Darling - K. Ancrum Page 0,61

he took his phone back, swiped around, and handed it over to Wendy completely. He had opened his contacts and selected ADD NEW CONTACT.

Fyodor smirked and wiggled his eyebrow.

Wendy blushed, remembering that Ominotago had called him a flirt earlier in the night. She typed her number into his phone and handed it over.

Fyodor looked over at Peter and clapped his hand on Wendy’s shoulder in an overly friendly way, as if she were Charles or Minsu. From the tightening of the expression on Peter’s face, it didn’t seem to be working.

Peter leaned over to Curly and said something that made Curly look exasperated. Curly started marching toward the staircase like he’d been given an order.

Before Curly could come down the stairs, all the exits were kicked open, and police poured in. The warehouse filled with sirens so loud, they drowned out the music.

CHAPTER 13

Fyodor acted quickly. He yanked Wendy to the nearest drink table, pushed its cups away, lifted Wendy clean off the ground, and put her on the table just before the stampede began.

“PLEASE LEAVE THE BUILDING IN AN ORDERLY FASHION.”

No one was doing that at all. Fyodor was pushed aside violently as Wendy managed to scuttle to the middle of the table, and he was immediately carried away with the crowd. Everyone was running: girls barefoot with heels in hand, party- goers popping the balloons on the floor left and right. It didn’t sound quite like gunshots, but it was enough to make the crowd scream and flinch. The DJ yanked their cords midset and the music went off, leaving only the sounds of panic and the authoritative shouting of the Chicago Police Department.

Wendy looked up to the mezzanine, but Peter and the rest of the group were long gone. The police were staying at the perimeter of the warehouse, and, to Wendy’s surprise, were actually holding open the doors. They seemed more focused on everyone clearing the building than they were about arresting people or getting in the way of the rushing crowd. They must be waiting, Wendy thought dryly, until everyone gets outside to corral them into police vans.

Someone roughly bumped the table Wendy was on, and it banged against the back wall, its legs shuddering as if it were about to collapse. She held on and tried to sit as still as possible, and the shaking stopped. The warehouse was clearing fast, and police were pouring in to forcibly push people out. They were dressed almost like a SWAT team, which was a stark difference from the police who’d come to the few house parties Wendy had attended back home. Those cops had mostly looked like trumped-up security guards. This was an entirely different level, even more than what she’d seen at the train station. As the last of the partygoers scampered out the door, Wendy was seized by her arm and dragged off the table by an officer who pushed her toward the door without even saying anything to her. He was rough enough to get the message across wordlessly, so Wendy followed the last of the kids outside. She glanced behind her, just in time to see officers flip over a couch and tear into its cushions as they began to detail-search the building.

It was twice as bright outside as it had been when Wendy and the others had gone inside, and it was extremely crowded. The police had formed barriers around the whole building. They were checking IDs and letting people out in small groups. Some of them were pulling clearly intoxicated partygoers to the side to do breathalyzers and then bundling them into police vans. The rest seemed intent on searching the area, pushing people into lines for ID checks, and tamping down on rowdiness. Despite the massive police presence, the cops were significantly less violent than Wendy would have expected. This wasn’t a raid, this was a search party, and the crowd was mostly getting in the way. In fact, now that she was more aware of what was going on, she remembered the explosive police drama earlier slightly differently. The business of it all, the distracted but hawkish look in the officers’ eyes, the rush of patting down people and pushing away what looked like easy targets so they could continue their search. Wendy watched as the police let a girl who wasn’t completely sloshed, but still visibly drunk, out of the barricade.

Wendy walked across the gravel and joined the back of one of the ID lines. Hopefully they