Anna sighed. "I told you something about my first pack-they left me with a few issues. Too many dominant wolves, and I turn into a chicken. What do you know about the difference between the dominant wolves and the submissive ones?"

He shrugged. "They tell me nothing. These wolves, they don't talk much. Me, they will tell you, I talk all the time. Or maybe you have noticed. How can we solve things if we do not talk? Talking is useful. But I watch, too. The dominant wolves fight with each other and take care of the submissive wolves. The submissive ones, they are no threat. They need to be taken care of, though-a pat on the head. A reassuring touch is necessary for them."

"I had it explained in very simple words," said Anna. "Dominant wolves"-she deepened her voice to a passable baritone, but she couldn't quite get Asil's accent-"their instincts tell them to protect with violence and control their environment. They are ready to kill. The more dominant the wolf, the quicker he is to kill. Less dominant wolves cede the authority to protect to the more dominant wolf. An Alpha is the ultimate control freak, ready to kill anyone who threatens his pack. He protects the weaker from the strong and suffers no defiance of his will. There's other stuff, magic stuff, but that's the gist of it."

"Yes," he said. "I have seen this."

"Submissive wolves are the kinder, gentler wolves. They are missing the killing instinct. That doesn't mean they won't kill under the right circumstances, just that it is not their first answer to every problem. They don't need to control everyone around them. With a submissive wolf, a dominant wolf will relax because the lesser wolf is no threat."

"All right. Yes."

"An Omega wolf is an Alpha wolf who is extremely zen."

There was a little pause as he absorbed that. She grabbed a handful of nuts and came up with a bunch of Brazil nuts and a peanut. Angus, evidently, didn't like Brazil nuts.

Finally, Ric said slowly, "An Alpha is the most dominant wolf in the pack, the most prone to violence."

Anna nodded. "No one gives him crap, and his job is to protect his pack. No one gives Omegas crap either, and our job is to protect our packs, even from themselves. The zen part comes because we don't have to kill anyone to get our way."

"Alpha," he said it again, to get the feel of it. And there was a little punch behind it. Anger, even.

"Alpha," said Anna, eating a nut. She didn't mind Brazil nuts, though she preferred almonds. "Minus most of the tough stuff, and our magic stuff is different. With our magic, we make our pack happy."

Ric grinned at her.

"While the Alpha can pull strength, even magic, from all the pack, the Marrok-and this is only the smallest part of what makes him scary-can pull from all of his Alphas. I don't think we have anything like that. But yeah, you don't have to listen when the big bad wolves want to boss you around. Omega doesn't mean weak."

Evidently he could be quiet, too, because he tilted his head toward the ceiling and thought for about ten minutes-long enough that Anna had time to think over what she had told him. She hadn't been acting like an Alpha with zen; she'd been acting like a submissive wolf... No, because even a submissive wolf didn't usually put her tail between her legs at the first sign of a dominant wolf, as she had been doing. She had killed a vampire. She had killed a witch so scary that she'd chased Asil out of his home and kept him on the run for two hundred years. Asil, the Moor, whose name was whispered with awe (or, sometimes snarled) wherever he went.

Grumpily, she picked up her book and stared at the page.

"Anna," he said, at last.

"Yes?"

"I would like to teach my pack this truth of yours. That I am not a child, a plaything they may find convenient. An uber-submissive wolf, yes? They must see me for the zen wolf that I am."

Zen wolf. That had a bigger punch than Omega.

"And how have you decided to do it?"

He smiled at her, his face lit with mischief. "I have an intention. Tonight there is to be a feast, yes? And after that, a hunt. Anyone not a submissive wolf may join in the hunt. That exclusion is for their protection, with so many dominants about. Anyone. I think that I should hunt."

Chapter EIGHT

CHARLES was most comfortable by himself or, if that wasn't possible, with his pack in the wild. Talking for hours in a crowded auditorium was not on any list of things he enjoyed-or things he was good at. At least no one had died. Yet.

The Germans had settled down as soon as the Italians' Omega had stalked off with offended dignity. The Italians, for their part, did a good job of concealing their glee and got down to business. Deals were hammered out.

By two in the afternoon, Charles and the Finnish delegates were finally bringing to fruition a complicated dance of issues further confused by translation problems. They claimed to have no one who spoke English. He didn't speak Finnish. So they translated through a Norwegian wolf who spoke Finnish and Spanish, and a Spaniard who spoke English. He suspected it was a ruse to give them time to think-and he had no objection.

He agreed to a no-interest loan for the Finns to use for positive publicity, fronted by the charitable arm of the Marrok's company. Though Charles himself would be in charge of the distribution and would expect results for the money-it was still a good deal.

The Finns weren't the only ones smiling as they finished up. Everyone had been following the negotiations closely, many of them even taking notes as they finally decided to believe that the Marrok had no intention of leaving them high and dry-and was willing to sign contracts, legal contracts that could now be taken to courts just like anyone else's: a benefit none of them had thought of until now. Gradually, as the day progressed, a spirit of cautious optimism had begun spreading through the wolves.

"We are agreed?" Charles asked the man who'd been acting as the Finnish lead.

As the translation worked its way through the language barriers, and the Finn began to nod, Jean Chastel stood up, and said, "No."

The Frenchman waited until the Finn, who had come to his feet in the middle of negotiations, slowly sat down before he continued. "We won't accept guilt money for this betrayal of all the treaties we've signed with the Marrok in which he agrees to keep his nose out of our business."

And damned if he didn't open up a slick briefcase and start piling up paper-and parchment that looked as though it might have been older than Chastel, and was ancient enough to smell of dust rather than lamb. "We do not need the Marrok's money. We are not under his 'protec tion.' He has no jurisdiction in our territories."