The Duality Paradigm (Blood & Bone Book One) by Lia Cooper

The Duality Paradigm (Blood & Bone Book One) by Lia Cooper

Author:Lia Cooper
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: urban fantasy, werewolf, gay romance, paranormal mystery, shifter romance, gay paranormal romance, gay werewolf romance, werewolf and human


They hadn’t really spoken to each other after the incident outside Ilan Maccabee’s house. Ethan had tried to follow Clanahan’s lead, avoiding eye contact, exchanging the barest minimum of words, all of it beautifully, painfully professional. Not that he quite knew the proper response to whatever… that had been. For a second, he’d thought Clanahan had intended to…

“To what Ethan, lay one on you? That guy? Christ. Get a hold of yourself,” Ethan muttered to himself, violently rummaging through his sock drawer in search of a clean, mostly unwrinkled, tie. “God damn it!”

“Problems?” Christophe slouched casually in the doorway, watching him, an amused curl to his lips. Ethan might have called it hovering, only Christophe did not do hovering, it was far too undignified a habit for Christophe Granger.

“Don’t even start with me right now.”

“You know, you’ve been in a rather unpleasant mood ever since you came home last night. Don’t tell me that delightful detective of yours did anything to hurt your feelings.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“Don’t be like that, darling.”

Ethan slammed his dresser drawer closed, something in the back made a sort of crunch and splintering sound. He was breathing a little unsteadily.

“I’m serious, Christophe, do me a favor, give me a break and go fuck yourself.” Behind him, the other man made a frustrated noise. Ethan could hear him moving away down the hall; for Christophe, it was practically stomping. The window in the kitchen went up on its track with a bang.

“Don’t break my apartment, you asshole,” Ethan hollered at him. He kicked over the pile of dirty laundry in his room and a rumpled maroon colored tie flopped out. Snorting, he flung it over his head and jerkily began tying it into a half-windsor. A thought struck him, “And don’t you dare start smoking again!”

“Your neighbors do it!” Christophe hollered back belligerently.

“I don’t care!” He adjusted the tie into position at the base of his throat and muttered, “The last thing I need is another second hand nicotine addiction.”

“You used to be a lot more fun.”

“I used to be nineteen too. Times change.”

“Don’t say that.”

Ethan cast him an arch look. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You talk like you’re old and dead already. You’re twenty-eight, for fucks sake.”

He froze, turned slowly, trying to watch the tone of his voice. “Chris?” The other man had reappeared in the doorway and was staring sort of longingly at the unlit fag in his hand. Ethan made himself continue, “This isn’t a mid-life crisis, is it?”

Christophe’s eyes widened and he looked up at Ethan in horror, his face pale, “You—take—I’m not having a fucking mid-life crisis, you asshole!” He turned, glaring at Ethan and the carpet and at his lighter and stomped back into the kitchen. “You deserve second hand cancer for that, you twat.”

He didn’t have time to chase Christophe down and continue the argument; he was running late already and his phone was buzzing across the night table.

“The Captain wants to talk to us.” A pause, then, “You better be on your way here.


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