Any cost, p.1
Any Cost, page 1
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
About Any Cost
Table of Content
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Epilogue
The Powers That Be
Dear Reader
Acknowledgments
Also by Hazel Domain
About the Author
Enjoy More Like This
Riptide Publishing
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Burnsville, NC 28714
www.riptidepublishing.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. All person(s) depicted on the cover are model(s) used for illustrative purposes only.
Any Cost
Copyright © 2024 by Hazel Domain
Cover art: Simoné
Editor: Rachel Haimowitz
Layout: L.C. Chase
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher, and where permitted by law. Reviewers may quote brief passages in a review. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Riptide Publishing at the mailing address above, at Riptidepublishing.com, or at marketing@riptidepublishing.com.
ISBN: 978-1-963773-08-8
First edition
September, 2024
Also available in paperback:
ISBN: 978-1-963773-03-3
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Sometimes people are more monstrous than the monsters.
Micah and Dominic have a new roommate. Gestalt—the last survivor of the Hellfires’ desperate attempt to cover their tracks—has the wings of a raven and the personality of a feral cat. Powerful magic binds him, with no counterspell to be found. Gestalt would never ask Dominic or Micah for help, if the life force shared through their psychic link weren’t the only thing keeping him alive. That said, he finds some of the glimpses through that link quite interesting.
Micah isn’t used to having people in his head. His relationships are performances, his behavior tailored to whatever his audience requires. If Dominic finds out, he’ll want to meet the real Micah—the man behind the mask. Too bad Micah doesn’t know how to play that role.
Dominic has problems of his own. As the range of the Hellfires’ empire is revealed, he realizes how many cracks exist in a system he’s always trusted. With the pillars of his faith crumbling by the day, and his feelings for Micah and Gestalt growing by the night, he’s forced to decide just how far outside the system he’s willing to work.
For Gertie, the beta who stayed.
About Any Cost
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Epilogue
Dear Reader
The Powers That Be
Acknowledgments
Also by Hazel Domain
About the Author
Enjoy More Like This
There were bad jobs, and then there were bad jobs.
There were jobs where you weren’t fast enough, where you missed something, where you couldn’t do anything, where you just plain fucked up. Those were bad.
And then there were jobs where you did everything right, and everything went to shit anyway. Where you spent the drive home looking for options that weren’t there, trying to fix what couldn’t be fixed.
In some ways, Dominic thought, those were the worst.
His dad had always known what to say. Knew how to talk around the problem, letting Dominic know it was okay. Or, at least, that it would be. It was a skill that Dominic had never really appreciated, until now.
Behind him, Gestalt shifted his wings.
“You okay back there?” Dom asked, not really expecting an answer and not getting one.
“I think he’s asleep,” Micah said without moving. He’d been driving in silence for the last hour, eyes never straying from the pavement ahead.
“How about you? Are you . . . okay?” Dominic couldn’t think of anything good to say because his brain was too busy coming up with terrible things like, That sure was a nightmarish amount of blood, or maybe Did you notice they used two silver bullets for everything? Even the slaves?
“I’m all right,” Micah said quietly, and Dom didn’t say, That’s good ’cause I’m unhinging a little, like his brain suggested.
“It’s okay to not be okay,” he said instead.
“I know.” Micah’s smile tried for reassuring and didn’t quite get there. “It’s been a long day.”
“Yeah,” Dominic said. He didn’t ask, Did you know that’s three thousand dollars just in silver?
Micah didn’t want to know that, he was pretty sure.
“How are you doing?” Micah asked before Dominic could come up with some other useless comment. “Any more side effects from the mana drain?”
“Nope, fit as a fiddle.” He gave Micah a winning grin, which Micah didn’t see. “Don’t worry too much. Getting your mana snacked on by a feral birdman is just part of the job for us controllers.”
Micah laughed, once, humoring him.
“You want to pick some music?” Dominic asked, because otherwise he was going to ask, And those were the people who held your contract?
Micah hummed noncommittally, and Dominic brought up the music app on his phone, selecting the first playlist and putting it on shuffle. “A Kind of Magic” came through the speakers, too low to hear clearly over the sound of the road. Neither of them turned it up.
“What do you think he eats?” Dominic asked.
“Who? Gestalt?”
Yes, because this was awkward and Dominic was going to fix it the same way he fixed everything awkward: by throwing food at it.
“Yeah, ’cause we’re gonna have to feed him and that’s gonna be a problem if he eats like, snails or metal shavings or Neosporin or something.”
“His body’s human,” Micah said, glancing behind him. “Wow, he’s really out.”
“His body’s human?” Dominic raised an eyebrow. “How do you know?”
“He’s what they were trying to summon, that time.” Micah’s affected nonchalance didn’t fool Dom for a second. “Pretty sure. On his wings, there’s these circles that look like the ones I saw . . . before.”
“Oh.” Dominic didn’t ask about before. Didn’t ask, Could that have been you down there?
He wasn’t sure he could handle the answer.
Gestalt didn’t wake up for the whole trip, not even when they stopped for gas. Not when they pulled onto Dominic’s gravel driveway and hit a pothole. Not when Dominic said, “Home sweet home,” and Micah said, “Hey, wake up.”
Gestalt didn’t stir until Micah climbed into the back seat with him and shook him by the shoulders.
Even then, all Micah got was a groan and a brief glimpse of eyes so washed out they looked gray. Gestalt reached for him, pressing his fingertips to Micah’s face, and Micah saw that light again.
The purple was barely a glow now, ashy and pale. The bright ribbon of Dominic was fraying at the edges, broken in places, and dulling even as he watched.
“What’s wrong with you?” Micah whispered.
Tell him I’m sorry, the angel replied. Without being told, Micah knew that speaking aloud was beyond him. I took too much a nd it still wasn’t enough.
“Micah?” Dominic said from outside the car. His voice was alarmed. “Is he okay?”
Micah stared at the creature. Beyond the fading light, his skin was turning pale and his lips had a tinge of blue. His wings were folded awkwardly on the seat behind him, and the tips of the feathers were turning a dull, chalky black.
He shook Gestalt again.
“Hey. No. No you don’t. Don’t you dare die on me.” Micah glanced back to Dom, then to Gestalt. “I’ll help you.”
Micah’s head was filled with Gestalt’s confusion, too nebulous to even register as words. A protest that Micah didn’t trust him. Micah didn’t like him. Micah didn’t want him there. Micah was angry for what he had done to Dominic. Dominic needed someone to survive that massacre. Dominic would help him.
“No, fuck you,” Micah snarled. “Stay away from him. You need something? You take it from me. Not him. Hear me? Take it from me.”
A bolt of alarm, and then the collar flashed blue.
Micah felt himself dissolving.
Dominic considered dragging them into the house, but they were big and heavy, and they’d be just as unconscious inside, so it wouldn’t really help anyway.
Gestalt was spread out across the back seat, his wings bunched up against the passenger door in a way that would probably leave them tingling when he woke up. And Micah, who had climbed in to try to wake him, had instead passed out on top of him. Micah’s head was lying on Gestalt’s bare chest, and one of the daiyura’s arms was lying over his shoulders. Their legs were tangled together, and Micah was beginning to drool.
Dominic took a photo.
He should be way more concerned. He knew that. Two people had been rendered unconscious during a supernatural lightshow in the back of his car; it was the sort of thing that should worry a guy.
But, somehow, he wasn’t. Kneeling on the front seat, his arms crossed on the seatback, he could see they were fine. Or rather, feel they were fine. He didn’t know how to explain it. Back at the manor, he’d felt he could trust Gestalt. And now, looking at the two of them, he felt they weren’t in danger.
It was like waking up and knowing he wasn’t alone. Even when Micah wasn’t touching him, Dominic could still feel him there—through body heat, or the sound of breathing, or some undefined sixth sense.
He felt that now.
Gestalt shifted, groaning softly, and blinked at Dominic in the light.
“Welcome back to the world of the living,” Dominic said softly. Micah was still out.
“He made me,” Gestalt protested, his hand tightening on Micah’s still shoulders. “I have his mark. He made me.”
Micah groaned. “Fuck, my head hurts,” he mumbled against Gestalt’s bare chest.
And then he must’ve realized he was mumbling against Gestalt’s bare chest, because he sat up fast enough to bang his head on the roof of the car.
“The fuck? Ow,” he complained, rubbing his scalp.
“You’re alive,” Gestalt breathed. The amazement on his face was reassuring to no one. “I tried not to— Do you have any idea what you almost did?”
Micah raised an eyebrow. “Uh, saved your life? You’re welcome?”
“You told me to take your mana, you imbecile,” Gestalt snapped. “Do you have any idea how many of you I could absorb and still not be back to full strength?”
“I figured you’d know I didn’t mean all of it,” Micah grumbled, trying to extricate himself from the tiny space.
“I knew,” Gestalt hissed. “The cuffs didn’t.”
“The wha— Oh. I forgot about that. Did that come across as an order?”
Gestalt gaped at him. “Yes.”
Dominic clapped his hands together, grinning. “Well, good on you for not sucking Micah’s soul out. And good on you for not letting the daiyura die in my car. Pats on the back all around. Who wants dinner?”
Micah kept his hand on the doorframe to steady himself as he stood. “How long were we out?”
“About twenty minutes. I figured I’d give it an hour and then start trying to wake you up for real.”
Micah rubbed his head. “Yeah, when you passed out back at the manor, it was about twenty minutes then too.”
Dominic went and hauled the duffel bags out of the trunk, slamming it with his elbow. Gestalt was having some trouble maneuvering his wings out of the car. Micah opened the door, catching him by the shoulders and hauling him to his feet before he could fall.
“Is that normal?” Dom asked. “Twenty minutes for an energy transfer?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never actually seen the bond used that way before.”
“So we were your guinea pigs?” Micah asked.
“Dominic was my guinea pig. You were acting as my captor,” Gestalt reminded him. He was stretching his wings out one at a time, giving them little shakes like he was trying to wake them up.
Micah scowled. “Yeah, thanks, glad to know you only gambled with his life.”
“I would think your distrust would mellow somewhat,” Gestalt said, “considering that I didn’t kill you even when you ordered me to.”
Dominic fumbled with his keys, passing the bags off to Micah as he picked the right key off the ring. “Casa Blackburn,” he announced, pushing the door open.
Gestalt looked around. “Micah led me to believe it was brighter,” he said after a moment.
“Not at dusk,” Dominic said cheerfully, kicking his boots off and honing in on the kitchen. “Gestalt, that door over there is your room, we’re down the hall. Are you guys not starving? I’m making burgers. With cheese.”
Gestalt curtly informed them that he didn’t eat and retreated into the guest room. Unlike Micah, he didn’t sit in the doorway. He shut the door and sat on the bed and stared angrily at the cuffs around his wrists.
Micah turned the stove burner on while Dominic made patties. He added oil and set the heat to medium so the oil wouldn’t splatter, and then he went into the room they shared. He came back out with a pair of Dominic’s pants and one of his own shirts. Dominic had just been thinking that the wider shoulders on Micah’s shirts might help accommodate the wings better.
“We’ll probably have to cut this or something to make it fit,” Micah said, crossing the room. “The pants should be okay though.”
Gestalt opened the door before Micah could even knock, surveying the man’s offering with a wrinkled nose.
“The blanket is insufficient?”
Micah looked taken aback. “I dunno, I just figured you might want pants.”
Gestalt narrowed his eyes, tilting his head at Micah. “Oh,” he said, realization dawning. “Yes. Because that’s what Dominic did for you. Yes. I accept.” He took the bundle of clothes and shut the door without further discussion.
Micah rolled his eyes toward Dominic. “How long do you think he’s gonna be staying here?”
“Have a little sympathy, Micah. He’s been through some fucked-up shit. You were weird too, when you first came here.”
Micah huffed and walked back into the kitchen. There were tomatoes and mushrooms in the fridge, and he began slicing them without being asked. Dominic dropped a patty onto a plate.
“You of all people know what Slate’s capable of. Can you blame him for not trusting us? For being desperate?”
“I can blame him for bleeding off your mana like a vampire.”
“Is that money still in the bathroom?”
Micah blinked. “What?”
“The four dollars and some-odd cents you said you hid in the bathroom. Is it still there?”
“I guess. I haven’t moved it.” Micah pushed the vegetables to the side and set to browning the buns. The oil in the pan was popping, and Micah added a shake of cumin.
“I think you should go get it,” Dominic said, sliding the rounded patties onto the pan.
Micah replaced the glass lid and vanished into the hallway. He was back a minute later, the money held tight in his hand.
It was obvious Micah was embarrassed about it. He held it out to Dominic like he was expecting the man to hit him, and Dominic sighed. “Keep it, Micah. It’s not about the money. It’s about trusting me. Do you?”
Micah nodded.
“But you didn’t then, and that’s why you took it.”
Micah nodded again, not looking up.
“So the two of you aren’t really that different.”
