Forgotten in Darkness by Zoe Forward

I’m afraid that I cannot accompany you back to your room, no matter how beautiful you are or how much you bribe me with food.”
    Her cheeks flushed. “I meant what I said. Not interested.” Her eyes widened. “Crap.”
    Dakar spotted Kane striding up the block. “Is he your man?”
    “No. He is work related.”
    “I think he has spied both of us. Otherwise, I would volunteer to disappear.”
    Kane stomped up with an air of possession that reminded Dakar of a bonded magus. Dakar leaned against the wrought iron fence behind him.
    Kane demanded of Astrid, “What are you doing with him?”
    Astrid angled an eyebrow upward and made a little hand signal.
    Kane snorted. “I guarantee he is not a suspect. I already cleared him and his friends.”
    “You sure? I get a weird vibe. We may want to question him.”
    Kane pinched the bridge of his nose. “They’re an independent team from Europe tracking one of the missing kids.” He shot a beseeching glance at Dakar who interpreted it as play along.
    “He looks more like a contract merc to me than covert ops.”
    “They’re private contractors. But not mercs.”
    “Damn it, why didn’t you tell me they were in the area?”
    “I just figured it out. This group is known for, uh, hooking up with locals.” Kane pointed at Dakar. “She’s off limits to you.”
    “Is that because you have already staked a claim?” Dakar asked.
    Kane’s face lit up like a cooked lobster.
    Astrid stared wide-eyed at Kane, her surprise evident.
    Dakar chuckled. “My advice to you two is that this life is far too short not to, if the desire is there.”
    “We’ve never and we’re not,” Astrid declared.
    Dakar did a slight bow. “I thank you, Astrid, for providing me food. I shall not forget your kindness.” As he departed he overheard her whisper, “How the hell did he know my name?”

Chapter Six
    Durham, North Carolina
    “You sure you’re well enough to be back, Ms. McGinnis?” Professor Stephen Levin asked. He didn’t fit the stereotypical professorial mold. Even the reading glasses didn’t detract from his singular beauty. Although she knew he had to be much more than early fifties, he’d aged well. He was well manicured, tan, and not a strand of gray dared to threaten his blond head. Only the deep grooves around his mouth and eyes suggested age. Surrounding him were many photos of his triathlons. His pride and joy was his completion of the Hawaii Ironman with his partner, David, a few years ago.
    “I’m doing well enough.” Shay shifted in the chair that faced her advisor’s desk. Great , he used her last name. That meant he was about to get fatherly. They’d been on a first name basis since their initial meeting four years ago. His concern over her appearance must register high. She resisted the urge to smooth a hand over her newly plasticized face, and the bandage near her left ear.
    “What did you find in Cartagena?”
    Based on his squinty-eye contemplative stare, he wanted the full story of what had landed her in the coma. She didn’t plan to recite that tale, particularly since her memory was as holey as Swiss cheese. Patching together the pieces of what happened in the church had been difficult. The only reason she elected to brave the expected interrogation from him was for information. Info she knew was somewhere in his head. The problem was getting it from him. He was a wildly guarded man, especially when it came to myth, lore, and the weird.
    He waved at her body. “You look a little pale and you’re too thin. Maybe I should take you out for a cheeseburger.”
    “You try being in a coma for a month and living off IV food.” She’d been transferred from South America to the university hospital a little over a week ago. Doctors labeled her recovery miraculous, given that she’d been in a coma for almost four weeks in Cartagena. And woke up within twenty-four hours after transport.
    “How are you holding up?” he asked.
    “I’m fine.” Shay