Page 10 of Way of the Wolf

Mostof the stuff did. Whoever had dropped the keys must have long since replaced them.

“Possibly. There’s not a lot of really old metallic stuff in this part of the country, though I do occasionally find some gems among the detritus.” Duncan switched to an inside pocket in his leather jacket to withdraw a grimy quarter. “Look at this lovely. It was with some other coins in an old change purse I dug up. It’s from 1959. Any US dimes or quarters from before 1965 are ninety percent silver.”

“Does that mean it’s worth a lot?”

“It’s worth… something.” Duncan smiled lopsidedly and placed it in my now-dirty hands with the rest of the junk. “If memory serves, there’s a little under point-two troy ounces of silver in your old quarters.”

“Meaning I might be able to buy a soda at McDonald’s with this?”

“Maybe a sodaandfries.”

“You sure you don’t want to keep it?” I asked. “It’ll cost you acouple hundred to get your van out of impound after I have it towed.”

His eyebrows twitched, and he glanced toward my left hand. Noting the lack of a wedding ring?

I scowled at him. “My snark is not the reason I’m divorced, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Duncan lifted his hands. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Uh-huh. Why are you lurking around here, and what do youreallywant?” I pushed the junk in my hands toward him, signaling that he could return it, and the uber valuable quarter, to his pockets.

“I’ve mostly achieved my goal for the day.” He nodded toward the greenbelt. “It wasn’t as lucrative as I’d hoped. Sometimes, the areas like that by the freeway can have all manner of valuable scrap and even personal goods that flew off into the woods after wrecks or because someone chucked something out the window during a police chase.”

Why didn’t I believe him?

Because he was a shifty werewolf who smiled too much. Who’d ever heard of a lupine treasure hunter?

He took back the keys and bike lock, not appearing offended by my rejection. “I’d love to tell you all about it over dinner. May I take you out somewhere?”

“No.”

“Many women have found it fascinating to hear me regale them over a meal. Did I mention that I also magnet-fish?”

“No.”

“I’m an expert in locating all manner of things, mundane and even magical.”

I opened my mouth to deliver the third and, I hoped, finalnobut halted as a thought struck me.

If he could find magical things, might he be dialed into the paranormal world? More so than I was? Aside from taking mypotions faithfully, I’d spent my entire adult life trying to pretend such things didn’t exist. Trying to pass as a normal human woman. Might he know about otheralchemistsin the area?

“Where do you sell the magical items that you find?” I asked.

I doubted an alchemist would want rusty gewgaws, but if Duncan knew the paranormal equivalent of a pawn-shop owner, maybethatperson would know where potions could be bought and sold.

“Oh, all manner of places. The underground markets, direct to a handful of dealers I know around this and other countries, and even on eBay, though the fees and hecklers make online auction sites tedious to deal with. And thereviews. By the heavens, if you don’t properly insulate and promptly ship your imbued charms and talismans, buyers will pounce on you like WWF wrestlers springing from the ropes.”

I scratched my cheek, half-wondering if I could find a potion dealer on eBay. Or might there be some reputable online alchemist I could locate on my own? Maybe, but the idea of ingesting something magical made by a stranger from halfway across the country was unappealing. It wasn’t as if the FDA tested and vetted potions.

“Are you in the market for something? I know now that keys and bike locks don’t interest you.” Duncan smirked. “Strange lady.”

“Yeah,I’mthe strange one here.”

“Exceedingly. But I’m still willing to take you to dinner. After all, I crave high-stakes adventure.”

“Like dating women who think you’re a toad?”

“And who repeatedly threaten to have my vehicle towed, yes. I didn’t say it was ahealthycraving.”

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