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Cheri.”
    Cheri was one of the prisoners released from Nero’s compound and the last time I had seen her, she was nothing but a scant of a girl in dirty clothes with tangled blond hair.
    Why didn’t it ever occur to me? When Novis took her in, Adam’s nurturing personality would have won her over. I remembered how at ease he made me feel when we first met with his generous eyes and integrity.
    “Cheri, of course. It’s great to see you again. Your dress is beautiful.”
    “And you look…” Her gaze darted over my body.
    “Just between us, I was trying to make a point with someone and lost. I may just go sit in the car for the rest of the night. So, you’re dating Adam?”
    “Mmm,” she replied. “Quite the looker, isn’t he?”
    Cheri smiled when Adam appeared at her side with a glass of white wine. He stretched his arm over her head and leaned on it while she took a sip.
    “They just started bringing out the chow,” he said with a smirk. When he took her arm, Cheri pulled back.
    “No, you go ahead. Why don’t you fix me a plate and I’ll meet you in there. I need to take a walk and get some fresh air.” They shared a tender glance and Adam lifted her hand, gently placing a kiss on her knuckles.
    “I’ll be waiting,” he said and turned away.
    “It was nice to see you again, Cheri.” We smiled at each other as I brushed by. She waved and continued sipping her wine.
    “Silver,” a voice barked out. “Making your Ghuardian proud I see.”
    Through the opening to the study on my left was Merc—one of the Council members—setting his glass of wine on the white fireplace mantel.
    Each time I’d been in his presence, he made it clear that he didn’t like me. There was an unspoken animosity between him and Justus; the glances they exchanged made it obvious they despised one another.
    Merc stood there with his stringy light hair and beady little eyes pressed into a gladiator face. The dress shirt he wore looked painted on and the sleeves were rolled up, showing off the thick veins in his arms. This was a man voted least likely to have a political position by his fellow prison inmates.
    “What’s not to be proud of?” I challenged.
    “Tell me, did the homeless person put up much of a struggle when you robbed them of their attire?” He laughed along with a few curious spectators.
    My eyes narrowed into sharp slivers. Council member or no, this man was not about to stand there and publicly insult me.
    “You might want to give your parole officer a call before they report you missing.”
    A man snickered and Merc invaded my space with a step of his giant black shoe. I was never told the story behind his incarceration, but he didn’t know that.
    “You want to cozy up to the Grim Reaper? Your call, you worthless woman,” he said, lowering his voice. His fingers tugged at the ends of my hair. “Perhaps you need to be taught a lesson.”
    A thick body wedged between us.
    “Merc, keep in mind this is a social affair and we are all invited guests. Do not throw around your position here,” the man warned.
    The back of his hair was short, neatly groomed, and a reddish tint with blond highlights. He was spectacularly tall and when I saw Merc’s eyes flinch, I gave him a nice fuck you smile as he backed away and walked off.
    “He really is the prick he makes himself out to be,” the deep voice mumbled as he turned around.
    His features were mature and rugged with a broad chest and a thick jaw covered with a closely trimmed shadow of a beard. His broad mouth and large golden eyes were Cross trademarks, but he looked Irish. Deep lines were etched high on his cheeks near his eyes—a clear mark of a man who loved to laugh.
    “I’m Leo Cross.”
    “Logan talks about you all the time. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I stumbled over my words with our unexpected introduction and reached out to shake his hand. It was a clumsy human reaction and I quickly dropped my arm. Leo held a strong presence that