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turn away from her with a swish of tails and a few glances at her hair.
    The messenger was waiting for her, bemused.
    “Lead on.” She squared her shoulders and followed the back of the messenger, with her guards flanking her on all sides.
    Her tent beckoned, and within were the bosses of the clans that were after her. A deep breath and she was ready for the inquisition.
    The dim confines of the tent almost blinded her for a moment so she came to a complete halt inside the flap. Five shadows sat around a table that had been erected for this purpose. The table was round and she suspected that it was only that which kept the alphas from fighting to be the head of the table.
    She immediately took charge. “Welcome to my tent, gentlemen. What can I do for you?”
    They looked confused, finally one spoke. “We wish to know a little more about your talent.”
    “What about it?”
    “Well, we know that you owe your allegiance to Alfred and the Yellowpaw clan, but what benefit would be given by having you linked to one of our clans?”
    She sat and glanced over at the man who shared her hair color, then dismissed him with a flick of her lids. “I owe my allegiance to no clan. Least of all my mother’s. She was disowned by her family when she left, and they never acknowledged me. I owe them nothing.”
    The scowl that ran over what had to be her grandfather’s face made the tiny neglected girl deep within her cheer in glee. Served the old bastard right. Her mother had tried several times during her childhood to engage her father in her family. It had never worked, and her mother had been devastated.
    He could rot. So could his clan.
     

 
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter 7
     
     
    "An Archive is a being who can create spells. Those spells are used by magical races for tasks or tools.” She grinned viciously, “And they pay through the nose for the privilege.” As she sat her Coke was delivered to her by one of her entourage. The girl took one look at the assembled leaders and bolted.
    “Just how do you know that? We were told that you had not been in contact with the general magical public.”
    “I have friends who brokered the spells to interested parties. It has kept me well financed over the last few years.” The beverage was rapidly disappearing as she sipped at it. It seemed to hit the spot. “Who are you all, by the way?” She looked around at the alphas. “I know Alfred, I see those eyes in the mirror, but who are the rest of you?”
    And so she was introduced to the clan leaders. It was only the alpha of the Silverfang that stuck with her. Walther was kind, debonair and had a harsh sensuality about him that was oddly familiar.
    The questions that they asked her were almost amusing; they wanted to know how her talent would impact their status in Realm. So she told them.
    “By controlling their access to me, you control their access to new spells. You will get respect, bribery and an instant vote in the council. The clan that I end up with will have more status in the halls of Realm by their association with me.” Her pride was not misplaced. It was a simple fact and the reason that she had stayed away from the packs for so long.
    It would be a manner of ownership. She would become property to be traded, her talents a commodity.
    Then came the question that she had been waiting for. “Will your talents be passed to your children?”
    Walther had asked it, so she answered it. “No. I do not believe that two generations of Archive have ever been. Not in the same family. My talents will die with me.” It was odd to talk about her death in such bald terms, but it needed to be stated.
    They would not be able to breed another from her. It wasn’t even plausible. The occurrence of an Archive was so rare as to be astronomically unlikely. Two in one family were unheard of.
    The heads of the alphas darted together, a frantic murmuring occurred and they muttered in low tones. It was almost a sibilant hissing and