Darling - K. Ancrum Page 0,57

to the disgusted tension of Fyodor’s jaw or the clenching of Charles’s fists that accompanied their own fake smiles. Wendy felt more in tune with these people than with her friends back home as they worked together, synchronized as a well-oiled machine, to keep the mood up. Wendy hadn’t known solidarity like this before—and though she still didn’t know what was going on, she finally understood just how important it was to continue to keep in step.

They walked for nearly three miles, until the residential and commercial areas faded from bright lights and landscaping to unkempt gravel and boarded-up windows. Wendy could hear the party long before she could see it—its bass reverberating through the night air. The closer they got, the more people their age joined them in heading toward the huge warehouse at the end of the block.

A group of girls in glittery minidresses ran up behind them. One of them boldly slung her arm around Peter’s waist and surged up to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Nice to see you back, Peter,” she said sultrily.

Peter pushed her off with a friendly smack to her hip. “Go find some trouble somewhere else. Have a nice night, ladies.”

They dashed ahead to wait in line by the door.

Wendy felt sick. How many people did Peter know who had no idea who he really was? How many “special girls” had met him in the middle of the night?

As if reading Wendy’s thoughts, Peter turned to her and said, “I never encourage them, but if they need anything, I’m around. I carry headache meds and umbrellas and these little sticks you can use to make sure no one roofies your drink.”

“That’s … that’s nice,” Wendy said tentatively, glancing at Ominotago behind Peter’s back.

Ominotago shrugged but shook her head like she already knew this and it did not change her opinion of him at all.

Wendy trusted that look more than Peter’s explanation and kept silent as they joined the line.

Minsu licked a finger and smoothed down his eyebrows. Charles watched and nodded when he finished. Fyodor pinched his cheeks until they were softly pink and combed his hair back one last time. Wendy thought it was cute watching them primp like this, and judging from the look on Tinkerbelle’s face, she felt the same.

When they got to the front doors, the bouncers were tall and broad and did actually look a bit like Ominotago and Waatese. Wendy remembered Minsu mentioning that these were Ominotago, Curly, and Waatese’s cousins. They seemed college age, not actual adults, which was a surprise. Instead of forking over a few dollars, Tinkerbelle and Ominotago greeted the bouncers excitedly. The boys scooped them up into tight hugs and slapped Curly on the shoulder. They shook hands with Charles, Minsu, Fyodor, Nibs, and even Peter, though one of them couldn’t resist a tight-lipped frown at having to do so.

“This is Wendy,” Ominotago said, throwing an arm around her shoulders. “You haven’t met her yet, but she’s with us, too.”

The bouncers stamped everyone’s hands and opened the doors.

CHAPTER 12

The lights were off, but the inside of the warehouse could never have been described as dark. Aside from the music, which was as loud and bass-heavy as Wendy had assumed it would be, there were rainbow strobes placed strategically next to disco balls and hanging mirrors that threw flashes of colorful light all over the space, illuminating it like the inside of a kaleidoscope. The warehouse had one large bar in the very center of the first floor and two on opposite sides of the second floor, which was more of a mezzanine that overlooked the dance floor. The machinery had been pushed to the sides of the warehouse ground and walled off with velour drapery and police tape, so no one was able to get close enough to hurt themselves. There was a giant net stretched across the ceiling with tiny holes cut into it, from which tiny slivers of metallic confetti slowly fell as the music and general rowdiness shook the building. Scattered across the mezzanine were couches someone had clearly shipped over from the dump, and there were so many balloons on the ground that you could barely see your own feet. The DJ was set up on a platform of crates overlooking the crowd, and there were large neon signs for the exits and bathrooms. Wendy remembered what Minsu had said earlier—know all your exits—and was glad to see they were easy to find.

To be completely honest,