“Gary wanted a few throwing knives. He’d been teaching his kids how to wield them, and one of them was hopeless at hitting the target.”

“So he thought an enchanted knife would help him.”

He nodded. “He figured it was a confidence thing. If the kid got used to hitting the target, his skill would naturally increase.”

“How much magic would it take to make one of these knives?”

He waved his hand. “He only wanted a small charm. I know a witch who occasionally works freelance with me. The trick is infusing the blade with power while it’s still being forged. Too much power and you’ll snap the blade.”

“How long would the charm last for?”

“A few months.”

I took a sip of water. This was a dead end. No one would’ve attacked Gary for a low-magic throwing knife.

“I wouldn’t have expected anyone to target old Gary,” David said. “He kept to himself, he did. Didn’t go sniffing around places where he shouldn’t.”

I raised one eyebrow. “And Merrill did?”

David snapped his mouth shut and I gave him a hard stare. “The man is dead. Anything you tell me could lead to whoever killed him.”

“My ‘Da had a saying… a gossip’s mouth is the devil’s postbag.”

“It’s not gossip if it could lead to a murderer.”

“I haven’t stayed alive all these years by poking my nose into other people’s business.”

I slid my gaze slowly down his body. “You’re carrying at least six knives— seven if you have one tucked in your boot. I’d bet that at least half of those knives are charmed. You can stay alive just fine.”

He gave me a wide grin. “I like you, girl. Okay, fine. Merrill had recently taken up with some of the more… morally destitute residents around here. I heard a rumor that he was in attendance at an auction he shouldn’t have gone near.”

“What kind of auction?”

He heaved a sigh. “Every Tuesday at the old train station.”

The old train station was a rehabilitated warehouse, built by the American Tobacco Company in the late eighteen hundreds. The building had stood for over a hundred and twenty years until the portals opened and a group of fleeing citizens used it for shelter. A pack of rampaging werewolves knocked down a wall, killed the humans, and then pulled up most of the tracks.

The building was falling to pieces and most people gave it a wide berth. A perfect place for an illegal auction.