Claiming Treasure

Colletta Grimes’ POV

Watergate Hotel, Washington, DC

June 8, Three Months After Exposure

“Excuse me, Madam Chairwoman. May I get your autograph?”

I looked up from the breakfast table, seeing a young woman clutching a copy of TIME magazine from June 2nd. THE FIRST FAMILY OF WEREWOLVES, it said above the cover picture of my sons and daughters, on each side of me as I sat in Frank’s lap. Taken two weeks ago, I smiled at how well it turned out. All of the women were notably pregnant, due in the late summer except for Heather and Rori. The two wolves in the photo had huge baby bumps, especially Heather’s dark brown and white wolf. Her belly couldn’t hide as she lay on her side at Carson’s feet. She could barely walk anymore, so we all had to meet at Cascade Pack for the photoshoot. I looked over at the leader of our security team, all humans, and he nodded, letting me know she wasn’t a threat. I just rolled my eyes; it’s not like the teenager could hide a weapon under that tight dress she was wearing. “Of course,” I said as I took the Sharpie from her. I signed near my head, then handed it to Frank to sign. “The price of celebrity,” I teased.

“Could I take a quick photo? My friends won’t believe this.” I nodded, and the waitress took a quick photo before the woman returned to sit with her family. I recognized him as a Senator from Colorado and gave them a quick wave. The hotel restaurant was full of movers and shakers in Washington, and that now included us.

The family reunion at the Cascade Pack was about more than just pictures. A lot had changed in the two months since Jack Coffey had forced the Arrowhead Pack to shift on camera. The public reaction varied between easy acceptance and violent opposition, and it took weeks for things to settle down. I had survived a recall vote in the Council after the attacks on multiple packs, but our policy of openness eventually won over the people. We weren’t completely safe yet, and our security remained on alert; there were still people out there who would never accept us. We had lost sixteen wolves to human attacks, yet we didn’t retaliate.

We shared. We invited camera crews in, we were the subjects of special reports and documentaries, and we admitted our crimes and secrets. Bitterroot was the biggest problem we had; so much evil had gone on there, and the locals were furious. We made the hard decision to dissolve the failing Pack, moving remaining members to other Packs or Council Prisons. The FBI concluded that there was no one left to prosecute for the kidnappings, rapes, and killings. We released videos of trials and punishments. People were shocked at their speed and brutality, but that was our way.

Alpha Long returned to his previous position as the Council, overseeing the legal aspects of the missing person cases. The previous Alphas had kept detailed records of their human breeding program. The files allowed law enforcement to close missing person cases in Montana and fifteen other states.

Last week the final bodies had been exhumed and returned to their families.

There were still daily incursions onto Pack lands, especially those near major metropolitan areas. Few were hostile, some were curious, but the most common ones were female and single. When humans discovered a population of good-looking men and women, who mated for life and could offer youth and long life to their ONE? Well, they wanted in on the deal. Chase said it got so bad at Arrowhead that they started organizing Singles Nights on Fridays down at the beach, also known as “scratch and sniff nights” for Pack members in wolf form.

No humans had received the Change as of yet. The Council was watching a dozen or so possible matches reported, and we were waiting on conversions until the Treaty was approved. Mating with humans wasn’t an exact science; Doc thought the bond only came forward when the human was in danger. I’d realized Frank was my mate during the attack on my house, Carson recognized Heather during the fight at Arrowhead, and Kathryn accepted Mark when the bite fever was about to kill him.

Overall, we were doing better than the European Packs. It didn’t take more than a few weeks before all of them were exposed, and not every government was as accepting of us as the Western Democracies were.

The worst treatment was among the Russian packs. The government surrounded Pack lands with military forces and invaded. If not for the warnings they got from sympathetic people in Government, hundreds would now be in Siberian prison camps or dead. The Murmansk and Beloretsk Packs dispersed, escaping through the mountains with only what they could carry in a backpack. They used their emergency plans to flee to the West. The Beloretsk Pack used false passports to board aircraft heading out of Russia, eventually making their way to Vancouver. The Murmansk Pack hired a fishing trawler that dropped them at Adak, an Alaskan island in the west of the Aleutian chain. Both groups applied for political asylum, using the attacks to show why they couldn’t return home.

Canada had agreed to take in Beloretsk, while the United States was processing the claim still. I’d spent most of yesterday with the State Department and Immigration, working out a deal. We already had private lands and homes in Bitterroot, and the old Pack was gone. Alpha Boris Serada was meeting with the Governor of Montana today about it. We needed his support to make it all work. “What are you thinking about,” Frank said as he cut into his steak.

“The Murmansk Pack,” I said. “What if Montana doesn’t want them?”

“Governor Senbrenner in Alaska would take them. We may have to put them with the Denali Pack until we can find land and build the facilities. I don’t think they would mind Alaska. Hell, Alpha Boris probably remembers when the Russians owned it.”

I snorted as I thought back; the weather and terrain of Alaska could work for them. “Coral texted me this morning; Alpha Ivan and Luna Svetlana are spending the next week scouting out potential Pack sites while the rest of Beloretsk stays with them.”

“So Greg Barks is underfoot?” Greg had gone back to live with Beloretsk with his mate Tatiana after the fight with Heather.

“No, he’s an advance scout for them. He knows Alpha Keith will kick his ass, given any reason.” Normally Coral would, but she was six months pregnant.

“At least he was acting with his big head now,” Frank said with a smile. “Looks like we have company.”

I looked over to four older men in suits. Councilman Anders Ulffson, Nehemiah Pensky, Yakov Baronsky, and Jurgen Nemmers all walked towards us. The wait staff quickly moved a table next to ours at a word from our security. “Good morning,” I said to the rest of the Werewolf Council. “Everyone sleep all right?”

“Like the dead,” Yakov said.

“Fitting since an old man like you wouldn’t have been able to run for six days through the mountain snows if you were back home in Beloretsk when it went down.” Yakov had been in Canada at the time and had been a key player with the Canadian government.

“My son had enough fun. Imagine fleeing for your life with your pregnant Luna clinging to your back the whole way,” he replied with a smile. “Still, they all made it out. Praise the Goddess for her protection.”

“What happens to you now that your Pack is in North America,” Frank asked him.

“I don’t know. I suppose at some point the remaining European Alphas will want to replace me with one of their own. It’s not a bad thing; I’ve had a good run.”

“Maybe you can take my spot. All this political stuff sucks,” Nehemiah replied. “Everyone wants something from you, and kissing politician ass is tiresome. I don’t know how you do it, Colletta.”

“You pucker up and ignore the taste,” I said with a grin. “You’re reassuring with your country doctor persona in front of the press. The old ladies love you.”

“Don’t remind me. Do you have any idea how many marriage proposals I’m getting every day? My secretary doesn’t even print them out.” We all laughed as they ordered breakfast, the conversation among friends easy. Too soon, an hour had passed, and it was time to go.

The Secret Service was bringing us to the White House this time; the signing ceremony was scheduled for noon in the Rose Garden. “By Luna, I never thought we’d get here,” I said to Frank as we passed through security.

“President Kettering bet big on us, and it paid off. Once public opinion shifted our way, her approval ratings jumped fifteen points.”

“She had her reasons for helping.”

“True, but all we can do is try to find her a mate. We made that clear,” he said.

My second time in the Rose Garden was far less nerve-wracking than the first. Two podiums next to each other, one with the Presidential Seal and one with the howling wolf logo of the Council. “I am proud that we have negotiated a fair treaty with the Werewolves of North America, for our mutual benefit and security,” President Laura Kettering said as the event opened. “Using the template provided by our current treaties with Native Americans, the United States recognizes this special population group and its government. In matters concerning werewolves, the Packs and Councils will have the autonomy to govern themselves while obeying the laws of the United States. It clarifies their legal status and bans discrimination in all forms. We should not tolerate species-ism any more than we tolerate racism and sexism within our borders.”

I was thrilled with this part of the agreement; ever since we came out, there had been subtle and overt displays of discrimination against our people. After today, having a wolf half was legally no different than any other characteristic since birth.

“Little grows in the shade, especially peace and understanding,” she continued. “With this treaty, the werewolf citizens of the United States can come boldly into the sun with us. Madam Chairwoman Colletta Grimes, as the senior member of the Werewolf Government, will now make her remarks.”

“Thank you. Madam President, members of the Administration, and fellow Americans,” I said. “A few months ago, a secret kept for millennia burst forth on television, forever changing our society. For centuries we lived beside you, hiding our nature in the rational fear that humans would kill us if they knew we existed. There were a few who tried, but they were the rare exception. Instead, we were able to reach across and build relationships. We have found acceptance, and through that, both groups have benefitted. In the past two months, werewolves able to openly use their skills with their law-enforcement partners have rescued five lost children, apprehended dozens of dangerous fugitives, and assisted in foiling an assassination plot against our President.”

Valerie Grunwald, the Secret Service Chief, had enthusiastically accepted the President’s desire to have werewolves on the detail. Three volunteers from the Adirondack Pack became Secret Service Agents after background checks, testing, and an abbreviated training program. Two worked in wolf form, the third as a human to coordinate with the rest of the detail. They had all the skills of a police dog, with the intelligence and instant communications capability of a trained agent. When a man with a ceramic knife lunged for the President last week, one of the werewolves took him down before the human agents cleared leather.

Nothing says “I trust you,” like putting your life in our hands.

“I am convinced that the future of my kind intertwines with your own. Together, we will build a better world for all of us.” I stepped back as the guests applauded.

The President stepped towards the table as I followed. “And now for the signing of the treaty.” She and I signed, using multiple ceremonial pens, to the applause of the gathered people. Standing back up, she addressed the Press. “The treaty will be forwarded to the Senate immediately for ratification.” We stayed for another twenty minutes answering questions from the Press, then went back inside.

“How are you doing,” Frank asked.

“My back and feet hurt,” I said. “Let’s go.” I turned my phone on, dozens of emails and text messages downloading. I flipped through the ones for my family when my phone rang. “Carson?”

“Heather’s going into surgery, Mom. The babies can’t wait any longer to come out.”

“Oh Luna, protect those girls,” I said softly.

No one had carried twins in wolf form before. They were identical twin girls, coming early at thirty weeks. “We’ll be there as soon as we can. Take care of your family.” I hung up, seeing Frank already on the phone to our pilots. I alerted our security team, and they worked with the Secret Service to escort us to the motor pool, where they drove us to the airport.

I spent most of the drive on the phone, talking to the rest of the family. As we lifted off, I was thinking about my life just two years ago.

I was mated to a man who was willing to destroy his family for power.

My oldest was a single Alpha-heir, just biding his time.

My middle boy was unable to move past rejection.

My youngest boy was burying himself in his medical residency.

My daughter was fighting to prove herself as a Warrior.

And now? All of us mated to good wolves, all Alphas or higher, and all the females were pregnant. Luna had truly blessed us.

And as I fell asleep, I was dreaming about holding twins in my arms again.