Wlodek studied his personal assistant before saying anything. Charles was eternally curious and loved information of any kind. His hazel eyes held a question as he, in turn, studied Wlodek. Wlodek's official title, Sanguis Rex, was seldom used. Instead, he was addressed as Head of the Council or Honored One. It gave the illusion at times that Wlodek's vote was only one of nine. The Council (and Charles) knew that he often made decisions on things that never reached the Council for a vote.
"Charles, make arrangements to send this amount to William Winkler in Dallas," Wlodek handed over a slip of paper.
"Might I inquire what this money is for?" Charles displayed no emotion, although three quarters of a million dollars was quite a large sum to be sending the Dallas Packmaster, who held sufficient wealth of his own.
"Temporary housing," Wlodek replied. "And if we're lucky, information on half-Elemaiyan children that might make fine turns one day. When they're of sufficient age, of course."
Charles knew not to blink or to show shock, surprise or any other emotion to the Head of the Council. "Of course, Honored One," Charles replied. "I'll have it done immediately." Turning quickly, Charles almost disappeared, he moved so swiftly.
"Good," Wlodek muttered and went back to sifting through a pile of requests.
* * *
"I've received a transfer of funds for temporary housing. What do you think that means?" Winkler asked the Grand Master over the phone. "Seven hundred fifty thousand. That's a lot of temporary housing."
"Wlodek never does anything in half-measures, or generally anything at all unless there's something that will benefit the vampire race in it somewhere," Weldon Harper grumbled. "We just don't know what that is at the moment. Doesn't matter. Tell Director Bill he can bring the families to Cloud Chief for the summer. How quickly can you get those prefab homes in place?"
"I've already made arrangements; all we have to do now is inform the community that they'll be hosting humans during the summer." Winkler didn't really want to be the one to make that announcement.
"I'll leave that to you," Weldon said, causing Winkler to grimace. Grateful that the Grand Master couldn't see the face he'd just made, Winkler said, "I'll get on that immediately," and hung up.
* * *
"What's going on?" Sali slid onto a cafeteria bench beside Ashe. Principal Billings' announcement on the intercom had interrupted their last class of the day. Billings seldom used the intercom for announcements, and the device had crackled and grumbled as the principal instructed all students and faculty to gather in the cafeteria. In Ashe's opinion, it was likely from lack of use. Benjamin Billings preferred to bellow at wrongdoers and anyone he suspected of wrongdoing. This time, the electronic intercom was used instead and all students were instructed to attend an unscheduled general assembly. Tables had been hastily folded up and shoved against a wall, leaving benches and chairs for seating inside the recently constructed school. The old school building had been destroyed a year earlier by a tornado.
"Dude, there's a bunch of people walking down the hall," Ashe hissed, his acute hearing detecting many footsteps and the banging of doors on the north end of the schoolhouse.
"Look," Sali whispered, nodding toward the wide doorway leading into the cafeteria. His mother, Denise DeLuca, led a crowd of Cloud Chief residents inside the lunchroom.
Principal Billings, surrounded by the faculty of Cloud Chief Combined, watched as representatives from the community took seats in the swiftly prepared assembly. When all was quiet except for a few coughs and throat-clearings, Principal Billings stepped to the podium.
"I have a special guest here today, with an announcement from the Grand Master and the Head of the Vampire Council," Principal Billings began. "Most of you know him already—he was here for the investigations a year ago. Mr. Winkler, if you'd like to come in, now." Principal Billings held out his hand and William Winkler strode through the door, coming to stand next to the Principal. Taller than Billings by a good six inches, while his presence overshadowed that of Cloud Chief's Principal, William Winkler smiled and nodded at the assembled crowd before taking Billings' place behind the podium.
"I realize this meeting is a surprise to most of you, but I have a prepared joint statement from the Grand Master and from the Head of the Vampire Council," Winkler began, his nearly black eyes scanning the crowd. "I ask you to remember that they helped put these communities together, and it is our duty to follow their instructions. Here is the statement." Winkler pulled a folded paper from his shirt pocket and opened it.
Dude, this is weird, Ashe sent to Sali, who nodded in silent agreement. "It is agreed between the werewolf and vampire races," Winkler began, "that we should provide shelter and protection for the families of the half-Elemaiyan children who have been preyed upon by the Elemaiya. These children face kidnapping or death if we do not act. It has been requested by the authorities within the U.S. Government that we provide homes for these families until a more permanent solution may be found."
"What?" Sali mouthed at Ashe. Whispers and murmurs interrupted the silence in the cafeteria—students and adults were expressing their surprise and alarm at this strange turn of events. Everything from curiosity to animosity was uttered between neighbors and classmates. Winkler held up a hand and silence resumed.
"What that means," Winkler went on, "is that there are only six children left. Six who haven't been kidnapped or killed, out of hundreds. The government has attempted to relocate the families, but even that hasn't worked. They've lost at least fifteen others since they started the relocation program. They're asking us now to take the remaining six families in until a better solution can be arranged at the end of summer. The Grand Master has decreed it," Winkler offered a hard stare to the werewolves around the room.
Ashe watched one particular person, knowing he would be the barometer for the racism and bigotry that would likely ensue—Principal Benjamin Billings, PhD., werewolf. If there were a more sour expression attainable on the Principal's face, Ashe was never destined to see it. Billings was angry, with a capital A. His gaze turning from Billings, Ashe searched out the other two—Chump and Wormy.
Chad and Jeremy were already huddled together, whispering. Ashe might have heard what they were saying if the cafeteria wasn't already buzzing with micro-conversations. "Where will they live?" Mr. Dodd, the History teacher raised a hand.