Chapter 560 - "Thank you for saving my life."

“We owe you, Contender,” Liang formally declared, gazing at the massive collection of canvas sacks and wooden crates absolutely filled with items both precious and mundane. “Both for the supplies, and the lives we need to make use of them.” He barked a chuckle with those words, as did a full dozen powerfully built cultivators radiating crimson arts, primal savagery, and dragon gates that twisted in strange, unexpected directions.

Eric couldn’t help but feel a certain fondness for these wild-looking men, wondering if, ultimately, he had far more in common with these folk than with the repressed orthodox cultivators in NanDushi proper.

“I’m just glad I was in a position to help both you and my shipmates,” Eric assured with a gentle nod for a still humbled but much relieved Vu, who had just finished clapping his back and calling him brother after Eric revealed the extent of what he had recovered from the man’s ship.

“Eric, my man. Brother of my heart. You saved us!”

“Damn right, he did!” Hai declared with relieved warmth in her gaze. “With these supplies recovered, at least the awful trip wasn’t for nothing.”

“Indeed it wasn’t,” Liang formally declared. “And considering what you lost… we will pay your opening bid for the supplies.” The package he solemnly handed Vu earned raised eyebrows.

“I assume you know how to discretely… good. I see that you do.” Liang flashed a hard smile. “Congratulations, Vu. You’re family has just become our major distributor. Prove yourself worthy and don’t fuck it up.”

“We won’t! Vu desperately declared, kneeling before the man and pressing the back of his palm to his brow. “I swear it!”

Liang crossed his arms before giving the youth a hard nod and Eric did his best not to care about the nature of that package. He didn’t really want to know, and he’d rather end this bittersweet day on the best note possible.

Not pass judgment on wildly potent and potentially perilous cultivation aids that might, or might not, be easily converted into highly addictive intoxicants.

He’d give everyone the benefit of the doubt, for now. Besides, just from what he had overheard today from multiple sources, he knew already that lowland cultivators here were pretty much screwed. So whatever worked to clean meridians—so long as people took the time to filter any resultant impurities—who was he to judge?

Still, if nothing else, perhaps the man and his formation assistant could answer a few questions.

Eric cleared his throat, taking in Osirian’s rough-hewn feature, his wild locks blown by the wind, now gazing so intently his way.

“You didn’t seem too pleased when you first sensed my arts.”

The wujen Osirian snorted. “Of course not, boy. You were hiding from us!”

Eric sighed at that, stealing a sidelong glance at his still awed-looking companions. “Yeah, I wanted to ask about that. It seems like cultivators are expected to announce themselves and stride boldly through life’s waters, here on Titan Prime.”

“Well, of course they are! If you’re not a spy or an assassin, you would never hide who you are, after showcasing such devastating power. Not when mortal peasants would flock to your service. Not when elites would be so very eager to fete you with wealth and honors and recruit you to their causes.”

Eric scowled, rubbing his temple. “What if you just want to live a normal life? And you don’t want to risk getting caught up in bullshit politics. Or maybe you just enjoy a quiet life with loved ones in the countryside?”

Osirian and Liang exchanged looks, something oddly like pity in their eyes.

“He truly knows nothing about how things work around here.”

“Not a thing.”

Eric sighed. “Yes. And that’s a problem. Can someone please tell me what I’m missing?”

Rachel of all people gave him the strangest of looks. “Eric, you truly don’t know?”

Hai gave an odd, tittering laugh. “He took down a sea titan. By himself! By rights, the city counsel should be holding a parade in his honor. If our righteous cultivation school was still open, he’d be feted as an esteemed master with rank and stipend!”

Vu sighed. “But as corrupt and jaded as the counsel is at present…”

“Perhaps it’s best that they not be looking your way,” Lena softly said, before paling at the looks this earned. “Think about it! He’s not from around here, and what if someone tries to manipulate him through his family?”

Vu glared at the thought. “No stomper would dare move against him. Not if they knew what he was really capable of.”

Hai squeezed his hand, now gazing intently at Eric. “That’s what happened with that stomper, right, Eric? After you name-dropped Malcom Tory.”

Rachel’s eyes widened. “That’s why…” She flushed, lowering her head. “I was afraid, with the look that my father was giving me last night, demanding that I humble myself and act the proper student… but you entered class just an hour late!” She winced. “Because Father really did send fixers after you.”

Eric smirked. “Nothing to worry about. Like I said, Malcom Tory and I have an understanding.

Those words earned snorts even from Master Liang and the ritualist Osirian. “The boy does get around.”

Osirian laughed aloud. “So, you actually managed to put Meriam in her place, when she’s so eager to make inroads with all the powers in the city. How’d you pull that off?”

Eric blinked. “Wait… so the girl wasn’t just a… oh, that’s clever. Malcom’s her front.”

“Correct,” Osirian said. “So, how the hell did you get her to back down?”

Eric shrugged. “Tore off the head of the stomper who threatened my family.”

He said it with a cheeky grin, but his eyes were hard as ice.

He ignored Rachel’s horrified blanch… the way Lena who had seemed so genuinely fascinated with him, a safe port in truly stormy seas, now stepped back and whimpered. Even Hai paled.

But he hadn’t said those words for their sake.

“Ha ha, boy’s a kidder,” Vu said with a forced smile.

Osirian held Eric’s pointed gaze for long seconds before barking a cold chuckle. “I don’t think he is, Vu. And I’m betting that asshole deserved it, and Meriam and Malcom will be keeping their boys far away from you and yours.”

Eric gave a cold nod. “I’m happy to play the hero, trade pointers, and make new friends all day long. But certain lines… we don’t cross those lines.”

“That’s why Guong Sai was so afraid of you!” Lena whispered, eyes like saucers. “You really did rip off—” she swallowed. “You weren’t bluffing about making a deal with Malcom Tory.”

Liang crossed his arms. “Normally, I’d be offended, boy. We owe you our lives. No way we’d ever come after you or yours.”

“Thank you for that,” Eric dipped his head. “I regret that it even needs to be said. But certain acts can paint targets on people’s backs, and this is the reason why I don’t particularly feel like flaunting my abilities before the world.”

Osirian “Well then, the solution to your problems is obvious, boy!”

Eric quirked an eyebrow. “And that would be?”

“Don’t show off your power.” Osirian held Eric’s gaze. “At all. So long as you don’t actively use your Qi, there is no need to declare yourself as a challenger eager to claim title and status, or a guest to be properly honored and feted. You’re not a spy using your arts to steel information or an assassin preparing to strike. You’re simply one of the many hidden powers desiring peace and serenity.”

Eric blinked. “So, wait... as long as I don’t use Qi abilities, I’m not breaking some legal code or cultivator custom if I keep my identity discrete?”

“Of course not!” Liang declared. “You think me and my men enter NanDushi proper in anything but business attire with our beards trimmed, blending in perfectly—”

“You guys hardly blended in, the last time you were in the city,” one of Vu’s cousins murmured. “The stompers just knew better than to fuck with you,”

“—blending in fucking perfectly!” Liang glared at the girl who whimpered and hid behind a sighing Vu. “And that’s okay, as long as we’re engaging in tourism and trade and not actively using our arts.”

Eric flashed a relieved smile. “That’s actually great to hear. So, no Qi abilities… what about casting spells only using Mana? Or, you know…” He ascended invisible steps. “Walking on air?”

Vu’s cousins gave him awed looks once more, never mind that they had seen him literally fighting for his life. Though come to think of it, with Battletime in play, things had happened so fast, maybe they hadn’t even been sure what, exactly, they had seen?”

“Guys a wujen.”

“It’s an elven power, right?”

“He’s flying! See? I told you he was flying!” A vindicated Lena said to Hai and Rachel who were crossing their arms and glaring at Eric.

“What?”

“You said it was a magic trick!”

Eric’s smile turned to a smirk as he made a deck of cards appear, burst into blue flames while spinning through the air, then vanish.

“Actually, I just implied it. I let you think what you liked.”

“You gaslit the fuck out of us!”

Eric chuckled. “Of that, I’m guilty.”

Rachel glared. “I’d be so pissed, if you weren’t so fucking handsome.”

“And if he wasn’t modeling for you,” Hai noted.

“True.”

“And if he hadn’t saved us all from becoming seafood! Literally!” Lena declared, before yelping as a massive wave of salt water splashed over the deck, the sea restless still.

Osirion gave Eric a pointed look, dispelling the water with a casual wave of his hand. “Yes, boy. If you’re floating around or using exotic runic arts more tied to blood than heavenly Qi, you’re still declaring yourself a cultivator to be respected, feared, and feted, no matter how unorthodox a practitioner you might be. As long as you’re not here to spy, assassinate, or overthrow the city counsel. Which I’m assuming you aren’t.”

Eric shook his head. “I’m not.”

Liang smirked. “You could title yourself a Contender, though some might take issue, since the gauntlet has not yet dropped.”

“Not like they can kick him off planet, strong as he is,” Osirion noted with a cold smile.

“True.”

“Okay, so powers are right out. But using my natural abilities to weave through traffic, or catch a train or study for a test… is that allowed without declaring myself?”

Vu dipped his head, showcasing a flicker of pride in his completely wrung out frame.

Eric knew the young body cultivator was still devastated by the loss of his ship, desperately hopeful that the trade agreement he had just reached with Liang would be enough to save him from whatever the consequences of the clan’s lost pleasure yacht would be. But more than anything else, he was probably grateful just to be alive. Yet here, finally, was something that he could take pride in.

“Yes, Eric. As was feted to us long ago, Body Cultivators cannot be put at a disadvantage to more spiritual cultivators. Especially not when their frames are enough of a declaration of their nature. And no scholar necessarily wants to be forced to reveal his clan’s most sacred techniques of mastering their mind palaces and perfect recall. So gifts of the body and intellect are cards we are permitted to hold close to your soul.”

Hai nodded. “Because every cultivator reserves the right to enter auction halls anonymously, so long as they aren’t using their abilities to attack or influence an auction. And a body cultivator can hardly control his Strength, nor should a sage be penalized, simply because his thoughts are organized and he recalls all the items up for auction.”

“Makes sense to me!” A beaming Eric declared.

Liang chuckled dryly. “Because you’re monstrously strong, and that’s one card you can always hold close to your vest, now?”

“No comment!” Eric then forced himself to truly take in the unguarded expressions of awe that half of Vu’s clan and at least some of the wild cultivators were still giving him.

He coughed, flashing a sheepish grin. “I don’t suppose, well… I don’t suppose there’s any way we can pretend that none of this ever happened?”

Vu spluttered at that, barking a laugh. “Are you serious, Eric? You’re a hero! Not even the NanDushi Council could deny you an audience now!”

Eric kept his smile firmly in place, deliberately not flashing his killing aura.

Yet still, the man paled.

“And how long before people wanting favors or leverage start bothering my family?” He gave the nonplussed Vu a pointed look. “And how likely is it that I’ll have any chance of attending Westwind without major crap being thrown my way?”

Liang chuckled coldly. “Yeah. The counsel being what it is now… you’re going to have all sorts of problems thrown at you in very short order. I’d bet my last silver that they’ll try to get you to leave back through the Prolus IV gate with your tail between your legs, however they can manage it, and I seriously doubt they’ll let you ascend up the highlands under any pretext.”

Rachel’s eyes widened in surprised outrage. “Wait… they wouldn’t even try to recruit him? Or honor him? Just crush him out of hand?”

“Correct. He’s stronger than any stomper, and too many factions are in contention for any one of them to be permitted to claim your boy as their champion.” Liang sighed, shaking his head. “And I see the look of fire in your eyes, no matter that you try to hide it, boy.”

Osirion grunted. “Three to one says the council hall’s awash in blood before the month is out.”

Liang shook his head, never mind Eric’s horrified expression. “We both know what happens when the gauntlet’s tossed, and the present batch of fools aping their betters sure as hell weren’t serving as counselors, the last time we were flooded with Contenders. No chance I’m taking that bet.”

Eric crossed his arms, trying not to be offended. “No, wait, hold up a minute. I’m not a psychopath, so no need to worry about me drowning everyone in rivers of blood. But even if I were, aren’t there like a million highland cultivators who could pulpify my arrogant ass?”

This earned cold chuckles from the cultivators. “You think those bloated fools are going to waste their time down here? Not a chance,” declared one of the aloof dozen or so that hadn’t bothered addressing him until now.

Liang nodded. “Voon’s right. The path most favor is one that allows orthodox cultivators to expand their Dantians to wondrous effect as they gather enough Spiritual Energy to form an actual Core with passive pressure alone. It’s also a path that eschews interaction with mortals and ‘lesser failures,’ as they put it, trapped here in the lowlands.”

Osirion smirked. “Which means that as long as you don’t dare ascend topside without their consent, no one of significance is going to bother with you, down here.”

“So long as you don’t utterly defy the natural order.”

“Or interfere with the flow of rice, of course.”

“Of course,” Eric solemnly concurred, thoughts racing, realizing there was a lot to unpack from what Osirion and Liang had so casually let slip.

Liang then turned to glare at Eric’s nonplussed acquaintances. “You fools all owe your lives to this lad, and he has asked for but the smallest of boons in return. Which means you all give your cultivator’s oaths to keep your lips sealed about the nature of our hero… or that there even was a hero.” He flashed a mirthless smile. “You can tell the world that the Black Sea Clan stopped the kraken themselves, if you like. Might help to shut up the city counsel and assure that no one tries to delegitimize us in the future.”

Vu traded looks with his friends and clansmen. All of them immediately bent down to one knee, hands over their hearts and on the platform itself, repeating the words Liang abruptly belted out that they repeated in odd sync.

Eric’s eyes widened in surprise to see a crimson sigil flare upon each of their brows that he could almost understand… but not quite.

Even upon Rachel’s forehead, from whom Eric had sensed potential, but wasn’t sure if she actively cultivated at all.

Osirion gave a satisfied nod, Eric only appreciating in that moment that they were all still in the formation circle that had protected Vu and his companions from the moment they had boarded the rig. And, if the shimmering glow of translucent fire surrounding them even now was anything to go by… was affecting them still.

“Good. None of you refused to give your word. And don’t worry, I took an extra step. So long as you all can keep your mouths shut tonight, tomorrow it will be effortless to keep those secrets close.”

Rachel’s eyes widened with dismay, even as she offhandedly rubbed the crimson sigil upon her brow. A mark that faded away in just seconds. “Oh no. Eric, the photoshoot! What about the shots we took of you looking absolutely perfect?”

Liang chuckled. “Guess those pictures will never be seeing the light of day.”

Eric’s scowl turned to a cheeky grin. “That’s okay. We’ll say it was special effects, just like in every decent action video ever.”

“Hell, that just might work, Eric.” Rachel pumped her fist. “legendware’s going to dominate the fashion circuit, just you wait!”

“And on that note, I think it’s about time we were off. Don’t you?” Eric waved grandly to his dingy, earning any number of concerned stares.

“Um… Eric?”

“What’s up, Vu?”

Vu looked at the shark bone and skin vessel and the wild, choppy waves many yards below the elevated platform. “Um… how exactly are we…”

He blinked when Eric grabbed a pair of thick cables of shark sinew.

“You squared things with Liang, right? Got yourself a nice fat profit?”

Vu somehow actually managed to look guilty.

Eric sighed. “Okay, clearly I’m taking you right to your estate. With that guilty mug, no way you’re getting past whatever passes for customs, around here.”

Vu swallowed. “Eric, how exactly are you going to even get us in the water, let alone…” his words died off in a surprised gasp, as he and everyone else found themselves seated in a dingy now a full foot above the platform, exactly in line with Eric’s feet.

Even the formerly smug Osirion was gazing at Eric with a look of wide-eyed disbelief. “How the hell are you doing that, boy?”

“Speed Racer and Aura of Dominion.”

The wujen scowled. “Those words don’t mean anything!”

“I know. Shall we, ladies and gents?”

Vu just blinked. “Eric, just what the hell do you…no!”

His final words broke off in a cry when Eric and his dingy began making their slow ascent. First at a jog… then at a sprint. Then going faster than the bullet trains racing across the continent as Eric stretched out his legs and raced away to the sound of a wujen’s surprised laughter behind them.

Eric turned back, allowing his hair to rustle in the breeze he barely felt, smiling at a blanching Vu choking back a scream. “Welcome to Eric Airlines! Don’t mind the shudders to the frame. None of you are going flying off with your seatbelts firmly in place.”

Rachel screamed. “Eric! Slimy tendrils are squeezing me!”

Eric nodded. “Yup. That’s your seatbelt. Now, which way are we going?”

“Back toward the club. We have tunnels leading to several warehouses in case we’re ever raided. Not that that should be something we have to worry about.” She glared at a guilty-looking Vu.

“Well, considering the cultivation-boosting contraband Vu clearly claimed… now you do,” Eric cheekily replied. “Alright. It’s clubbing time, I guess. Don’t mind the spray! I’m thinking low and close to the sea is the best way to avoid any eyes glaring our way. Save from up high, which hopefully don’t give two shits about us, anyway.”

Fortunately, Eric’s mental map at least included the places he had been to before, and after just a handful of minutes and a handful of sobs and screams and just a few peels of laughter, Eric and his friends were hovering over the crashing waves with a perfect view of the pier adjoining the club that was presently hosting a number of officious-looking men and women radiating the aura of stompers and the cold-eyed stares of unhappy coppers everywhere.

“Yeah… my Nose For Trouble and Know The Score perks might not be working here, but if they were, they would be blaring with warning lights, right about now. Because this is not the place that any Smooth Criminal wants to be.”

Rachel paled as she looked at her friends, more than a few of them gazing at the club with dismay. Anxious lips turned to a serious frown. “Why the hell are counsel investigators surrounding a Domini property?”

Vu groaned. “This day just keeps getting better and better.”

Eric sighed. “Okay. Backup plan. Where’s you’re pad, Vu? Or even better… a safehouse you all can hole up in until the heat dies down from whatever this is?”

Vu scowled.

Hai’s nervous lips pressed tightly together. “Vu…”

“Alright!” He curtly said, before his scowl turned to an apologetic grimace. “Sorry, it’s just that…”

“Family secrets. I get it.” Eric flashed a wry smile. “It looks like we all have cards we prefer to keep close to our chest. And that we’re all getting a look at each other’s hands, like it or not.”

This earned a strained chuckle. “Yeah. Isn’t that the truth. Alright, Eric, I don’t suppose you know how to get to Flushing Park?”

“Not a clue.”

“Wait, the solution’s obvious!” Rachel declared excitedly. “We’ll just head back to my clan’s modeling office. No one will think twice of us hanging out in one of the most exclusive districts in the city, or of us making some Qi-infused shoots to remember our adventures by!”

Hai scowled. “But what about our levimobiles, still parked at the club?”

Rachel winced. “Shit. That is a good point.”

Eric frowned. “Well maybe you all decided to take the L-line instead, assuming a station’s nearby?”

Vu frowned. “Why would anyone do that, when they’re connected enough to own levis and drive where they like?”

Eric blinked. “Drunk driving isn’t a thing, here? You guys were slamming down those seabreezes like there was no tomorrow. Maybe you were surprisingly responsible and wanted to do the right thing, and party safely in the city?”

His words earned a handful of surprised looks.

“He actually makes a good point.”

“The L-line’s just a block away. We get pedestrians all the time,” Rachel declared with a smile. “That could actually work.”

Eric nodded. “Sounds good. Now, we just need to get back to the modeling center. I take it there’s a roof entrance?”

“Well, yes. But why does that matter?”

Eric gazed up at the now glittering starry night sky. “Oh… nothing. You guys all still strapped in? Of course you are. Please try not to scream. Eric Airlines is taking off!”

“Eric, what are you—the fuck!?”

Eric chortled silently at the surprised shrieks that filled the air for just a heartbeat while he took off. And if a few counsel constables glared into the darkness, they saw nothing at all as Eric happily raced upon a perfectly solid plane of air just above the tallest nearby buildings, still in awe of his ability to assert just enough of his personal domain around himself that his rune-covered dingy/airplane hardly felt inertia or air resistance at all. But he wasn’t an idiot, nor cavalier enough to risk obliterating that which he was enjoying playing the hero to, so he kept his pace at a sane hundred or so miles per hour, as he had the whole time. And as sophisticated as NanDushi clearly was, the constant flood of admittedly much-reduced in the city but still abundant Spiritual Energy washing over everything meant that this city, tech friendly as it was, hadn’t become a surveillance state, so they made it to the roof of the Domini modeling outfit with no problem at all.

As far as the rest of the city was concerned, they were just a score of ragged-looking former party-goers relieved to be free of their rather secure seatbelts after what had been for most of them a bit more excitement than they had been expecting.

Even if a few did look a bit nonplussed by how rapidly their circumstances had changed.

“Wait! What just happened? We were just at the pier, about to be arrested, and now we’re in the heart of the city?”

Eric gazed pityingly at one of Vu’s cousins who looked on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

“Relax, Yana. It’s done. We’re safe!” Vu soothed, flashing Eric a grateful smile. “Thanks to our hero who has proven himself to be a true friend of our clan.”

Rachel gave a relieved smile. “Come on. Through the door here. Don’t worry, I have the key,” she assured, pointing to the hardwood door leading into the studio proper, Vu’s clansmen finding themselves on a rather posh-looking rooftop complete with sunning deck, drink table, and reclining chairs. All of it looked like quality outside furniture that could no doubt be quickly converted to the perfect setup for an outdoor shoot, or just appreciated as a rooftop retreat.

Vu and company were all too happy to enter the building proper and call an end to their ordeal, though Hai did favor Eric with a pointed look. “So, where did your exotic flying fish carpet go, Eric?”

Eric winked and snapped his fingers. “Magic.”

“Sure, Eric. Sure.”

“Come on!” Rachel gushed, squeezing Eric’s hand after a few quickly whispered words with a grateful Vu. “We have pictures to process!”

Eric smirked at that. “That’s your focus right now, our pictures?”

Rachel gave him an oddly strained smile. “Yes, Eric. Pictures and a note to myself that we had a special-effects shoot, but I had too many seabreezes, so I had to make sure I don’t forget that I have them saved.”

She smirked at Eric’s frown, squeezing his hand. “Come on, Eric. It won’t take more than a few minutes… assuming I can figure out how to use your treasure.”

Eric nodded gamely, allowing himself to be led down the ivory-tiled hallway into a room filled with electronics and a pair of what on Earth would have been a pair of old-fashioned led monitors, but here was most definitely cutting edge tech. The only thing more jarring than the mix of 80s, 90s, and 2000’s wires and retro tech, cables, and cords that Rachel was clearly quite comfortable with was that she actually managed to upload the pertinent files from a high tech tablet working in this realm only because of all the glowing crimson sigils covering it that Eric could tell Rachel was dying to ask him about.

Then he took a good look at the final product on display, suppressing the odd chill he felt shivering down his spine. “That’s just surreal.”

Rachel smirked. “Looks absolutely epic, doesn’t it?”

Eric scowled at the picture before him, noting the arrogant gaze of the powerfully built figure wearing form-fitting slacks, silk shirt, and rhinestone studded vest with a flaming sword held high with a Contender’s arrogance. A dead abomination was at his feet, and Rachel was wrapped in his arm, gazing up at him like one of Conan’s rescued damsels. And perhaps most disturbing was the sight of the remains of the massive kraken, its remains still bobbing in the obsidian-hued sea.

And just beside it was one of the modeling shoots of Eric wearing a sports jacket instead of a vest but otherwise dressed nearly the same, even if he did look like he had just stepped out of a salon.

One picture was that of a hero doing heroic things, the other an absurdly handsome corporate drone ready to face his day with style as he sprinted up the corporate ladder.

“Legendware. For the hero in all of us.” Eric smirked. “Okay, it’s catchy. I admit it. Though that’s a daring shot.”

“Damn right it is. And it’s a heroic shot. If anyone gets it, we’ll smile and say it was all part of the photoshoot and special effects, and haters are going to hate.”

Eric smirked. “Sure. So, what about Vu and our friends?”

Rachel squeezed his hand, playfully wrapping his arm around her shoulders as she teased him with the same adoring gaze just like the one in the shot that Hai had taken of the two of them back on the rig.

“Our friends will be relaxing in the rec room downstairs, and a few will be slipping out in pairs. Once they know that the safehouses and family compounds are safe, they’ll call the line and everyone else will head out a few at a time, and we’ll all touch base tomorrow.”

Eric gave a relieved nod. “Good. I guess that takes care of that, then. Or at least… it’s the best we can do for now.”

“It is. And you’ve earned Vu and his clan’s eternal gratitude, by the way. Hai and Lena’s clan also owe you a debt.”

She swallowed, gazing up at him through her silky dark bangs. Eric blinked, noting her horns, now glittering with a pair of sapphire jewel rings.

“And you’ve earned the lifelong gratitude of my clan as well, Eric. Or at least… me.”

Her cheeks flushed as she bit her lip, her soft fingers delicately reaching up to caress his brow. “I think it’s about time for that cultural exchange, Eric Carpenter. Don’t you?”

Eric’s heart began to pound. It took more self control than he thought it would for him to gently squeeze her hand… and step away.

“Rain check?”

“Sorry?”

Eric winced. “I… it’s late. Really late, Rachel. And I can only imagine how worried my foster parents are, right now. Since I’m still not really sure how phones work, and I really need to follow up on that. But right now, I need to get home and let them know that everything’s okay.”

Rachel stared at him for long moments, a handful of awkward emotions flickering across her features before she settled on a gentle smile. “You really do treat them as family, don’t you, Eric? Even though you said you’ve only been here for a handful of days.”

Eric flashed an apologetic smile. “And I have two foster sisters who, without me, have a hard time communicating at all.”

Rachel nodded. “Maja and Ella. I’m sure they’re worried about their big brother as well.”

Eric gave a relieved nod, glad she understood. “Exactly.”

Rachel smiled, handing him back his telpad. “Go, Eric. It’s alright. I’ll wrap things up here, and we’ll be selling our clothing line like fire and getting top marks in Klein’s class before you know it.”

Eric chuckled. “Sounds like a win to me.”

“Me too. And Eric?”

“Yeah?”

Rachel’s warm arms slipped around his neck, claiming him with a kiss fierce and sweet that Eric, with what was now a gloriously absurd 4022 Strength, didn’t fight nearly hard enough to resist.

“Thank you for saving my life.”