"I'm sorry," he said, voice high with fear and disbelief. "I don't know… I don't know…why… I don't know…" He faltered into silence, trembling as he stared at Irina.
She waited for a surge of sympathy, but felt none. The competition judge had just tried tokillher, and if it hadn't been for Mick's extraordinary strength, his shifter secret, Hayes probably would have succeeded. "You need help," she said in a cold, shaking voice. "There's something wrong with you, hating non-Irish dancers the way you do. I doubt you'll get the help you need in jail, though."
"What?" Hayes shrieked, stumbling back a step. "Jail? Me? I can't go to jail!"
"Then you shouldn't have tried to kill someone," Mick rumbled. Irina, still in his arms, could feel the tension in his body, like he was keeping himself from launching himself at Hayes and teaching him a lesson the older man would never forget. His voice deepened even farther. "You shouldn't have tried to killmy girlfriend."
"Here now," somebody mumbled in protest, and Irina honestly couldn't help a shrill giggle that made Mick look down at her sharply.
"Well, they're right," she said, burying her face in his shoulder. "It's notreallyany worse for him to have tried to kill me than somebody else."
"It is to me," Mick said in a delicious deep dangerous voice. Irina, still shivering, held on tighter, and his arms were gentle even as he held her fiercely. "I'll never let anything happen to you," he promised into her hair. "Never."
"I know. I know. I'm safe with you. I know, Mick." Irina lifted her eyes, gazing up at him from so close. "I love you, Mick. You know that, right? Even though it's only been a minute?—"
Anything else she might have said was lost in a kiss as his mouth covered hers, tender, possessive, and wonderful. She was vaguely aware of a group-wide 'awwwww' from the people around them, and then in a while she became more aware that someone had called the police, and that Hayes was being taken away and that the cops wanted to talk to her, as well as everyone else who had witnessed the entire mess. A paramedic wanted to check Mick out, making sure he hadn't taken any damage from the weight of the lighting rig, and their gasp when they saw the bruising coming up on his shoulders made Irina's eyes fill with tears.
She had little to say to the police, it turned out. She'd thought one or more of the judges didn't like her, yes, but she hadn't imagined anybody might try to kill her. She didn't think it was premeditated, no, just that Hayes had seen the opportunity and taken it without thinking. "But yes," she said, voice getting cold again, "Iwillbe pressing charges, because he could have killed me, or hurt me so badly my career would be ended."
The police nodded and left her alone, and Irina fled back to Mick's side, hands fluttering against his shoulders. He smiled, catching her fingers to kiss their tips. "I'm fine," he promised in a murmur. "The bruising is feckin' awful, but I just need to getsomewhere private and shift a couple of times. It'll heal right up."
"That was incredible, you know," Irina whispered. "That you caught that thing at all."
"Good thing I'm a power lifter," he said with a tiny smile. "Everybody's taken that as the reason I could do it, but I'm pretty sure if I was a true human I'd have been flattened."
"Right now I'm incredibly grateful you'renota true human," Irina breathed. "I mean, I don't mind anyway, but under the circumstances…"
"Yeah. Yeah, I know." He folded her into his arms, holding her carefully, and Irina exhaled, suddenly exhausted to the bone. She could stand there forever, quiet and safe in Mick's arms, although after a few minutes she started to think going back to the hotel andsleepingin Mick's arms forever might be a better plan.
"I don't mean to interrupt this cozy scene," a woman's voice said, startling Irina out of her reverie. She straightened to see Fiona O'Rourke approaching with an expression that looked both smug and grim, which was quite a trick, Irina thought. She and Mick both turned their attention to the other dancer, who nodded a greeting now that she'd been acknowledged.
"I've loads of news," Fiona said. "Most of it's complicated. It turns out Hayes has been pressuring the other judges—no, pressure isn't the right word. Closer to blackmail, if I'm being honest. Bits of scandal from their own careers, that sort of shite. Anyway, he's manipulated the rankings. The competition's probably going to have to be struck from the records, because without doing it all over again with a clean slate of judges, there's no way to make any of the rankings fair."
Irina caught her breath, genuinely dismayed for the dancers who had done well. Before she could speak, though, Fiona lifted a hand to stop her. "It's going to take some time and effortand organization, obviously, but the impulse right now is to invite all of you back again next year to compete again. On the organization's dime, obviously, because there's not many of the dancers here who can afford the international trip again."
"That would be amazing," Irina said, nearly stricken speechless. Mick hugged her a little harder and she smiled up at him, mostly stunned. "I could come back," she said, testing out the idea.
"Well, c'mere to me now," Fiona said, drawing her attention again. "I said I had a lot of news, and that wasn't all of it."
Irina's heart lurched and she nodded tremulously. "Okay. Um. What else…?"
"I didn't just come to the competition tonight to support you," Fiona said. "After we met in the pub the other night, I looked up some of your other competitions online to show them to some people I know. Did I mention what it is I do?"
Irina shook her head, and even Mick rumbled a noise that suggested Fiona hadn't said any such thing. The other dancer was starting to smile now, and a wave of nervous excitement swept over Irina, though she didn't know why. "No," she managed. "No, you didn't say. Why? Whatdoyou do?"
"I'm a recruiter forRiverdance," Fiona said, "and we'd like to offer you a job."
Shock ran through Irina so hard she laughed right in Fiona's face, then clapped her hands over her own cheeks. Her knees wobbled, and Mick held onto her, a strong anchor she knew she could count on forever. "Oh my God, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to be rude, but—are you serious? You can't be serious?"
To her immense relief, Fiona grinned rather than taking offense. "Completely serious. You wouldn't be starting as a lead dancer, like?—"
"Oh, no!" Irina, hands still over her face, shook her head. "No, I wouldn't expect to, of course not, but—really?"
"There's a new European touring group starting in September," Fiona said. "We've most of the cast filled out already, but there are a few spots still open, and it's clear you've the skill and the talent for the job. And that you work well with others, which is nearly as important as the dancing itself, when you're part of a tour group. It'd be a big change, I know," the other woman said seriously. "So the company will understand if you need to take a few days to consider?—"
Irina blurted, "No! No, I don't have to consider—I'm going to have to let my family know, but—no, this is the opportunity of a lifetime. I want the job. If you're sure, I want it!"
Fiona beamed. "If you can come to Dublin on Monday, we'll have a chat about contracts, then. I'll text you the details. For now, enjoy the rest of your evening."
