“Didn’t hear ‘nothin,” a human woman in her fifties stuck out her chin. She’d introduced herself as Bettie, smiling welcomingly at me until the moment she realized I was in her store to ask about Merrill— and not as a paying customer.

I scanned her antique store, pointedly letting my gaze get stuck on the wide window which looked out onto the street— and directly across to Merrill’s store.

“Cameras?” I asked.

She shook her head and I just looked at her.

“Goblin,” she spat. “Why do you care?” Her gaze dropped to my arm. “Demon whore.”

“That’s real nice. How about you hand over your recording before the Mage Council gets an anonymous tip about a human dealing in magical items?” I jerked my head to a collection of brass lamps. “That looks like a djinn lamp to me.”

She spluttered. “I’m a god-fearing woman. That’s no genie lamp.”

I bared my teeth in a grin. “There will still be an investigation. Your store will be closed while the council checks it out. Hand over the footage and you’ll never have to see me again.”

Bettie decided it was in her best interest to give me the footage and I went on with my day. Short of threatening her with pain, she wasn’t going to tell me what she’d seen or heard, and torture was where I drew the line when it came to people who hadn’t actively harmed me.

Hopefully, we’d get more from the camera outside Bettie’s store than just the guy in the cloak. Frustration twisted like something alive in my gut. I was continually a step behind this guy. I didn’t know what he wanted and why, or who he planned to target next. Both Gary and Merrill were lesser unseelie. Was this a hate crime?

I made my way back to Merrill’s, searching fruitlessly for anything that could lead me in the right direction. In the back room, I pushed one of the shelves off the floor, cursing under my breath at its weight. When it was standing, I had a little more room to move, and I raised my eyebrows at the weapons strewn around.

The huge silver shield looked like a hex shield. That meant it could block magic attacks, bullets, and even a werewolf if the wielder was powerful enough. Merrill also had a collection of antique daggers which gleamed dully in the light, strewn near a long spear which was leaning against the back wall. All of the weapons looked old, powerful, and illegal. Merrill had taken up fencing stolen objects in his free time, and it had likely gotten him killed.

As much as I’d like to poke around and explore his weapons, I needed to get moving.

I took a step toward the door. Then I froze. Something shiny glinted on the ground and I crouched down and examined it.