Cheon froze in the doorway. "Where's Rome? His message said—"
"I know what his message said." Mera held up a phone—Rome's phone. "I sent it."
"Why would you—"
"Because we need to establish some ground rules before things get complicated." Mera slid off the desk and approached Cheon with a predatory grace that reminded her of a cat stalking a mouse. "You tracked me down in the bathroom yesterday. You asked about Rome's ability. You said he drained twenty-three percent of your Essentia in four minutes."
Cheon's face burned. "That was a private conversation."
"Nothing about Rome is private to me." Mera stopped directly in front of Cheon, close enough that Cheon could smell her perfume—something warm and spicy, like cinnamon. "I know what happened in that storage room."
Cheon took an involuntary step backward. "Nothing happened."
