~Elara~
Every cell in my body screamed danger, but curiosity overrode caution. "I don't think so. I'd remember."
"Perhaps I've seen your work then. Are you in a creative field? You have the look."
I hesitated. Sharing personal information with a stranger who set off all my internal alarms seemed unwise, but refusing might seem suspicious. And if he was connected to Caleb's world—or my father's—this might be my chance to gather information.
"I'm a web designer," I offered. "Freelance."
"Ah, that might be it." He extended a hand. "Marcus Blackwood."
I shook it, noting the controlled strength in his grip. "Elara Winters."
A flicker of something—recognition?—crossed his face so quickly I might have imagined it. "Winters," he repeated. "Unusual name."
"Says Blackwood," I countered with
