“You’re imagining things.”
“You so were.” I grin like I’ve hit the jackpot.
He rolls his eyes, but I catch that almost smile again. “Just sing your damn song,Walker.”
I laugh, picking up where I left off, belting out the next line with exaggerated drama. And as the chorus hits again, I hearit once more, that almost imperceptible hum. It’s faint, but it’s there. And yeah, I’m pretty sure he’s doing it on purpose now.
By the time the song fades out, I’m grinning so hard my cheeks hurt.
Maybe there is something to like about this guy after all.
And thank fuck, because the rest of our lives would be miserable if there wasn’t.
Nicholas pulls the car to a stop in front of a rundown house in a neighborhood that screamsquestionable choices. I can feel him bristling even without looking at him. His fancy shoes and sleek suit don’t exactly blend in.
Oh well. He’ll survive.
“Where even are we?” he asks sharply, his eyes scanning the street like it might attack him.
“Told you.” I roll my eyes. “We’re getting a van.”
“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?”
