The Edifice

36. The Creed Legacy

OLIVIA

I wake to a bed that's cold, but far from empty. To my left, Otis slumbers with his pale face to one side, more peaceful than I've ever seen him. The swirling patterns beneath his skin move slower now, flushing his cheeks blue in some unknown rhythm.

To my right... to my right is...

I sit up, rolling over to face the empty expanse of sheets behind me, the mattress now cold to the touch. The sudden yearning for Levi is so unexpectedly visceral that I slip out from under the blankets. I check the empty bathroom, creep out into the still and silent house below.

Dread has washed away the contentment of last night. What had I said to them?

The memories feel ancient to me. How upset Lee had been during truth or dare. How I had practically ignored Otis. What had I said?

Not to mention they'd run away downstairs for so long. Was it to laugh at me? To complain about how rude I've been, how stupid?

Then again, they'd both come upstairs, all animosity tossed aside and curled up beside me. If it's how things are done in the Edifice then I'm not complaining.

It had been the best night's sleep I've had in years. High as a kite and my body light as air, I'd be lying if I said I hadn't drifted off while lost in a very private fantasy.

It wouldn't have been a stretch, after all- with every inch of my back pressed up against Lee and every inch of him pressed against me in turn. Not to mention Otis, his legs twisted between mine and goosebump-inducing fingertips curled into my hips.

A nudge in either direction could have been the tipping point for any of us and I'd been trapped in that limbo of hesitation and desire.

"Olivia?"

I almost jump out of own skin in fright as the sound breaks through the otherwise empty house. Turning around, Otis hovers at the base of the stairs, barefaced in the mid morning sunlight. He's back to being his ethereal self, eyes shining white and haloed in light.

It's quite the sight, but not the reassuring presence I was hoping for. The knot of dread in my stomach tightens.

"Otis? Where's Lee?"

_

LEVI

I stand on my own front steps in the icy dawn and let my cigarette do its dirty work upon my body.

My phone had buzzed twice more throughout the night, jolting me out of my light sleep in the arms of my two companions. The same mysterious buyer from yesterday, texting back right when I needed them. Needed anyone, really, to snap me out of whatever the fuck had been going through my head last night.

Stupid fucking idiot.

The roar of a car engine interrupts my self-flagellation as the pick up arrives. It swerves with terrifying velocity to the kerb before me, hovering inches off the ground and for a second I'm distracted enough that I barely notice the butt of my cigarette singing my upper lip.

Jesus.

The vehicle is sleek as lightning and its blood-red coat shines as though it came here straight from the factory. I eye the glowing symbols that line the base where wheels should be. Spell-powered cars are the rarest, most expensive and least efficient cars you can find for sale these days. They're not worth the bother unless you have the money and the sheer power to run them, so given who I suspect owns this particular one, I'm not surprised to see it.

The back door pops open and I'm forced to fold myself into the rear seat, squashed beneath the low roof despite the otherwise roomy interior of grey leather.
The whiskey bottle 'Abraxes' had eventually requested is tucked beneath my jacket, neck poking me in the ribs until I tenderly remove it and survey my surroundings.