PROJECT GENESIS ENTRY #0547

Hematic therapy has proven effective in mitigating side effects, though sustained treatment is required to prevent Compound-Genesis deterioration.

Subjects 32 and 37 remain stable. With their success, public trials will commence.

Both subjects will remain under close observation as we initiate efforts to counteract residual effects. Project Songbird is now in development. 

“There’s a matter I need to discuss with you.” Erebus said as we stepped out of the briefing room, pulling me aside. Their expression was unreadable, but their tone left no room for argument.

“You’re more valuable in Squad 95 than locked in a cell,” they said. “That being said, we’re trying something outside protocol. Kaveh vouched for you—put his rank on the line.”

I swallowed. “He what?”

Erebus continued, ignoring the tension creeping into my voice. “The board and CEO have concerns. They needed to know you’ll still do what’s necessary when the time comes—that you’ll eliminate threats, even if they’re your own kind. But Kaveh argued for your character, your ethics. So we’re launching a new initiative. The Nocturne Division. It’s experimental, but it’ll allow qualifying vampires to serve as Hunters. A way to bridge the divide while still protecting humanity. If there are more Songbirds and Lycoris out there, it’ll take more than just human efforts to stop them.”

They extended a badge. Nearly identical to my old one, except for the inscription: Nocturne Division - V01.

“Consider this a reinstatement.”

I took it, my fingers tightening around the plastic. “Thank you, Captain.” I dipped my head slightly, the weight of the gesture not lost on me.

“A-rank and higher Hunters will act as handlers for the vampire recruits,” Erebus added. “Kaveh is your handler.”

“I heard my name.” Atash’s voice cut in from behind.

“I was informing Sato about Nocturne.”

“Oh yeah? Welcome back to Squad 95, Kieran.”

His voice dragged me straight back to earlier—to the way I desperately tried to get him to stay, to the way his body pressed against mine, to the taste of him that still lingered on my tongue. Heat rose to my face. I kept my gaze locked on Erebus. Call it post horny-blood-high clarity, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at him now. Embarrassment burned through me—not just for my own reckless impulse to feed, but because Atash was the only reason I still had a job, the only reason I wasn’t going to waste away in that holding room. 

“Get your uniform on,” Atash said. “We need to train, figure out what you can do now.” He turned slightly, waiting for me to fall into step beside him.

I hesitated, then matched his pace. “Thanks,” I said, keeping my voice even as my gaze remained forward. “For vouching for me.”

“They told you? Thought that was anonymous.” He chuckled under his breath. “Guess that means you know I’m your handler too.”

“Did you volunteer for that, or did they force you?”

“Does it matter?” His gaze flicked to me, assessing.

“No.”

He stopped walking. “Are you upset with me?” His voice edged rougher as if I did something wrong.

Get your shit together Kieran. Stop making this weird. He is not judging you. Probably.

I forced myself to meet his stare, exhaling and shaking my head. “Nah. Just have a lot on my mind.”

“Then get changed and meet me on the mat.” His lips edged into a slow grin. “Unless you’d prefer somewhere more private.”

The new sexual connotation in his tone was not lost on me. 

“The mat’s fine.” My voice came out higher than I intended.

His brows knit together as he stepped in close, his voice a low whisper at my ear. “You sure you’re good? You’re looking a little pale—and not for the obvious reasons. Do you need blood?”

My pulse kicked up. I didn’t need it, not yet. But now that he’d said it? Now that the thought had lodged itself in my brain? Yeah, I wanted it. Badly.

“We can step into one of the debriefing rooms,” he offered.

Atash pulled his hand from his pocket, his pointer finger grazing my chin in a playful tease as he stepped back, slow and deliberate. “Judging by the way you’re practically drooling, I’ll take that as a yes.” He turned, heading for one of the empty rooms.

I needed to get my impulses in check—for the sake of my job, for his reputation. But how was I supposed to pass this up? How long would he keep letting me taste him? Blood bags wouldn’t be the same. Probably tasted like wet cardboard.

My hand hesitated over the doorknob, excitement fizzling into suspicion. Why was he allowing this?