The Revelation
The Send Off

The day of Isaac’s funeral arrived with a thunder coming from hundreds of motorcycles escorting the casket to its final resting place. Werewolves from all over the State came to pay their respects, creating a line that snaked out of the cemetery and around the curve of the road. Someone brought a speaker along, setting it next to the casket. Soft guitars and a soulful voice sang a ballad about loss and gain. It was Isaac’s favorite song. Fitting it should be played at his funeral.

Wren stood with the crowd, fighting to get a glimpse of the casket. A spray of white flowers sat on top of the polished wood with a black ribbon over it, wishing for Isaac to ride free forever. A small model of Isaac’s motorcycle was attached to the spray, and his cracked leather vest laid across the bottom of the casket.

People spoke up, sharing memories and stories of Isaac while the breeze quieted and the birds seemed to mourn the man. It was like nature itself knew to keep a reverence for the crowd under a blue tent that marked a new grave site. Erin Neason stood near the casket with a sling holding a broken arm. Her eyes were red and swollen as she told how Isaac welcomed her and Brian into the pack, and how he helped Brian replace a job when they moved to Florida. Her voice cracked when she spoke of their last moments together, and her husband wrapped his arms around her, dwarfing the woman as she cried into his chest.

The crowd quieted when the officiant asked if anyone else had words to say. Sandy took hold of Wren’s hand, jerking it toward the front, but Wren shook her head. The last thing any Werewolf wanted was to hear an Iron Oath Agent speak after what they did to Isaac. Sandy left her no choice, pushing Wren away from the line of people and nearly into the casket itself.

She cleared her throat, shaking off the glares and likely homicidal thoughts of everyone in attendance. “Isaac was my best friend. We were close since High School. There’s so many things I could say about him. Most of them, you all have said. I was with him when his son Emilio was born…”

Isaac’s son bowed his head at Wren’s words, smiling at the woman he’d grown to know as a member of the family. Every person in the crowd leaned away from Wren with their arms crossed over their chests. She prepared herself for the oncoming firing squad, knowing that they might beat her to death if she continued to talk.

“I was there for his divorces. When he opened his shop. And I…” She let out a shuddering sigh. “I ignored his warnings when I took my first job. He was smart. So smart. People always underestimated him because he was just a Werewolf with a motorcycle. But Isaac was so much more than that. Look at this crowd of people. Look at everyone he touched.

“We all know what and who caused this. I’m sorry for my part in it. I won’t ever take part in it again. But I am going to fight it, and make sure no one ever goes through what we’ve all gone through.”

A quiet murmur of anger ran through the crowd. Whispers of accusations grew louder until people called to Wren, asking what she’d done to Isaac and what happened. She looked around at the faces, twisted with grief and anger. Even a former Iron Oath Agent would be target number one.

Everyone seemed to push in closer until Wren found herself backed up against the casket. She rested her hands on the smooth wood, knowing she could be tossed into that grave along with Isaac. She probably deserved it.

A cold hand took hold of hers, and Erin stood next to Wren. “Shut up, you assholes! I was there, remember? Wren saved us. If she didn’t come with help, I’d be dead too! She didn’t do anything to Isaac. She tried to help him! If we’re going to listen to anyone right now, it’s the person who knew him best! Now shut up!”

“I don’t know what else to say. I’m with you. All of you. Us.” Wren closed her eyes. “I’m a Druid. Some of you didn’t know that. It’s why Isaac and I were so close. We met at school and stayed friends ever since. I’m not letting his death go without someone paying for it.”

The group seemed to calm, but many pairs of eyes still glared at Wren when she rejoined Sandy near a small line of Druids. Some of them Wren recognized from quick meetings. India was a woman from Norway with white blond hair and a complexion like porcelain. She was also the Druid who worked out at the outdoor gym near Wren and avoided her. Ronan and his husband Kevin were the perfect example of opposites attracting. Kevin was a slight man with sandy hair and glasses. Ronan was large and muscular, with dark hair and eyes.

They parted when Wren walked back to them, closing in around her as if they were protecting one of their own. The woman broke down in tears, burying her face in her hands. After everything she had been part of, her own still accepted her as one of them. Even in the face of such a volatile situation. In her mind, Wren saw Isaac smiling and making a joke about how long it took her to finally join the fold.

A few more spoke up about Isaac, and the service ended. Groups still milled around the site, shaking hands, offering hugs and well wishes. Wren stood alone, watching the spray on the casket wilt in the warm Florida sunset. She brushed her fingers over one of the petals, making the entire flower burst back to life, glowing like a rising sun.

“Wren.” Erin touched her shoulder. “I want to thank you. For helping me.”

“I should have said or done something sooner.” Wren said.

Brian shook his head. “You brought my wife back alive. I owe you for that. If you need anything…”

“It’s OK.” Wren said.

“We’ve got a party at the dealership.” Said Erin. “A celebration of Isaac’s life. You should come.”

“I don’t think I’d be the most welcome person.” Wren said.

“If you change your mind, the door’s open.” Brian said.

The couple walked away with Erin’s good arm linked in Brian’s. More people left until only two or three remained. The men who had a job to do waited patiently at the side of the grave, having respect for the friends and family who came to mourn.

When the last person swung a leg over their bike, Wren walked to a nearby stone bench. An angelic statue looked over the bench, smiling at the years of grief left behind on that carved stone. The sun dipped behind the horizon, turning the flat cemetery a shade of gray that Wren felt she was imagining.

She knew she should go to Florian’s and stay safe with everyone else. Kerri was waiting on her, and she would probably come looking if Wren didn’t get back soon. Once the sun fully set, the Vampires of South Florida would trickle in to say their goodbyes to Isaac. Like the Werewolves, they would have a lot to say to her. Even with Florian and Anika defending her.

“I’m sorry.” The voice was next to her, breaking through the heavy silence like a foghorn.

“Jesus!” Wren jumped from the bench. “What are you thinking, Oliver? Did you want to kill me with a heart attack?”

“No.” He shrugged. “I’d like you to stay alive.”

She sighed, sinking back into the uncomfortable seat. “What are you doing?”

“Paying my respects before the rest come. I shouldn’t be here when they are.” He said.

“Neither should I.”

Oliver turned to her. “Wren, I am sorry. I didn’t plan for this. I hoped we could save them. Both of them.”

“How long have you known about this happening?” Wren asked.

“Too long.” Oliver shifted in his seat.

“Why didn’t you do anything? Why didn’t you save people?” She asked.

“Reasons I can’t explain.” Oliver said. “Do what I can’t. Expose them. Expose them to the world. It’s our only hope.”

“Our?” Wren raised her eyebrows.

“Yes. Our. Exposing them will help The Others. Us.”

She stared at the mound of dirt over the fresh grave. “Do we deserve to be saved after what we’ve done?”

“You do.” Oliver said. “And I’ll make sure you are.”

Three months later, the world news was aflame with accusations against the Iron Oath. After Isaac’s funeral, Florian held a meeting with the leaders through the entire State. The documents Wren had were shown to everyone, and they decided on what to do — take it to the public. It was a risk for all of them, but worth it.

At first, many in the public didn’t believe it. The Iron Oath started a furious campaign, denying the accusations and claiming no wrongdoing. As offices closed, and higher ups disappeared from the media attention, people wondered.

It was a slow trickle over a couple of weeks, bringing out new leaked information every day. Reporters across the country picked up on the stories. Then, it wandered into the other continents, spreading like wildfire. Some staunch supporters of the Iron Oath and control of The Others refused to believe it, but most humans were enraged over centuries of deceit.

Public protests shut down Iron Oath offices across the world. Supporters clashed with The Others. Violence broke out in some cities, and silent vigils were carried out in other places. Victims of the Iron Oath came out in public, asking what happened to their missing family members.

Arrests were made. Indictments handed down. The Iron Oath went into hiding.

Wren watched the television at Florian’s, looking at a reporter who stood in front of the automatic doors that once took Wren in to the cold cell every day. The doors were locked, and all lights off in the building. Some of the picture windows were smashed in, and graffiti on the side of the building told the world what sort of people had once occupied it.

“Indictments continue to roll in as the video evidence against the Iron Oath is leaked from unknown sources. Police in Miami, Los Angeles, and London are still searching for high ranking Agents who have disappeared from sight. Among them are Neil Bowman, Lisa Delphine, and Jacob Stuart of the Miami Dade offices. The Miami Dade Police department is asking for anyone with information on Jacob Stuart to call Crime Stoppers immediately. I’m Carlos de la Rosa, Channel seven news. Miami.”

Kerri threw the remote at the TV, flopping onto the couch with a loud sigh. “Jacob hasn’t been arrested yet.”

“I didn’t think he could disappear like that.” Wren said.

The thought of Jacob Stuart being at large made Wren feel like someone was watching her. His stormy eyes peered through the darkened window, staring at both her and Kerri. He may not have been at Florian’s house, but he was somewhere, and the two former Agents were likely his newest target.