“The bloodsucker?” Dominic spared him a glance. “He’ll be out for at least an hour. Someone will be along to retrieve him.”
“And the others from the auction?” His chest tightened as his thoughts strayed to Aerin. “There was a nixie, and—”
“Thierry and Chapel already got them out.”
Sammy took a deep breath and released it slowly. Then he laced his fingers through Dominic’s and allowed the wolf to lead him toward the remains of the door. Halfway across the room, however, he jerked to a stop again and spun around, his gaze going to the table by the fireplace.
“Wait. The relique.”
His mate pressed a kiss to his forehead, encouraging him without words to stay there while he retrieved the locket. He didn’t waste time with anything as mundane as walking. Instead, he jumped to the other side of the room, reappearing beside the table.
Grabbing the necklace, he clutched it in his fist and turned, his gaze going to the floor, to Valerie’s lifeless form.
“Your mother?” he asked, tone flat and his eyebrow raised.
Sammy followed his eyes. “Yes.”
“I’m sorry,colibrí.”
Unsure how to respond, he stayed quiet and nodded. Mostly, he didn’t feel anything about her death, and that apathy made him feel guilty, which in turn frustrated him.
So, yeah, he had a lot to work out when it came to that whole situation.
“Can you break it?” he asked instead. “The binding spell?”
Dominic held the locket up by its leather strap, examining the casing in the glint of the firelight. He shook his head.
Sammy’s heart sank.
“But you can.”
“Me?” He took a step back, physically distancing himself from the relique. “What are you saying? No. That’s not—I can’t—”
His mouth turned arid, and he licked his lips, trying and failing to force more words, to make Dominic understand.
“The caster is dead.” Dominic looked at Valerie again. Then his eyes shifted to Henri. “For all intents and purposes, so is the contract holder, at least temporarily.” Finally, he brought his attention back to Sammy. “That leaves you.”
Sammy shook his head, his mouth working furiously as it chewed on discarded arguments.
“You are the only one connected to the original spell still upright and breathing. Blood magic is powerful, but it needs an anchor.” He took Sammy by the wrist, turning his hand over and placing the locket in his palm. “Right now, that’s you.”
His hand twitched as he recoiled, but Dominic held him steady.
He expected the locket to feel heavier. Warmer. Maybe the sensation of static against his skin. Something to indicate it held the kind of power that had controlled his life for more than a decade.
But it was just a necklace, cheap costume jewelry that had been scratched and dented over the years.
“You can destroy it,” Dominic murmured. “This can all be over.”
He wanted that. Of course he did, but he shook his head again.
“I don’t know how.” Dragging his gaze away from the locket, he looked up at his mate. “I’m not a witch like my mom. I don’t have any magic.”
“But I do.” Dominic grinned roguishly, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “I’ll help you.” He stepped closer, guiding Sammy’s hand up between them, the locket still resting in his palm. “Just let it happen,” he said quietly. “Don’t think too hard about it.”
Sammy swallowed and closed his hand with reluctance, his fingertips brushing the satin ribbon braided around the edges ofthe casing. The metal pressed cool and unremarkable against his skin.
Nothing about it felt powerful. Nothing about it felt dangerous.