Chapter Six
Irina’s cheeks heated as Malcolm opened the door and helped her out of his SUV. She sighed.
“What’s wrong?” Malcolm said, a concerned look on his face.
She nodded toward the hotel. “I’m embarrassed to have you see me at this place.” She laughed quietly. “Not everything to do with the ballet is so glamorous, especially in a newer company like the Angel. I’m worried about shattering your illusions.”
He snickered. “I work at a biker bar. I’m not one to complain about where you’re staying. I have to throw out drunks and idiots all the time.”
A light laugh escaped her mouth. “Then I won’t worry so much.”
Irina stared into his hazel eyes. Something about them captivated her so much. Her heart thumped. She barely knew the man. Granted, he’d bravely intervened in a deadly situation, but she couldn’t help but wonder if she were more attracted to what he represented than who he actually was.
She’d not sought out men during her time in America. Maybe she was looking for someone to fully wash the taint out of Yuri out of her heart. That was unfair to Malcolm, even if the way he’d looked at her more than a few times suggested he was attracted to her.
Malcolm took her hand and raised it to his lips. He kissed it lightly on the knuckles. Her heart thumped even harder at the gesture. Such gentleness from such a large and powerful man.
“I’ll give you a call, Irina,” Malcolm said. “Maybe we can go to a better place than just some random diner.”
She put a hand to her mouth and smiled behind it. “I look forward to it, my valiant knight.”
Malcolm grinned and swaggered back to his SUV. The dark-haired man certainly was rugged, but also handsome. Not to mention brave. Beyond brave.
He was also far more sensitive than what he tried to let on. She could tell from his face and their conversation. Malcolm was everything she wanted in a man. Strength, sensitivity, intelligence. He was everything good about Yuri but without any of the flaws.
Yes, he lacked Yuri’s wealth, but she’d already seen that money did not make for a comfortable existence.
Her short time with Malcolm had already washed the horror of the alley from her soul. She’d had a standout performance and met a nice man. Despite the mugging attempt, she couldn’t help but decide she’d had one of her best nights in a long while.
Irina let out a murmur of contentment, her heart filled with new possibilities.
She didn’t live in the area, so maybe they couldn’t have a relationship, but a few dates wouldn’t hurt. It’d be pleasant to date a nice, normal man, one who wasn’t so dangerous. A man who respected her as a person and not as an object to be owned. A man who was the opposite of Yuri.
She shivered at the thought of her ex-lover and rubbed her wrist. Again, she wondered if she was being unfair to Malcolm but let the thought slip away. It was a good night. No need to let worry take that from her.
Irina waved as Malcolm pulled away. She watched his SUV until it turned the corner then walked to her room.
She stopped in front of her door and looked around. The only thing left to make the night was perfect was avoiding a confrontation with Emma. It was her lucky night. Her dark-haired rival was nowhere to be seen. Maybe she was still at a bar getting drunk.
Irina hummed a few bars from the “Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy.” She frowned. Her door was ajar. She pushed it open. Her blood ran cold, and she gasped.
The dresser had been knocked over, the drawers pulled out, her clothing draped everywhere. The bedding lay on the floor, along with the trash can. Her suitcase lay on its side, parts of it sliced open, and its contents all over.
Someone had ransacked her room. One bitchy dark-haired woman was her chief suspect.
Irina sighed and shook her head. It’d been a too perfect night. She chided herself for believing she’d get away with so little trouble. Maybe God had punished her in her arrogance.
She stepped inside the room and slammed the door closed behind her. Each step made her doubt Emma was behind it, even if she would have almost preferred that to the other strong possibility. It could have been the other dancer, but that didn’t answer how she would have gotten into Irina’s room.
Being a bitch didn’t magically grant you the ability to open a locked door. But being a criminal would give you the skills needed, and being a successful criminal would also give you the money needed to bribe a desk attendant or a housekeeper.
Irina’s stomach knotted, dread filling her thoughts.
A quick check of her clothes and personal items showed that at least nothing was torn or missing. Whoever had done it seemed more concerned with scaring her than theft or destruction. That realization only made her pulse race faster.
There was one man she knew who would not want to destroy her pretty things but who also would want it clear that he was there. A man who liked to send messages.
She shook her head. No. Yuri couldn’t have come. She refused to believe it. He’d confront her in some obvious way, probably right after a performance. Slinking around at night wasn’t his style.
Irina let out another long sigh and headed into the bathroom. She needed to splash some water on her face and try to think over what she should do next. After one step into the bathroom, she flicked on the light. Her breathing picked up, and her heart started thundering.
A message had been crudely scrawled on the mirror using her lipstick in Russian.
Whore.
Irina put her hand to her chest and took several deep breaths. The evidence now slapped her out of her false hope. Yuri had not only been in town, he’d been in her room. And he was angry, very angry. Even when he’d hit her before, he’d never called her a whore.
Why? Malcolm? Yuri must have seen them together. He must have believed she was sleeping with Malcolm.
Irina started hyperventilating. Yuri would take her and drag her back to Moscow. He’d lock her in his forest dacha and never let her out, his little carnation, forever on display, her freedom gone forever.
“No, no, no,” she muttered. “I can’t go back. I won’t go back.”
Irina rushed over and dropped to check underneath the bed for the lockbox. The box was still there. Unlocking it, she swallowed.
The gun lay still inside. Irina stared at the weapon. Yuri had either missed it or left it as proof of his contempt for her. He didn’t fear she’d be able to seriously hurt him, even with a weapon. He might be right. Even having the gun now seemed silly and pointless.
No one could stop Yuri. No one human, anyway.
Irina pulled her phone out of her purse. She needed to call Malcolm and tell him she wasn’t interested. It wasn’t safe for her to be around other men. A brave man like her valiant knight would only get himself killed trying to protect her from a monster who had crossed an ocean to hunt her down.
Irina tapped her phone’s screen a few times, and her fingers hovered over Malcolm’s name in her contacts list. A few seconds later she sighed and dropped the phone back into her purse.
No. She could do this. Yuri hadn’t confronted her in public. She had at least one small advantage. They weren’t in Russia and far from Moscow and the seat of his power. His reach would be more limited. His kind could not so easily ask for aid in a foreign land.
Irina and Malcolm could just stick to public places. No matter how violent Yuri could be, he was a crafty man. He’d never do something in public to draw undue attention. Even he’d made it clear that he wasn’t above consequences from monsters more powerful than him.
“I’m a horrible, selfish girl,” Irina whispered to herself.
A dark laugh escaped her lips. That was the kind of thing Yuri always said to her. Maybe he’d been right. She’d been with him a long time. His corruption must have seeped into her.
Malcolm was brave, but he was just a normal man who worked at a bar. He was no match for Yuri. She doubted that whatever so-called bikers Malcolm dealt with were much of a threat.
Irina stared at the wall. No. She’d seen Yuri shot several times and barely flinch. She’d seen him turn into an animal in the blink of an eye.
No human could deal with a supernatural creature, let alone a violent, criminal supernatural creature.
She shouldn’t risk Malcolm getting involved, but she also couldn’t let him go. After so much darkness in her personal life, she’d already become addicted to the faintest rays of the sun.
Yuri had taken everything from her. Her freedom. Her virginity. Her light.
No. She wouldn’t let him take Malcolm, too. There were plenty of women still in Russia for Yuri.
“Screw you, Yuri,” Irina said. She followed with a giggle. It was so rare she even let herself think such things. “I am free.”
Free to date Malcolm. It might lead somewhere, or it might not. It didn’t matter, and the more time she spent with him, the less chance Yuri would be able to do something to her.
He’d get bored eventually. He’d have to. It wasn’t like he could spend months and months following her around America. It’s not like his criminal empire would run itself, and a creature like him couldn’t risk causing trouble in a foreign country.
Irina nodded to herself. She would just be careful. If she managed to get through the next few weeks, she’d be okay. She’d have to be.
As soon as she thought it, her hands started shaking. No. She wouldn’t be, but it didn’t matter. If her life or freedom were to come to an end, then she’d experience them to the fullest until the animal who walked as a man snatched and dragged her back to Russia.
Irina lifted the nightstand off the floor. She loaded the gun and placed it on top.
She had a lot of cleaning to get done, and she still needed to get a decent rest for tomorrow’s performance.
“I won’t let you intimidate me, Yuri,” she whispered.