Elijah felt his muscles unkink beneath the blisteringly hot stream of water. He hadn’t had a proper shower since he’d left Valosta, and even then, the water pressure had left a lot to be desired. However, the mansion’s water pressure was just fine, and though Elijah had come to judge the inhabitants of Mercer Mesa poorly, he certainly wasn’t above taking advantage of the luxuries they’d amassed.

Perhaps he could convince Nerthus to increase the temperature in his shower back home. Or better yet, he could get him to somehow create a hot tub. Maybe he could invite Delilah over. Or Jess. Or perhaps even K’hana, if he felt that adventurous.

Sighing, he realized that wasn’t going to happen. Not only was he aware that he’d most likely assigned far more importance to those meetings than was probably appropriate, he would come off a bit creepy if he suddenly popped back into their lives and invited them to see his cool hot tub.

Still, it was a nice fantasy.

Eventually, Elijah tired of the steaming hot shower and stepped out, refreshed and ready for whatever came next. So, he was a little surprised to find a woman standing in his room. Specifically, one of Barry’s daughters.

Victoria, if he remembered right.

Fortunately, Elijah had thought to wrap a towel around his waist, which preserved his modesty. For her part, Victoria seemed a bit disappointed about that last part, though that could very well have been Elijah’s own vanity intruding on the situation.

“Ah, father wanted me to invite you to supper,” she said in a chirping voice that was just on the edge of annoying. Her eyes played over the scars decorating his torso, then settled onto his right arm. That scarring had grown slightly less pronounced when he’d progressed to the Body of Stone stage of his cultivation, but it was also somehow more well-defined, and in a way Elijah couldn’t quite explain. It was as if the scarring was part of him, and though the marks had faded somewhat, the echo remained, drawing attention from anyone who laid eyes upon them.

Right now, that was Victoria.

And it made Elijah a little uncomfortable, so he cleared his throat and asked, “Are you going to keep staring while I get dressed? I don’t mind an audience. I’d just like to know if you’re expecting a show.”

“Depends on the show,” she said without a hint of propriety. It sounded silly in that comically high-pitched voice.

“I can moonwalk,” Elijah said. “Not well, but I can do it. When I was a kid, I could do the Macarena, too. But that gets kind of difficult without the song.”

“What?”

“It’s a dance. Popularized in the nineties. I know, that’s probably before your time. Before mine, too, if I’m honest. But my sister was into all sorts of older music, and she went through a…well, a phase. It wasn’t pretty, made even less so by the fact that her annoying little brother copied her dance moves,” Elijah admitted. “In my defense, though…well, I don’t have much of a defense, other than that I was a stupid kid. And later, a stupid teenager. A dumb twenty-something, too. Now that I think about it, revealing the depths of my stupidity is not the defense I thought it was.”

“What?” she repeated, cocking her head to the side. She also gave a little bounce that brought Elijah’s attention to the fact that she was still clad in a skimpy, yellow bikini, with only sheer wrap around her hips to preserve her modesty. Obviously, that was by design. Elijah had never been a lothario. In fact, he’d always been a bit awkward around women, but he’d participated in enough bar crawls to know when a woman was hitting on him.

However, Elijah wasn’t so foolish not to recognize her ulterior motives. He wasn’t bad looking, but he was no male model, either. And while he thought of himself as quite a catch, the chances of a beautiful girl he’d only just met throwing herself at him was a bit too far-fetched for him to accept. Especially when it was fairly obvious that she was only doing so at her father’s behest.

Maybe Barry had sent his daughter in the hopes that she could get her hooks into him. The man was savvy enough to know that Elijah was strong. And rich, given that he’d dropped two silver ethereum like it was nothing. No – Victoria was a ploy, and not one Elijah intended to fall for.

“You don’t have to do that, you know,” he said.

“Do what?”

“Act like you’re interested in me. I know you’re not,” he said, running his hand through his wet hair. “I mean, you’re beautiful. I won’t deny that. And I’m sure you’re perfectly pleasant. But whatever you have in mind here, it isn’t going to happen.”

“Ouch,” she said in a more normal tone of voice. “Haven’t been rejected like that in…well, in forever. Stings a little.”

Elijah said, “I got used to rejection a long time ago. My personality can be a bit grating. It used to be not so bad, but, well, years alone can kind of expose the edges, if you know what I mean. But it’s not you. It’s definitely me.”

“Again, ouch,” Victoria said, sitting on the bed. Elijah couldn’t tell if she was actually upset or if she was still playing a role. “Turned down by a barefoot man who carries a purse. If my friends knew…”

“It’s a satchel.”

“Huh?”

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“It’s not a purse. It’s a satchel. Indiana Jones carries one.”

“It looks like a purse to me. I mean, back before the world ended, men carrying purses was kind of coming into style, so I guess that’s okay. The material is a little odd, though. What is that, sharkskin?”

“It’s not a purse,” Elijah insisted, skating right over her question about the satchel’s composition. He didn’t think she wanted to hear that it was made from ghoul skin. Or servitor, he supposed. Either way, it was a bit gross, so he decided to keep that information to himself.

“Sure, sure. A satchel. Right,” she said with a sigh. Then, she flopped backward, exposing herself in all sorts of interesting ways. As she ran raised her hands to her head, she said, “Dad’s going to be disappointed. He wanted me to bring you into the fold, so to speak. You did something to impress him down there. Frankly, I don’t see it, but he’s a pretty good judge of character. Wait – where are you going?”

“To get dressed,” Elijah said, reaching down to grab the Ghoul-Hide Satchel, then his Cloak of the Iron Bear. Everything else was in the bag. Then, he disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. After that, he tossed everything onto the floor and splashed some cold water on his face.

That refocused him. A little. At least enough to get dressed in his cleanest set of clothes. The rest, he coated in Cleansing Powder before shoving everything back into his satchel. Once he’d settled his cloak over his shoulders and grabbed his staff, he opened the door. Thankfully, Victoria had given up by that point, which was both disappointing and a relief.

The woman made him uncomfortable, and not in a good way. She wasn’t really interested in him, so that made the whole exchange suspect.

Regardless, once Elijah was dressed, he headed out of the room and downstairs, where he found the entire family – and staff, it appeared – waiting for him.

“Ah, all cleaned up, I see!” Barry exclaimed with feigned exuberance. “We were just about to have supper. I have to apologize, though – we’re on a bit of a vegan diet these days. Courtesy of the Gardener.”

“I have meat,” he said. “Lots of it. I killed a boar just a couple of days ago, so I’ve got about a hundred pounds of pork in my satchel.”

Barry asked, “Uh…in your…satchel?”

“Or purse. Whatever. I’d be happy to share,” he said.

“Is it safe?” Barry asked.

That’s when Elijah realized that the objection wasn’t to the categorization of his bag. Rather, Barry was worried about food spoilage. So, he quickly disabused the man of that notion, telling him that his bag – as well as the wax paper he used to wrap it – had been created to prevent spoilage. It wasn’t perfect, but it extended the shelf life of raw meat by at least a few weeks. Normally, that was plenty for Elijah’s purposes, though he had to admit that he’d have rather pawned the snake off on them.

The meat wasn’t bad. It just wasn’t his favorite. Still, he wanted to make a good impression on his hosts, so when he was directed toward the kitchen – which was populated by more servants – he retrieved his wild boar meat and laid it on the counter. The cook, who was a large Pacific islander, was ecstatic for such a bounty, and he assured Elijah that he knew exactly how to prepare it. After having lived in Hawaii for a few years, Elijah had no doubts about that. So, once he’d asked if he could help – getting a firm no in response – Elijah returned to the house’s living area, where Barry handed him a glass containing expensive-smelling liquor.

“So, you’ve mentioned this Gardener a couple of times,” Elijah said. “Any chance I can meet them?”

“Her. And what’s your interest in her? She’s talented enough, but quite plain. Dirt always under her fingernails, smudges on her cheeks – she looks like the help,” Barry said haughtily. His wife, who was sitting beside him on the couch, elbowed him in the ribs. He grunted, then asked, “What? I’m only telling the truth. If she wanted people to take her more seriously, she would at least clean up a bit. Positively barbaric, the way she traipses around that little garden of hers.”

“It’s the size of a football field and ten stories tall, dad,” the other daughter, whose name Elijah couldn’t remember, said. She was practically a clone of her sister, though. Same perfect nose. Same delicate features. It was only when Elijah saw the pair together that he recognized the telltale signs of plastic surgery.

It wasn’t surprising, really. Lots of young women of a certain income bracket had gone down that route, and though Elijah had nothing against it, he’d never found that sort of artificialness to be attractive. However, it did beg the question of how all those changes would react under the effects of healing or body cultivation. For whatever reason, Elijah didn’t think they’d mix all that well.

“Mr. Eli?”

“Huh?” he said, realizing that he’d let his mind – all nine facets – wander. “Oh, sorry. My mind went a bit blank there for a second. Long day, I guess. What was the question?”

“I asked what your interest in horticulture is,” said Victoria.

“Mostly berry-related.”

“What?”

“Berries. You know, little fruits that grow on bushes. I grow them back home, and I’m always looking to improve the product. Also coffee trees, though those are berries, too. Or cherries, I guess. Either way, they’re close to maturity by this point,” he remarked, casting one facet of his mind back to his domain and seeing that the coffee trees were almost to the stage of bearing fruit. Which meant his coffee-making operation was about to take off. “My point is that I have agricultural interests, and I’d love to talk shop.”

Barry said, “I don’t see why we couldn’t make an introduction. After what you did today, it’s the least I could do.”

“Awesome,” Elijah said, thinking that his foray into what counted for high society after the apocalypse was going to bear some fruit.

After that, the family continued to pepper him with questions, and Elijah answered as vaguely or in as convoluted a manner as possible. Eventually, they started to lose the thread, so it was a good thing that dinner was soon served. The chef apologized that he hadn’t been able to slow-cook it, but Barry tersely said, “I’m sure you did your best, Marcus.”

Clearly, he didn’t mean it. In fact, it was meant as an insult, which rubbed Elijah the wrong way. That kind of followed the pattern he’d noticed since meeting Barry, and he’d long since begun to wonder if he’d made the right choice in saving the man. Still, he kept his mouth shut – mostly – as they settled in for the meal.

After everyone had eaten, Barry announced that it was time for a movie. Elijah was excited about it until he saw that the film chosen was The Wolf of Wall Street. It wasn’t a bad film – in fact, on every technical level, it was great – but he’d found that many people got all the wrong lessons from it.

Barry and his family definitely did, seeming to idolize the main character who’d defrauded thousands of people out of millions of dollars. But Elijah watched the film in silence, constantly shifting away from Victoria, who seemed incapable of taking no for an answer.

So, it was with no small degree of relief that he headed upstairs and went to bed. He made certain to lock the door, though. A good thing, too, because, via One with Nature, he felt Victoria’s presence when she tried to sneak into his room. She even had a key, which made his decision to block the door with a chair seem all the smarter.

After that, sleep was slow in coming, and when it did, it was much lighter than normal. So, when he woke the next morning, he wasn’t in a particularly good mood.