Darling - K. Ancrum Page 0,64

but Ominotago—observant as ever—caught her look.

“Since we can’t talk about the case in here, let’s talk about something lighter. I saw Fyodor putting the moves on you,” Ominotago said, smirking. “Glad that’s going well.”

“Moves?” Fyodor scrunched up his nose in distaste. “What moves? I was very respectful.”

“He was,” Wendy interjected even though she could feel her cheeks getting hot. “And he’s a very good dancer.”

“It’s very cool and not at all ridiculous how you can get girls even during the middle of a police sting,” Minsu snapped bitterly. “What’s the point? You don’t even sleep with them!”

Fyodor glanced at Wendy mischievously before answering Minsu’s remark. “I will let this thing you’ve said go because you are so frightened right now. But perhaps when you are less frightened, we will deal with this, da?”

“I’m not aphobic, it’s just unfair!” Minsu huffed. “ALL OF US are in ballroom dance. How are you the only one good at it?”

“Why are you in ballroom dance?” Wendy asked.

“Agility practice, for football,” Ominotago said, shaking out her dark hair. “And stop changing the subject.”

“You changed the subject first. Where the fuck is Peter?” Wendy snapped. She knew they were doing that thing again where they forcibly calmed her down with their charming, witty banter, and she was no longer interested in indulging that.

“We can’t talk about that. They’re watching us,” Tinkerbelle replied crossly, like Wendy was an idiot.

Ominotago clicked in the back of her throat with disapproval. “Be gentle with her, Tink, she doesn’t know how any of this works.” Ominotago addressed Wendy again. “I meant what I said earlier about getting you home, but under the circumstances, that is no longer possible. But they should be coming to get us soon, and they’ll explain everything.”

Wendy’s outburst had let the wind out of the sails for the entire room. The group broke off into their own quieter conversations. Charles and Minsu gave each other some sort of pep talk in the corner by the windowsill. Ominotago and Tinkerbelle whispered to each other, locked tight in each other’s arms. Nibs and Curly were speaking in that near-silent way they seemed to only do when incredibly stressed, their red and dark heads of hair pressed close together.

Fyodor sat silently next to Wendy. He had his eyes closed, and Wendy could see the purple veins above and below them.

Now that she wasn’t the focus of the entire group, she took the time to admire how his blond hair had begun falling out of his pompadour at the front. The handcuffs, which were tight on her, were probably even tighter on him. His arms, which had looked very nice when guarding the back of her head from getting smacked, looked even nicer bound behind his back. In all seriousness, Wendy wished very hard that Fyodor had been the first guy she’d met after moving here. He wouldn’t have broken into her house—he clearly didn’t do things like that. Maybe they would have met on the train, instead. Maybe they would have met while Wendy was on her way home from school. Maybe he would have caught her eye and introduced himself, but she would have ignored him until he said something so funny, she wouldn’t have been able to help but laugh. Fyodor would have understood why a strange girl would have been anxious talking to him or going out with him alone. A boy who asks before fixing the flowers in your hair wouldn’t think having another girl accompany them was enough to make Wendy feel safe. Fyodor would have waited for Eleanor to come with them—someone Wendy knew—or introduced himself to her parents, or something like that. He would have taken her to the party and nowhere else. He wouldn’t have abandoned her with scores of different groups of people, only swinging back to check on her as an afterthought. Fyodor, who’d saved her from getting hurt during a stampede instead of saving himself, wouldn’t do anything like that. He hadn’t even seemed like he wanted to be thanked for any of those things. He just did them because he felt like he should, and that was it.

Wendy followed the line of Fyodor’s arms from his cuffs back to his face, and his eyes were open now.

He gazed back at her steadily, uncritical of being appraised. Just watching her watch him.

The door of the waiting room opened, and two officers came in. Everyone stopped talking and watched warily as one of the officers hoisted Wendy off the couch.