Page 119 of Gathered Sparkle

“Yeah, but I thought we’d go to a dealer or some shit.”

That makes me laugh. “A dealer? No dealer has the equipment we need.”

He jerks his chin toward the van already parked out front. It’s a beat-up white box that looks like it’s been through at least one apocalypse.

“Then what the hell is that?”

“A van. From a private seller,” I explain as if I’m talking to a five-year-old. “It’s got most of what I need. I’ll add the rest myself before the show.”

“And where, exactly, did you find thisprivate seller?” His voice is dripping with suspicion.

“Dark web.”

“Of fucking course.” He sighs, dragging a hand down his face.

We step out of the car, and his shoes crunch against the gravel. Already, he seems to be regretting every life choice that brought him here. Good. Builds character.

The front door opens, and out steps the guy. Short, beer belly, and wearing a shirt with some faded sports logo on it. He takes one look at us, his eyes widening. “Whoa. You guys tall as fuck, huh?”

“Hello—” Nicholas starts, but I cut him off. He’s way too polite for an exchange like this.

“Can we take a look inside?”

The guy shrugs and tosses the keys to me. “Sure thing. Knock yourselves out.”

I slide open the van door and hop in, ducking to avoid hitting my head. The inside smells of stale coffee and cheap cologne, but the equipment? Oh, it’s beautiful. Monitors, signal boosters, control pads.

This thing is a dream for flying drones and controlling illusions during the show. I’ll need to tweak a few systems and add some upgrades, but the foundation is solid. Alaric had his doubts about pulling off all the magic tricks on the street, but this van? This van makes it doable. Hell, it makes it genius.

I trail a hand over one of the control pads, grinning. And when the show’s done, and we need to make our escape? It’s the perfect getaway ride. No one’s going to suspect a plain white van. Not a billionaire-style getaway car, sure, but that’s exactly the point. No one will be looking for us in something this… pedestrian.

Of course, it does have the distinctfree candyvibes that make it look like it belongs in a suburban neighborhood’s worst nightmares, but after the chaos we’re about to unleash, I’m banking on people overlooking it.Hopefully.

Nicholas steps in behind me, glancing around like he’s trying to decide if he’s impressed or simply annoyed.

I size him up, giving him an exaggerated once-over. “What are you, five-foot-one?”

He raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “I’m six-foot-three.”

“Whatever you say,Short King.” I grin, making him huff a reluctant laugh. “This’ll work. It’s got everything I need.”

“That’s it?” he asks, crossing his arms.

“That’s it.”

“Why did I have to come?”

“To drive me here, obviously.”

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out, instantly grinning when I see a message from Sparkle. “Dreamgirl’s awake,” I announce, more to myself than Nicholas, but he’s watching me now, curiosity sparking in his otherwise grumpy expression.

I click on the video, and the van fills with the unmistakable sound of her breathless moans. The screen lights up with a shot of her fingers moving against her clit, her head tipping back as she murmurs my name like a prayer.

“Holy shit,” I whisper, leaning in closer to the screen like it might pull me through.

Nicholas, wide-eyed, mutters an equally stunned,“Fuck.”

Snapping out of it, I quickly shut off the screen, cutting the sound mid-moan. The abrupt silence feels almost obscene, but not half as much as Nicholas’s slack-jawed expression.

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