The Vampires and Mages and Weres, Oh My! series

Excerpt...

Kyrian watched with keen interest as the high-strung agent practically shoved the potential buyer out the door. He couldn't stifle a chuckle as a strange wince of discomfort crossed the man's face.

Oooh, not nice, Kyrian. You'd better watch it. One of these days you're going to laugh at the wrong person.

It was his worst fault unfortunately, schadenfreude, which had caused him no end of trouble over the years. He just couldn't help laughing at inappropriate times. An automatic reaction to anything unusual.

His victim whipped around, and for a moment, Kyrian thought his day of reckoning had actually come. But the dangerous, feral glint in those dark eyes changed in quick succession to shock then something like distaste.

A born people-pleaser, Kyrian felt a stab of disappointment at the look of disdain. He glanced down at himself in reflex to check his appearance. Nothing obviously out of place. He was actually dressed fairly nicely for a day at home. Maybe the guy just didn't like shaggy hair. He was very clean-cut, bordering militaristic in his grooming, severely shaped almost black hair with a hint of wave to it above a smoothly shaven face.

A man's lips moved, and that's when Kyrian realised that Michael Franti and Spearhead were still happily Say Heying in his ear. He quickly pulled out the earpieces.

"Hi there. Sorry about laughing. I don't know why I did that."

Tall, Dark and Dangerous narrowed his eyes, apparently at the reminder of Kyrian's faux pas, and said something incomprehensible in a deep, almost gravelly voice. Ah ha, a foreigner.

"No comprende," he apologised.

His visitor actually rolled his eyes in disgust. At him! Kyrian would've jumped to his feet to tell him off if he didn't have the flipping cast on his ankle.

His visitor angrily spouted off more gibberish in whatever language he was speaking, and Kyrian rolled his own eyes in response, which apparently wasn't very well received since suddenly the man was looming threateningly over him. Trapped in the chaise lounge, at his mercy, Kyrian could only freeze and hope the man wouldn't get violent.

Holding out his hands in what he hoped was the universal symbol for wait a sec, he tried placating the aggressor. "Hey, hey, I'm sorry, okay? I. Don't. Understand. You," he enunciated. Using basic body language, he thumped his chest, shook his head, and tapped his temple as he tried Tarzan-esque simplicity. "Me no understand."

"Oh for fuck's sake!" The man threw up his hands as if Kyrian was the one acting like an idiot.

"Geez, why didn't you just speak English in the first place? That would be the logical language to start with considering the country we're in." Kyrian snarked as he tried to keep his lips from twitching into another inappropriate smile. The whole thing really was pretty funny in a weird way. "I'm Kyrian."

"Kyrian...?" the other man prompted.

Kyrian quirked his brow. Liked to get formal, did he? "De Angelo."

The other man winced and groaned, "Oh, that's fucking original," and shook his head with a huff.

What the heck? "Say buddy, where do you get off laughing at my name? And you haven't told me your name to make fun of."

"I'm Seth."

"Seth...?" Kyrian mocked Seth's earlier tone.

He shrugged with a deliberate smirk. "Just Seth."

Kyrian gasped with outrage and was about to attempt rising to confront him, cast or no cast, when Seth leaned closer to him and inhaled. No two ways about it--he sniffed him. Okay, this was getting a bit odd, even for him. He needed to nip this visit in the bud.

"Okay, just Seth." Kyrian watched warily as a contented look crossed the man's face for the first time, turning it into something serene and beautiful. "Thanks for visiting the house. Hope you liked it. Uh..."

Seth dropped to his knees, heavily lidded eyes locked on Kyrian's startled ones, and wasted no time in claiming a toe-curling, bone-melting kiss...