Free Act of Surrender: An Immortal Ops World Novel (PSI-Ops / Immortal Ops Book 2) by Mandy M. Roth

are coming in for their once-a-decade meeting with PSI Divisions.”  
    “Och, they came last year for it,” said Striker. “Blood suckers are comin’ back.”
    “All the shit going down has the supernatural community scrambling to try to fix it,” added Boomer. “My guess, they’re as worried as the rest of us about it all. It affects them too.”
    The Fang Gang, as they’d been nicknamed over the centuries as they were all vampires, journeyed in to various PSI Division Headquarters once every ten years for meetings. They only made visits sooner if something really bad was happening.
    Coming back within a year meant the situation was dire.
    Since most of PSI was made up of shifters, the vampires’ arrival was always met with a healthy dose of ribbing and good intended humor on both sides. The year prior to James leaving PSI for his decade break, the Sentinels had shown up in a van marked Dog Groomers. They’d left gift bags on all the PSI guys’ desks. Inside the bags was flea dip, dog nail clippers and pet pee pads.
    Boomer ran a hand through his long, dark hair. “I got a shirt for you too. Says Vamps Suck . Striker got you one that says Team Edward . You pick which you want to wear. We’ll give Tut the other if he shows.”
    Malik “Tut” Nasser was on forced leave. James had yet to see Tut since James’s return to PSI. While James did miss the guy and wanted to reconnect, he understood what needing to take time for one’s self was like.
    “Which do you want?” asked Boomer. “ Suck or Team Edward ?”
    James shrugged, unsure what they were talking about. The only Edward he knew was a shifter out of the London division of PSI, and James wasn’t about to join his team of ops. The guy was a total douchebag, all whiny and overly dramatic. The type of supernatural who led the tortured-soul kind of life because he couldn’t man up and accept what he was. And the hair—the guy was always worried about it being just right. What kind of shifter worried more about his hair than he did anything else?
    No thank you.
    Duke Marlow, a fellow PSI-Ops and team member, entered the lab behind Striker and Boomer. His shirt said You are my Sunshine . Which was actually hilarious considering how very un-sunshiny the guy was. Duke’s personality ran more on the lines of crotchety old dude who looked forever locked at thirty-five but who would more than likely yell at kids to stay off his lawn. James knew Duke was only wearing the shirt to take a dig at the vampires. And if James was right, Duke’s wife had pressed him to wear it.
    Duke frowned at Boomer and Striker. “Aren’t you two supposed to be staying in my wife’s lab so she can oversee the effects of the sedative?”  
    “I’m doubting she could keep a handle on them,” said James, turning on his stool more. “They’re, and I quote, tipsy .”  
    Striker and Boomer swayed together and then began to rock back and forth in place, almost as if they were dancing. Duke walked around them, ignoring them as if their behavior was commonplace. It sort of was.  
    Duke’s onyx gaze went to James’s cane. “Still need that?”  
    James touched the top of the cane lightly. “When I’m on my feet too long, yes.   But I’m getting around without it now, for the most part.”
    “You should have healed by now,” Duke said bluntly, never one to pull punches or beat around the bush.
    “I know.”  
    Duke neared him and glanced at the microscope. “Figure out what they fuck they did to you?”  
    “No,” said James softly.  
    “Corbin asked me if you were ready for fieldwork,” added Duke. “I lied and said yes, but between us, I don’t think you’re ready for shit.”  
    “Tell me how you really feel,” replied James. He wasn’t surprised by Duke’s remarks. Had Duke come in and sugarcoated everything, James would have been shocked. Hearing it spelled out by a guy he’d known a hell of a long time made sense.
    Duke shrugged. “Hey, you know