Chapter 67


    #Chapter 67 – All Business


    Victor straightens his tie and clears his throat. God damnit, he thinks, pay attention, Victor. For the life


    of him, he can’t seem to keep his mind on the subject at hand.


    For some reason –


    Well, God damnit, I know the reason, he thinks, gritting his teeth –


    He just can’t seem to focus on the conversation at hand, his ears instead filled with the sound of


    rustling grasses.


    “Victor,” Annabeth Prath says, leaning forward to look him in the eye. “Are you all right? Do you need a


    minute?”


    “No, thank you,” Victor says, clearing his throat again. “I apologize. I’ve got…a lot on my te.”


    “You surely do,” says James Wird, leaning back in his chair and surveying Victor with a smirk. “You


    sure you can handle it all, m’boy?”


    Victor narrows his eyes at Wird for that one, putting his hands on his desk and leaning his weight


    onto them. “Thank you both foring today, as my guests,” he says, emphasizing the term as he


    stares at Wird, reminding him of his ce. “I’m looking forward to discussing with both of you the


    next steps regarding the Prath school.”


    “For me,” Annabeth says, her eyes flitting between the two men, sensing the odd tension between


    them, “the priority needs to be strictly on the education that the children receive.”


    “I couldn’t agree more,” Victor says, nodding at her and standing up straight. “We need to create a


    school that can stand up against the best human schools for educational quality, to give our children aPlease check at N/?vel(D)rama.Org.


    strong start in the world.”


    “This is where we disagree, then,” Wird says, contrary. “I believe that the emphasis should be on


    inculcating identity, culture.”


    Annabeth frowns at him. “What do you mean?”


    “I just mean,” Wird says, waving an exnatory hand, “that the great advantage to having children of


    wolf heritage together in one school is that we can begin to educate them about that heritage. It gives


    us the opportunity to build a future generation that is dedicated to a singr goal.”


    “That sounds awfully close to indoctrination,” Victor says, his voice low with warning.


    Wird shrugs, not denying it. “It’s an opportunity to shape the future by raising children who are united


    in the pursuit of our goals.”


    “At the expense of their quality of education? At the creation of critical thinking skills?” Annabeth raises


    an eyebrow, likewise suspicious.


    “It’s true,” Victor says, joining Annabeth in protest. “I have two sons who I hope very shortly to enroll in


    this school, sons who have a rather stunning intellectual ability. I’m not going to send them there just to


    be brainwashed into some conservative beliefs about their heritage and their roles within their culture.”


    “I have heard much of these boys,” Wird says, meeting Victor’s dark gaze. “They are purportedly full


    of great potential. They could do wonderful things for our people, if directed correctly.”


    Victor frowns at Wird. The boys have indeed been all over the news, but what has not yet leaked is


    their extraordinary intellectual ability.


    “I, too, have heard words of your sons’ mental capacities,” Annabeth says softly. “But I think Victor and


    I are on the same page in thinking that the greatest service we can give to them, and thus to our


    culture, is a rigorous education that helps them to develop their skills.”


    “Pardon me,” Victor says, waving a hand to stop the conversation in its tracks. “How are you already


    aware of my sons’ abilities? This is something I assumed I was telling you about today.”


    Annabeth blinks at him, surprised. “From John Walsh.”


    Victor feels his fingers pricking as his ws immediately respond to Annabeth’s words. From the corner


    of his eye, he can see Wird smirking at him.


    “What has John Walsh said to you,” Victor growls, “about my sons.”


    “It’s not what he’s said to us, Victor,” Annabeth says, leaning forward with concern. “It’s what he’s


    saying to everyone. I don’t want you to think that Walsh and I are having secret meetings about your


    children. It’s the only conversation he wants to have with anyone right now. At every party, every


    meeting, Walsh finds the opportunity to mention his grandchildren and their extraordinary mental


    capacities.”


    Victor’s eyes shift to Wird, noticing that he makes no such denial of personal conversation with


    Walsh. Instead, Wird’s smile grows, taking pleasure in watching Victor struggle under this new


    revtion.


    Victor’s rage grows inside him and his ws begin to emerge from his fingertips, scraping the fine


    wood of his desk.


    Wird responds not by cowing, butughing, which only increases Victor’s rage. “It looks to me,”


    Wird says, standing and buttoning his suitcoat, “that you need a minute to get your ducks in a row.”


    He begins to walk towards Victor’s office door. “I’ll be in touch in a few days, Victor. In the meantime, I


    suggest you begin to pay better attention to the political field, to the cultural conversation.” He nces


    back as he strolls out the door. “Especially considering that you and your…family…are frequently at the


    center of it.”


    Both Annabeth and Victor watch him go. “That man,” Annabeth says, shaking her head. “Has truly let a


    little bit of power go to his head. He’s always tried to portray himself as just the humble leader of a


    small, progressive pack, but that’s such bullshit. He’s always wanted to be in charge.”


    Victor works to calm his breathing, willing his ws to retract. “I concur. It was, perhaps, a mistake…to


    give him so much at once.”


    Annabell turns her head to Victor. “I don’t see how you could have done anything else.”


    “Neither do I,” Victor responds, still watching the door where Wird stood a few moments ago. “Which


    is part of the problem. I allowed myself to be backed into a corner. I never should have let it happen.”


    Annabeth likewise stands up, smoothing her skirt with her hands. “I like you, Kensington,” she says,


    gathering her things. “I think that your heart is in the right ce and that you’re not ying this game


    for political power alone.” She looks him in the eye as she moves towards the door. “Be careful, here.


    They’re working on something.”


    Victor nods his agreement and she leaves. He sighs and runs a hand through his perfect hair, mussing


    it. He’s grateful to have Annabeth on his side, but she’s right. Something’sing, and he’s got to get


    ahead of it.


    Amelia peeks around Victor’s door. “Hey, how did it go?” she asks.


    Victor shakes his head at her. “Not as well as I’d have hoped. There’s…well, I suppose it doesn’t


    matter.”


    Amelia quickly crosses the room,ing close to smooth his hair. “I’m sorry, you seem stressed,


    baby,” she says softly, warmly. “Is there anything I can do?”


    “No,” Victor says, shaking his head and smiling at her, thinking that when she’s feeling kind, Amelia can


    truly be lovely. “Thank you, but I just need to figure this out.”


    Amelia tugs him by the hand, drawing him out of the office and into the kitchen. “Let’s get you a drink,”


    she says, smiling at him and leading him over to the small bar in the corner of the kitchen. “You need to


    rx.”


    “No, Amelia,” Victor says, looking distantly out the back window. “I need to keep my head clear so that I


    can think.”


    There’s movement out in the back yard and Victor looks towards it, curious. He smiles, seeing two little


    boys running around the pool, followed by a slim figure dressed in blue. Behind him, he distantly hears


    the sound of liquid pouring into a ss.


    Victor’s boys burst through the back door, all smiles.