run-in with a ghost.
What. The. Fuck.
I lathered up my hair, rubbing my head gently since I was apparently mildly concussed.
Assuming that Babe got a hold of Dr. O, and assuming he thought this merited a "drop everything" attitude, I could expect my team to get into Providence in the next 24 hours. Thinking of them made me smile. Apart from Babe, they were the only family I had.
After my parents died and my aunt realized that she couldn't care for a part-vampire baby, she took me to Dr. O, who had been working with my dad. Dr. Lochlan O'Malley was in charge of Blood Ops, our unit of the top-secret government program. It fell under the purview of the Department of Defense. BO. No kidding.
Most Blood Ops members lived on an army base in the middle of the Nevada desert. That's where I was brought up, training for battle with all sorts of supernatural monsters and learning how to control my vampire instincts. I was "home schooled" by an elite team of educators, most of whom happened to be werewolves. Werewolves specifically were often extremely intelligent and had extraordinary discipline. Most other were creatures were as unruly as vampires.
Members of the Blood Ops unit watch for signs of supernatural crime. For example, most unsolved murders are usually the act of supernatural forces. But these cases don't necessarily go cold. Blood Ops investigates, and if the crime is supernatural, we dish out something closer to vigilante justice. Often a silver bullet, an incantation, or a stake takes care of the problem. Trial by jury and all that is impossible. The only way to restrain a rogue supernatural creature is to destroy it.
Did I stake a friend of Marcello's and now he's looking for revenge? No idea how he could connect it with me. Blood Ops members operate in the shadows, but then again, so do vampires like Marcello. The creatures we hunt are kind of aware we exist, but we are almost more like lore and legend then an actual, real threat. We are the fairy tales their maker’s told them to keep them in check, sort of the "scared straight" of the preternatural world. Most of our bad guys are genuinely surprised when we show up to take them down.
So I wasn’t convinced that Marcello had a beef with me because of my Blood Ops affiliation. But since it was where I spent the past 30 years of my life, what else could it be? I haven't been in Providence long enough to piss anyone off.
The Blood Op members that can mainstream, like myself, live among humans. I returned to my hometown of Providence, for instance, because it was turning into a hotbed of supernatural activity. That, and Babe wanted me to come home and help run the bar, which she co-owned with my mom. After Mom died, the bar became half mine. Moving to Providence was the first time I had ever lived away from the Blood Ops base since I was a baby. Weird that coming "home" was more like leaving home. I didn't really miss the desert, but I definitely missed my friends.
I tilted my head into the spray of the showerhead and rinsed my hair. The soapy water cascaded down my back. I picked up the bar of soap and began to lather my body.
I closed my eyes and for a split second imagined how Max's muscular arms would feel wrapped around my body.
Max was FBI. I was jarred back to reality. I wondered if that would make it harder or easier to hide Blood Ops from him. Relationships were complicated enough. I’d had a few one- nighters in my time, but I clocked more intimate time with my Rabbit vibrator than with a flesh-and-blood man.
A life like mine made it impossible to have any sort of relationship. It was hard to answer the "so what do you do" question. "Hunter of all things inexplicable" sounded a bit mad. "Blood Ops Agent" sounded absurd. And let's not even get into the vampire thing.
Relationships were definitely an issue.
I turned off the shower, grabbed a fluffy green towel off the rack and wrapped it around myself. Thinking about Max was way more fun than