Dom had been drawn to sites of magic even before he had been turned. He had felt the energy thrum through his feet, drawn up in his hands, and now that he was turned it only made it seem even stronger in their pull.

It was how he'd ended up there in Glastonbury. The church was still working on overrunning the truth of this place but he could feel it.

It was what lead him to the well that night. His cloak was drawn about him, the hood up over his head and casting his face in shadows. He was barely visible in the dark shadows as he lay his hands on the edge of the pool that formed around the well, feeling the energy drawing up towards him through the stones and water.