The FBI Chicago field office looked the same as always—beige walls, fluorescent lighting, and the persistent smell of burnt coffee that seemed to be permanently embedded in the ventilation system. But as Ivy walked through the familiar corridors, everything felt different. Like she was seeing it all through someone else's eyes.
Clarke's text message kept replaying in her head. *Agent Novak, report in immediately.*
He'd blown her cover identity in a single careless message. Either he'd made a massive operational security mistake, or he didn't care about protecting her anymore.
Neither option was particularly comforting.
Instead of heading straight to Clarke's office, Ivy made a detour to the women's restroom on the third floor. She locked herself in a stall and pulled out the silver bullet, turning it over in her palm. The engravings along the side were definitely intentional—symbols she didn't recognize, but they looked old. Important.
She tucked the bullet back into her jacket pocket and left the restroom, walking with purpose toward the elevator bank.
"Ivy! There you are."
Agent Jessica Chen appeared at her elbow, looking harried. Jess was one of the few people in the building Ivy actually trusted—they'd been through Academy training together, and Jess had never shown any interest in playing political games.
"Hey," Ivy said, trying to sound casual. "What's the emergency? Clarke's been blowing up my phone."
"No idea. He's been locked in meetings all day, and he's had that look." Jess made a face. "You know the one. Like someone's about to get transferred to the Alaska field office."
"Great." Ivy pressed the elevator button. "I should probably go face the music."
"Actually, he's not in his office right now. Emergency meeting with some suits from D.C." Jess glanced around and lowered her voice. "Between you and me, something big is going down. There are people here I've never seen before, all wearing the kind of badges that mean 'classified above your pay grade.'"
The elevator doors opened with a soft ding.
"Thanks for the heads up," Ivy said, stepping inside.
"Ivy?" Jess caught the door before it could close. "Be careful, okay? Whatever this is about, it's got everyone on edge."
The doors slid shut, leaving Ivy alone with her reflection in the polished steel. She looked tired, stressed, like someone who'd been living a lie for too long.
Which, she was starting to realize, might be more accurate than she'd thought.
Instead of going up to Clarke's office on the fifteenth floor, Ivy pressed the button for B2. Sub-basement level, where the Bureau kept files too sensitive for digital storage. Getting access required special clearance and a very good reason.
Fortunately, Ivy had both.
The basement level always felt like a different world. No windows, no natural light, just endless rows of filing cabinets and climate-controlled storage units. The security guard at the entrance barely looked up from his crossword puzzle when she badged in.
"Working late again, Agent Novak?" he asked without much interest.
"Case research. You know how it is."
He waved her through with a bored gesture.
Ivy made her way to the section housing files from the past five years. Her clearance would get her access to most of them, but there were certain classifications that required additional authorization. Files marked with codes she'd never seen before.
Files related to supernatural threats.
She found what she was looking for in section C, filed under a designation she didn't recognize: "Project Silver Dawn."
The folder was thick, bound with red tape that indicated the highest level of classification. Ivy glanced around to make sure she was alone, then carefully broke the seal.
The first document made her stomach drop.
**CLASSIFIED - EYES ONLY**
**PROJECT SILVER DAWN**
**EXECUTIVE SUMMARY**
**Prepared by: Director Richard Clarke**
**Date: January 15, 2024**
*The existence of supernatural entities within U.S. borders represents a clear and present danger to national security. After extensive research and consultation with allied agencies, we have determined that peaceful coexistence is impossible. Project Silver Dawn authorizes the systematic identification, tracking, and elimination of all supernatural threats, beginning with the vampire population in major metropolitan areas.*
Ivy's hands were shaking as she turned the page.
**PHASE ONE: INTELLIGENCE GATHERING**
*Infiltrate known vampire communities using human assets. Priority targets include the Rothschild family (Chicago), the Blackwood Consortium (New York), and the Valdez Group (Los Angeles). Gather evidence of criminal activity, organizational structure, and individual capabilities.*
**PHASE TWO: ISOLATION AND CONTAINMENT**
*Use gathered intelligence to systematically arrest key vampire leaders on charges of organized crime. Transfer detainees to specialized containment facilities for study and eventual disposal.*
**PHASE THREE: FINAL SOLUTION**
*Coordinate with military assets to eliminate remaining vampire populations. Deploy silver-based weapons and UV radiation technology. Estimated timeline: 6-8 months from project initiation.*
The words blurred together as Ivy read. Elimination. Final solution. Disposal.
They weren't talking about arrests and trials. They were talking about genocide.
She flipped through more pages, finding detailed maps of vampire territories, photographs of individuals marked as "high priority targets," and technical specifications for weapons designed specifically to kill supernatural beings.
And there, in the center of it all, was a photograph she recognized.
Dimitri Rothschild, labeled as "Primary Target Alpha."
Underneath his photo was a complete dossier. Family history, known associates, psychological profile, and a section titled "Recommended Elimination Method."
Ivy's vision started to tunnel. She gripped the edge of the filing cabinet to steady herself.
They weren't trying to arrest Dimitri. They were planning to murder him.
She kept reading, searching for more information about the project timeline. According to the documents, Phase One had been ongoing for eight months. Multiple agents had been deployed to gather intelligence, but several had "failed to maintain contact."
Failed to maintain contact. FBI speak for "presumed dead."
And now they'd sent her.
But why? Why choose someone with a personal connection to the target? It went against every rule of undercover operations.
Unless...
Ivy turned to the final section of the file, labeled "Personnel Selection Criteria." Her blood turned to ice as she read.
**Agent Selection Protocol:**
*For maximum effectiveness, Phase One operatives should have pre-existing emotional connections to target subjects. Romantic relationships preferred, as they provide natural cover and motivation for close contact. In the event of agent compromise, emotional attachment ensures targets will hesitate to eliminate the threat, creating opportunities for extraction or secondary operations.*
*Note: Expendable assets only. Agents should be considered acceptable losses if mission objectives are achieved.*
Expendable assets.
Acceptable losses.
They'd sent her to die.
Not to gather intelligence, not to make arrests, not to seek justice. They'd sent her to Chicago knowing she would get close to Dimitri, knowing he would recognize her, knowing that their shared history would make him vulnerable.
And when she inevitably got caught, when her cover was blown, they planned to use her capture as justification for their final assault.
She was bait. Nothing more.
"Agent Novak."
The voice came from directly behind her, cold and controlled. Ivy spun around to find Clarke standing three feet away, flanked by two men in dark suits she didn't recognize.
"Director Clarke." Ivy's voice sounded steadier than she felt. "I was just—"
"Reading classified files without authorization." Clarke's pale blue eyes were flat, emotionless. "Files you have no business accessing."
"I have the clearance—"
"You have the clearance I gave you. Which doesn't extend to Project Silver Dawn." Clarke stepped closer, and Ivy could see the disappointment in his expression. "I'm very sorry to see this, Agent Novak. I had hoped you would follow orders without asking unnecessary questions."
"Unnecessary questions?" Ivy's voice cracked with outrage. "You're planning to commit genocide!"
"I'm planning to protect this country from threats you can't begin to understand." Clarke's voice was patient, like he was explaining something to a child. "Vampires aren't people, Agent Novak. They're predators. Parasites. They've been hiding among us for centuries, feeding on human blood and manipulating our society for their own benefit."
"That doesn't give you the right to exterminate them!"
"Doesn't it?" Clarke smiled, and for the first time since she'd known him, the expression was genuinely cold. "They're not protected by the Constitution. They're not citizens. They're an invasive species, and we're doing what any responsible government would do."
Ivy thought about the vampires she'd met at the Rothschild estate. Beautiful, yes, and certainly dangerous. But they'd been talking, laughing, living their lives. They'd seemed more human than monster.
"What about due process? What about trials?"
"What about the hundreds of missing persons cases in cities with known vampire populations?" Clarke's voice was getting sharper. "What about the unexplained deaths, the drained corpses, the families who will never know what happened to their loved ones?"
"You don't know that vampires are responsible—"
"Don't I?" Clarke gestured to one of the men flanking him, who stepped forward with a tablet. "Show her the crime scene photos from Detroit. Show her what her boyfriend's people do when they think no one is watching."
The screen filled with images that made Ivy's stomach lurch. Bodies drained of blood, wounds that looked like bite marks, crime scenes that spoke of violence and hunger.
"That's not—" She started to protest, but the words died in her throat. Because she didn't actually know what Dimitri was capable of now. She didn't know what he'd become.
"It's not what, Agent Novak? Not what vampires do? Not what your precious Dimitri has done?" Clarke's voice was soft, poisonous. "Do you know what he was doing the night he left you ten years ago?"
Ivy's heart stopped. "What?"
"He was killing a family in Grosse Pointe. Mother, father, two teenage children. Drained them dry and left them for the morning joggers to find." Clarke's smile was triumphant. "That's when we first became aware of his activities. That's when we started tracking him."
The words hit her like physical blows. Danny—her Danny—a killer? It couldn't be true.
But the doubt was already creeping in. The timing was right. He'd left her suddenly, without explanation, right around the time those murders would have happened.
"You're lying," she whispered.
"Am I? Ask him yourself. If you live long enough." Clarke nodded to his companions. "Agents Morrison and Webb will escort you to a secure location while we decide what to do with you."
"What to do with me?"
"You've been compromised, Agent Novak. Your emotional attachment to the target has made you unreliable. You're either going to help us complete this mission, or you're going to be removed from the equation."
Removed from the equation. Another euphemism for murder.
Ivy's training kicked in. Two men, both armed, standing between her and the exit. But they weren't expecting her to run—they thought she was a broken agent, overwhelmed by the revelations about her ex-boyfriend.
They were wrong.
"I understand," she said quietly, letting her shoulders slump in defeat. "You're right. I've been compromised."
Clarke relaxed slightly. "I'm glad you see reason—"
Ivy drove her elbow into Morrison's solar plexus and grabbed his service weapon in one fluid motion. Before Webb could react, she had the gun pointed at Clarke's chest.
"Nobody move," she said calmly.
Webb's hand was already reaching for his holster. "Agent Novak, put the weapon down—"
"I said nobody move!" Ivy's voice echoed off the concrete walls. "You want to see compromised? This is compromised."
Clarke raised his hands slowly, but his expression wasn't afraid. If anything, he looked satisfied.
"There's nowhere to run, Agent Novak. This building is surrounded. You're not leaving here alive unless you cooperate."
"Maybe not." Ivy backed toward the emergency exit, keeping the gun trained on the three men. "But I'm sure as hell not going to make it easy for you."
She reached the door and slammed her hand against the emergency release. Alarms started blaring immediately, red lights flashing in the corridor.
"Agent Novak!" Clarke called after her as she disappeared through the doorway. "You're making a terrible mistake!"
Maybe she was. But sitting in that basement, reading about government-sanctioned genocide, she'd realized something important.
Whatever Dimitri had become, whatever he'd done, she couldn't let Clarke's people murder him without at least hearing his side of the story.
And if that made her a traitor to everything she'd sworn to protect, then maybe it was time to figure out what she actually believed in.
The emergency exit led to a parking garage two blocks away. Ivy ran through the darkness, her footsteps echoing off concrete, and tried not to think about the fact that she'd just destroyed her entire life for a man who might be a monster.
But as she reached her car and fumbled for her keys, one thought kept running through her mind.
Dimitri had warned her this would happen. He'd told her not to trust the people who claimed to be protecting her.
How had he known?
---
End of Chapter 6