapeless little uniform she wore. "By the way, I'm Trisha."
She didn't give a last name. He wasn't so sure if this was even her real name, or if it was a name she’d given herself, or if it had been what the scientists had called her back when they were doing their experiments.
He didn't ask. It seemed insensitive.
"And...your name is?" she asked, reminding him that he should be polite and return the introduction.
"Warren. Tremblay," he added after a long few seconds debating whether or not he should give his last name when Trisha wasn't so sure of her own.
"Warren," she said, wetting her lips and putting a finger to her chin as if testing the name on her tongue. "I like it. You look like a Warren."
"I do?"
She blinked those big eyes up at him, and he saw flowers from the bush had curled around her horn, making her look like something mythical and unreal, even with the bland uniform.
"Yeah. I could date a guy named Warren."
Jeeee-sus Christ, she was direct.
He had to get himself in check. It was impossible to tell if she was flirty because she was interested or because she was resorting to manipulation so she could get something from him later.
He was used to women giving him hints, making moves, and, if not initiating contact, then hinting heavily they wanted him to take that step.
But this was on a whole other level because every move she made caused a primal reaction inside of him.
"Let's just get you back with your group, and we'll go from there."
And later that night, he was going to find a nice she-wolf to take to his bed, because if Trisha was reminding him of anything, it was that he'd worked too many long hours lately and that he needed to get laid. A little desperately.
Without thinking, he reached out and picked off the little vines and blossoms that had gotten stuck around her horn, tossing them back into the garden where they could waste away and become fertilizer.
Trisha frowned when he did so.
"You wouldn't want weeds dropping off you and littering the halls."
"Oh, right, makes sense." She looked confused again, but he didn't ask about it. He just got her back to her group and went back to doing his job the way he was supposed to. By not showing special interest or favoritism to one person over another.
He couldn't wait for his shift to end, because he had to find someone to help him scratch a certain itch. There was no way he was getting something like that taken care of by anyone in his care.
No matter how much his wolf might be whining for it.
Shut up—stupid dog.
3
"What do you mean we can't get drunk?" Cindy sounded appropriately horrified, considering what Trisha had just told her.
They'd retired to their room after the day's activities. It was the same accommodations that the cadets got, a dorm that could be shared with another student of the Furry United New Person Whatever, Whatever.
God, these people really needed to think about what the acronyms for their facilities would be before they named their shit.
Not that Trisha could complain too much.
The dorm was nice, and she and Cindy had both been given the choice to have a double—just the two of them—or a quad, so they'd bunk with two others. They chose to have the smaller option.
While there were calls for lights out at ten o'clock—way too soon, in Trisha's opinion—it was much nicer than the dark, damp, cement cell she had been given to waste away in all by herself. This one had nicer furniture and cozy pillows, and so far, no one shut off the heat or cranked it too high. In fact, they were given free rein over the thermostat for their room too.
It was almost enough to make you think you might be living the university lifestyle, except the alcohol was missing.
"That is such bullshit," Cindy exclaimed, sitting cross-legged on her bed, hugging her largest pillow to her body. Her scales actually glowed a little—or it might have been a trick of the lamplight—before her expression changed to one of evil genius. "What if I poured some heavy booze into my bath next time? I could sink into the water and breathe the stuff in. I'd have to get drunk then!"
"That's a good idea if you want to be drinking the stuff you're swimming in."
Cindy shrugged. "People get gulps full of ocean and pool water all the time. Pool water has multiple people swimming in it."
"And chlorine," Trisha said, thinking about that for a hot minute. "And what about drinking ocean water? I'm pretty sure that would be an accident too."
"Yeah, a salty accident. You ever see pictures of whale dicks?"
"Don't say it."
"There's a reason why the water is salty." Cindy laughed maniacally at her own joke.
Even Trisha couldn't help but think it was a little funny, even as she groaned.
While she didn't exactly remember her old life, there were still bits of knowledge that came as second nature to her. The answers to some dad jokes and memes were definitely some of the things her brain supplied.
Everything else? Not so much.
Which was frustrating because, on the one hand, it felt as though the gates to her memories were wide open, letting all sorts of information flow through, but then, the instant she stepped beyond those gates to get more, there was some toll booth dickhead waiting to collect a fee she didn't have.
All this, combined with the fact that she struggled to sleep at night, left her feeling more than a little antsy.
Trisha had looked into it. Her shifter form—the one forced onto her by the lab—was a raccoon. Raccoons were technically nocturnal, so it could explain some of why she couldn't sleep, but raccoons also got a ton of stuff done during the day, which meant that sleeping at night shouldn't be a problem. It didn't urge her to prowl around and get into some mischief any less. It was the same as it had been back at the labs.
And here Trisha had just thought it was because of their shitty bedding that she couldn't sleep. It turned out that, even with comfy pillows and thick duvets, she was still screwed.
"You getting that itch again?"
Trisha, sitting much the same way Cindy was in her own bed, r
ocked back and forth a little, nodding and mindlessly rubbing her horn. "A little." The excitement of the morning, from failing at pickpocketing Warren to their little private chat in the yard, stirred up something inside of her. It made her want to get into a little bit of trouble.
And what better way to do that than to wander around the super-secret shifter base?
Everyone kept telling her that she wasn't a prisoner anymore, so if she felt like indulging herself, then what was the issue?
"Come with me?"
Cindy looked at her as though she’d lost her mind. "I don't know. I just got myself moisturized, and I'm still feeling pretty hydrated. I think I'll just sit back and watch you have all the fun."
Cindy had been working virtually with a water shifter, who'd been helping her to get used to living on land and not needing to spend most days in water. Moisturizing, hydration, and rest were high on her list of things to practice.
"Where is your sense of adventure? We are in a shifter base. We're in a place that people like us shouldn't be in. This place shouldn't even exist."
"Technically, we're in a training academy, not a shifter base."
Trisha waved off her friend, already pulling herself out of bed and getting ready to go on a little excursion. "Same difference. It's a super top-secret base out in the middle of Canada of all places, and they train shifters to become warriors. Or soldiers. Whatever it is that they're doing."
"Can't we have our fun during the daytime?"
"Uh, when the guards and staff are keeping an eye on us?" Trisha wasn't so sure what the problem was. Was Cindy really that nervous?
Or did the memories of what happened to them back at their actual prison still haunt her?
Much as Trisha wanted to hunt for something to do, she didn't want to upset Cindy. She certainly didn't want to make her friend go through the same thing she had in the cafeteria that morning.
It still bothered Trisha that she had had a panic attack earlier that day. And a panic attack in front of a guard, Warren of all people, made it that much worse.
She didn't want anyone thinking she was a delicate little flower, especially not Warren. Well, not unless it would be to her benefit, of course.
Yay. Something for her to talk about in her next therapy session…
"Why don't you stick around here then? I'll go, and you can be my backup."
"Backup for what?" Cindy asked, turning away from her and pouting a little bit. "We're supposed to be safe here, remember?"
Said like somebody who didn't believe it.
"I don't mean somebody who's going to fight for me. I already know that we're fine here." Even though she hadn't fully believed it when Warren caught her trying to steal from him. "I just mean more of a lookout. Yeah, that's the word I want. And you don't even have to do it all night. Just when I'm in view of this window."
Now Cindy's eyes widened, her lips parting just a little. "You're going outside?" Cindy shook her head. "They told us not to do that without supervision."
"They did," Trisha agreed, reaching up and scratching around her horn. "But we're not prisoners anymore, remember? In fact, this door isn't even locked from the outside."
Not that she knew that for sure. They didn't even know if they could leave their dorm room after hours. Sure, it was nice to be told that the doors would be locked from the inside whenever she and Cindy wanted privacy, but never from the outside. But to check this, to make absolutely sure that it was true, and to find out it wasn't, would be devastating.
She wouldn't let that speck of doubt show through, though. As if it meant nothing in the world to her, Trisha sauntered right up to the door, unlocked the deadbolt, inhaled a small breath, and grasped the handle.
It turned.
The door opened.
Her heart slammed and fluttered at the same time, as though it couldn't figure out what it wanted to do, and because of that, it made her head swim for just a second.
It was true. They weren't locked in.
Trisha turned back to Cindy with a quick spin, clasping her trembling hands behind her back. "See?"
"I...yes, I do," Cindy said, smiling at Trisha with a whole new kind of hope in her eyes.
Trisha was proud of herself, but she knew that this little display wouldn't be enough to make Cindy come out with her.
Everybody had their shit they had to deal with now that they were out of that lab, but as much as Trisha liked to pretend they were all fine, some people just hid it better than others, and some were always going to be a little more on the timid side.
"I'll come back soon. I'll see if I can snatch you something fun." She glanced back. Cindy smiled at her as she hopped out of bed and slowly closed the door behind Trisha, leaving her in the dark hallway.
She heard Cindy's voice from the other side of the door. "Stay safe." She sounded so small, and even though they were no longer in the lab, she also sounded a little afraid.
They were always going to be afraid.
There were some things they would carry with them for the rest of their lives.
But if Trisha wanted some semblance of normalcy, to at least not be dominated by fear, then she needed to do this. She needed to test how far her bravery went.
She had to have a success…especially considering that morning's fail.
She wouldn't let herself think about it…about how Warren grabbed her wrist, about how everyone saw, and especially about that shadowy memory…
So, she turned her mind to her exploration, to peeking in different doors and seeing if there were any goodies she could bring back for Cindy.
If these had been the damned lab rats back at her prison, then she wouldn't have had any issues with taking small tokens that were important to them. Pens with sentimental value, rings somebody took off so they could wash their hands, always small things that would annoy somebody when they were lost.
Her favorite thing to do was to flush them down the toilet or bury them whenever they were given time outdoors.
And by outdoors, they meant a square, walled-off area in the middle of the compound. Too high up to climb, with absolutely no view of anything but the sky.
Nothing at all like what they had at FUCN'A.
At the academy, being outside actually meant being outside, exercise and all, and she was allowed to wander whenever she wanted—within reason. They were still supervised—like that morning when it took almost no time for Warren to find her in the bushes—but it was better than nothing. She knew there was a team of FUC agents that was always observing them, studying their reactions and trying to figure out what their new inner animals could do, but, even so, it was so much better than their previous living conditions.
Trisha inhaled a deep breath through her nose, testing out some of the new training they'd gotten. She closed her eyes and really tasted the air around her. She could smell the other rescued experiments. She could smell the soap they were all using, and in some cases, she smelled fur. She also smelled clean walls and floors. She smelled wood. Lots of it, a smell very different than the concrete that had become familiar to her at the lab.
She crept down the stairwell and made it to the door that led outside. She hesitated, worried that opening it might trigger an alarm. No better time to test that theory than the present, she thought, before getting the nerve to push the metal bar that opened the door.
She heard a ca-chunk as the clunky door swung open for her, but no alarms—just silence.
In awe of her luck, she stepped out onto the grass, now smelling grass and flowers and all sorts of trees.
She was getting better at this. It was kind of impressive.
And it made her all the more eager to get into some mischief.
Hurriedly, she made her way around the building until she could make out the window to her dorm. Cindy was there and held up her hands to signal "all clear" to Trisha.
Which meant that no guard or other FUC person had shown up after she snuck out.
Trisha gave a thumbs-
up and then waved, letting Cindy know she could leave the window.
Which meant Trisha was now on her own.
She went back into the building, ready to find whatever it was the night would give her.
She focused on keeping her footsteps light. She hadn't triggered any alarms or brought the attention of authority figures who would tell her to return to bed, but that didn't mean she might not run into one.
Once she left the dorm area and made it to a new section of WANC—the Working and Administration Networking Core, which was the unfortunate name of the FUCN'A main building—she slowed down her pace and practically tiptoed around while checking which doors were locked and which ones were unlocked.
Most were locked. Figured. These people were running a school that was designed to teach shifters how to become badass warriors. Of course they'd prioritize security. She doubted they wanted the riffraff lab experiments getting access to anything explosive or sharp.
She thought about that for a moment… If she found something explosive, would she use it? She definitely wouldn't do anything to harm anyone, but boy, would it be fun to light up a trashcan in the cafeteria the next morning. That would show Warren a thing or two.
Warren…the momentary thought of him pushed aside all thoughts of thievery. Trisha wondered if he was staying on campus… She might have promised Cindy a souvenir, but a good friend wouldn't complain if she got sidetracked with other things, right?
Trisha bit her lip, her body warming up as she imagined creaking open the door to Warren's room, stripping off her clothes, and crawling into bed beside him. Sure, in reality, he would likely jump out of bed and holler at her, but in the fantasy, he pulled her to his naked body—because, in the fantasy, he slept nude, of course—kissed her, and let his hands roam from her breasts down to her WAP—wet-ass pussy.
She imagined reaching down and getting a handful of his cock—more than a handful. She bet it would take both hands to fully cover what Warren was packing. Oh, what she wouldn't give to taste him, to put him in her mouth and to have him tasting her at the same time.
