PROJECT SONGBIRD ENTRY #297

Subjects 32 and 37 continue to demonstrate successful distribution of Compound-SB through their bites.

Subject 37 persists in ensnaring her sirelings, allowing full hormonal synchronization before subjecting them to prolonged, agonizing exsanguination, reducing them to husks. No observed progress in urge suppression. Neurological deterioration advances further into the ventromedial prefrontal cortex.

Deemed unstable for public release. Testing remains inconclusive. Subject 37 is to be placed in indefinite storage pending further developments.

This was a bad idea. A catastrophically stupid idea. And worse—I was the idiot who suggested it.

“This is a stealth operation. Can you please keep it down?” Atash muttered through clenched teeth as we moved through the abandoned subway tunnels.

“It’s not much of a stealth mission if 32 can sense me coming with my little sireling.” Wren’s whistling finally stopped, only to be replaced by the soft click of her boots as she skipped past us, then spun to walk backward in front of Atash. Her grin was all teeth, unnaturally wide lips stretched. “Nothing’s going to attack us here. I’m on top of the food chain.”

We had bribed her with a bigger cell—one with amenities, a call button for blood bags on demand, and three more cats. It had taken surprisingly little to convince her. She had no interest in the outside world; after years of being tested on and watched like a specimen, all she wanted was to be left alone. But sometimes, the way she spoke made me wonder if she despised Genesis even more than Bulwark’s CEO did.

At least she gave us an advantage. We didn’t need to call in another squad, which meant fewer humans would have to die because of Project Songbird.

“We still need silence,” Erebus said, their voice steady but sharp at the edges. Their patience was fraying. I couldn’t blame them. It was as though we took a child to work with us.

“Do you sense 32 yet?” Erebus asked.

“The range for tracking is better with Songbirds, but I don’t feel him yet. Not that I need to,” she said, her tone light, almost amused. “I already know where he is.”

“How?” I asked.

“Today is the birthday of Genesis’s founding father. They always hold a celebration at Marelli Manor.”

I stiffened. “It’s your father’s birthday?”

“Did I not mention that? Hm. Thought I did.” A grin pulled at her lips. “That’s why I chose tonight. 32 will be there. So will all the sirelings.”

My steps faltered. “So, you’re having us walk into an estate packed with Bloodfeds and Lycorises?”

She twirled on her heel, walking forward once more with an exaggerated flourish. “It’s a masquerade, little sireling.”

“Oh, great. Problem solved,” I said flatly.

She laughed. “It’s a stealth mission, isn’t it? We sneak in, lure 32 into a dark room, and then—” She snapped her teeth twice, sharp and deliberate.

“And if it doesn’t go that smoothly?” Ash asked.

She shrugged. “Then we kill a few stray vamps, finish off 32 and his sirelings, and the rest will fall in line. They always do. It’s in their nature to cower to power.”

“Now,” she said, stepping through the threshold of Eden’s gates as if she owned the place, “we need to go disguise shopping.”

We followed her, watching as she tilted her head toward the stone horizon of the underground city, as if seeing something we couldn’t. She led us through the dimly lit shopping district, weaving past civilian vampires and store signs, until we reached a boutique.

The door chimed as we stepped inside. Mannequins stood like silent sentinels, draped in fabric. One wall was lined with bolts of cloth, the other with racks of carefully arranged garments. No overhead lights—just darkness, thick and undisturbed. Not even the low courtesy glow that the blood banks offered in case humans wandered below. 

“Welcome. Is there anythi—” The vampire behind the counter froze, her voice catching as she took us in. Her gaze lingered too long.

“Bulwark hunters,” she said, her tone shifting. “What do I owe the visit for?”

Wren didn’t give her the chance to think, let alone react. She crossed the room in a blink, claws sinking into the vampire’s skull before slamming her face against the counter. Bone cracked. The vampire’s body spasmed, her mouth opening in a silent snarl—just before Wren’s fangs tore into the back of her neck.

Two shots rang out through the room. A flash of ultraviolet light, then a burst of ash.

Erebus’s breath came sharp through their teeth. “Who gave her a stake?” They stalked toward Wren, hand outstretched.

I checked my belt. One of my stakes was gone.

“We don’t kill unless they attack first,” Erebus said, voice low but edged as they took the stake back.

Wren licked the foul blood from her lips, unimpressed. “You would rather we lie? She never would’ve believed us. She would’ve caused a scene. And with IDUN’s guard dogs crawling around, that’s the last thing we need.”

Silence settled over the room, but I caught the tight clench of Erebus’s jaw. I’d never seen them this irritated before—probably because protocol was being shredded, because they were responsible for Wren on this mission, but mostly because… Wren was right.

“You hunters want low casualties? Then stop second-guessing me,” she said. “You might be Captain of this little ragtag team”—her fingers tapped against Erebus’s vest—“but I’m the asset here. Follow my plan if you want this mission to succeed.”

Erebus grabbed her wrist, pulling her arm away. “Then start sharing that plan. A team works efficiently when everyone knows what to expect. Quit withholding information, 37.”

Wren rolled her eyes but relented, hopping onto the counter and crossing her legs. “Fine. You want the plan? From the rooftop of this building, you’ll have a direct line of sight to the northeast side of the estate. Fourth floor, second window from the back—that’s an office. Captain, if that light turns on, radio one of these two. Inside that office is a lockdown switch for the entire building. Also, if we signal you, you’ll need to drop down, break into the window below it, and probably back up the other human.” She gestured toward Atash. “That’s where I’ll lure 32 into.”

“Any other questions?”

“Yeah,” Ash said. “What exactly are Kieran and I supposed to do?”

“You two will accompany me as guests to the party. Play meat shield or distraction until the capable one”—she nodded toward Erebus—“comes back to us.”

“So we infiltrate, locate 32, isolate him, take him out, and leave,” I summarized.

“There we go, all on the same page.” Wren clapped her hands, hopping off the counter. “Now, find something decent to wear boys.”

“And I thought you were bossy,” Ash muttered as we moved toward the suits. “And a dick.”

“Are you turned on now?”

“I’m always turned on when you’re around.” He flicked a finger against the tip of my ear, grinning.

I pressed my lips into a thin line and shoved a suit at him. “These should fit.” I wouldn’t admit it, but I remembered his size from when he lent me his clothes.

We changed quickly, keeping our vests underneath, weapons concealed beneath our jackets. As I tightened my tie, my fingers moved on their own—muscle memory from when my father first taught me how to do this. Five years. That’s how long it had been since I last saw my parents. Flights now cost as much as houses, and communication was nonexistent.

I missed cell phones.

When Genesis went public, everything shut down—Internet, calls, television. The government claimed it was a security measure, but we all knew the truth. It was about control. Keeping us isolated.

A sigh from Ash pulled me back. He was fumbling with his tie, fingers tangling uselessly in the fabric. I stepped over, brushing his hands aside to undo the mess. His pulse spiked the second my fingers touched him. I glanced up. His eyes were soft, but the slight curve of his lips carried mischief.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” I muttered, turning my focus back to the tie.

“Just thinking.” Ash leaned in, his lips just brushing past my jaw, breath warm against my ear. “Last time you were this close, you had your hand on my dick.”

Heat crawled up my neck. I yanked his tie tighter. He let out an exaggerated choking sound, then laughed.

“Sometimes I think you forget we’re dating.”

“You can still sexually harass your boyfriend at work,” I muttered.

“Is that so?” His head tilted, the teasing in his expression softening into something quieter, something that made my pulse stutter. My fingers firmly pulled on his tie, pulling him closer to me. I pressed my lips to his. He responded instantly, hands settling at my hips, pulling me in.

His tongue slid past my lips, and heat coiled low, my cock already beginning to harden in my pants. I let my teeth press, just barely, against the intrusion before pulling back. “Don’t push it.” My voice came out rougher than I intended.

Ash chuckled, his hand catching my jaw to hold me still as he leaned back in for a quick kiss. “Can’t help it. You get me going, Kieran.”

“Is it safe to come in?” Wren’s voice cut through the moment. “I can hear the elevated heartbeats and heavy breathing.” She stepped into the room, a hand barely covering her eyes, grin wide and shameless.

She stepped closer, pressing a black mask into my hand. It covered the upper half of my face, thin mesh over the eye holes for added concealment. She slid an identical one over her own face, then handed Ash a white oval mask.

“Why is mine different?” He turned it over in his hands, frowning.

“I forgot to mention—humans attend events such as these. But they’re… appetizers.” She said it casually, like it was a simple fact.

Ash stiffened. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Life Donors sign contracts with IDUN to donate blood. What they don’t realize is that the contract doesn’t just extend to sleeping in a pod.”

My jaw tightened. “Why are we just hearing about this?”

“Because they don’t remember.” She shrugged. “They’re drugged—a cocktail of sedatives, dissociatives, hypnotics. Keeps them in a sleepwalking state. Can’t remember what you weren’t conscious enough to even witness, y’know.”

Her fingers toyed with Ash’s mask before lifting it toward his face. “You, my beautiful brute, get to play the role of a numb little treat. Plenty will want a bite of you. So much blood in this vessel.” Her hand moved toward his neck.

I caught her wrist before she could touch him. “Don’t.” My fangs bared before I could stop them.

She didn’t flinch, just smiled. “Relax. I was marking him as reserved. Unless, of course, you’d rather let someone else sink their teeth in him?”

I let go, reluctant. In a flash, she scratched his skin with a claw. Atash hissed softly, hand flying to his neck. The scent of his blood hit the air.

I stepped between them, fingers tilting his chin so I could inspect it. An X was etched into his skin. Clean, shallow.

“There.” Wren purred. “Now no one will touch him. They’ll think he’s already claimed.”

Ash met my gaze, something amused lurking in his eyes. “I mean technically I am,” he murmured, then mouthed, I’m fine.

Wren was already moving ahead. “Come on, boys. Time to kill my brother.”