Apart from a few bumps, scrapes, and burns, he had never experienced a major injury. He didn’t enjoy pain, nor did he relish the idea of testing his tolerance, but he wouldn’t even be considering it if the alternative wasn’t so much worse.
“It’s just a cut,” he reasoned. “I’ll heal.” Maybe not as quickly as Dominic, but faster than a human, and likely without medical intervention.
But his mate looked genuinely confused. “What are you talking about?”
“I have to bleed on a map or something, right?”
Dominic’s expression vacillated between incredulity and pity before settling somewhere around resignation. “You watch too many movies.”
A part of him wanted to be offended, but honestly, he couldn’t deny it. Despite having a witch for a mother, he knew little about magic outside of what he’d seen in fiction.
“We’re not looking for a lost shoe,” Dominic pressed on. “We’re talking about a talisman created from blood magic that is intrinsically connected to you. It would feel like being pulled in opposite directions.”
He tilted his head, a frown tugging at his mouth. It wouldn’t be pleasant, but it didn’t sound as dramatic as his mate had made it out to be.
“That doesn’t seem so bad.”
“By a freight train.”
“Oh.” His lips remained puckered as his voice died away, and a shiver ran through him when he imagined that kind of pain. “I wouldn’t actually be ripped in half, though, would I?”
While clearly unimpressed by the line of questioning—eyes narrowed, nostrils flared—Dominic shook his head. “No, you wouldn’t be physically pulled apart, but the spell does take a toll on the body.” Then, likely realizing where the conversation washeaded, he quickly added, “And there’s no guarantee it will even work.”
“Because of the muddiness?”
“Because you have to be conscious the whole time,” Dominic deadpanned.
They had moved so far beyond his point of reference he felt like they were speaking entirely different languages. Yet, despite the threat of pain and bodily harm, he hadn’t entirely abandoned the idea.
“How does it work?”
“Sammy.”
“I’m not trying to be difficult.” Though he could see why it felt that way. “I’m trying to understand.”
Dominic pinched the bridge of his nose, his entire being radiating exasperation. “Forget everything you think you know about magic.”
“I don’t know anything about magic.”
“Clearly,” the wolf muttered under his breath.
Sammy ducked his head to mask his grin. He supposed he deserved that.
“There is no map. No blood. No direct line from point A to point B.” He paused, but when Sammy didn’t interrupt with more questions, he continued. “When I use an object to locate someone, that object is the anchor. But doing it backwards—using a person to find an object—that makes the person the anchor.”
Sammy stared back at him blankly, not really understanding what any of it meant. In fact, it was starting to make his head hurt.
Something of his confusion must have shown on his face because Dominic sighed and rubbed a hand across the back of his neck.
“You know that the locket is a vessel for the blood magic, right?”
This time, Sammy nodded with more confidence. “Without the magic, it’s just a necklace.”
“With a locator spell, the anchor acts the same way as a vessel. It holds the magic.”
“Okay,” he said, dragging the word out as he turned the information over in his mind. “That means, if I become the anchor, I would be the one holding the magic?”
“Exactly.” Dominic’s eyes sparkled with pride, but his expression remained serious as he added, “And there are limits to how much magical force you can exert on a living being.”