The Revelation

For three days, Wren lay in a bed that wasn’t hers. She didn’t care about the plush comforter or adjustable mattress, nor did she care about any of the food Anika or Kerri brought to her. When they returned, the water glass was empty, but not a morsel was eaten.

She stared at the ceiling, tracing shapes where there were none and outlining shadows reflected through the window. Even Brutus offered little comfort. The poor dog tried to talk with her, but his person never said a word. She only sighed and turned over after patting his head.

This was my fault, she thought. For years, she hadn’t trusted the Iron Oath, but ignored it. Every word Jacob said to her was outwardly accepted as truth, though Wren knew it was an attempt at manipulation. Somewhere inside, there was still a hope she could make a change. A difference.

Isaac was the only person who knew that. He supported her decision, even though he didn’t agree with it. In the end, Isaac was the one to die for it.

So many questions ran through her mind. Did Jacob know she had the information? Did he know what Oliver would do? Is that why he went after Isaac? To keep Wren quiet?

Erin was in a partial shift. How that happened was a mystery to everyone. It was likely Erin who attacked Isaac. The poor woman did not know what she was doing. Between the sedatives and odd drugs she and Isaac both had in them, there was no control over her body or mind. The illegal hunt pinned on Isaac and Erin — did Jacob do that same thing to another Werewolf? Did someone else do it?

Wren sighed, burying her face in the pillow and squeezing her eyes shut. The anger she felt toward herself was overwhelming. It made her feel queasy inside and wished someone would punch her or worse. The willful ignorance deserved to be punished.

She should have quit. Left the Iron Oath and lived a normal life as a Druid. It would never have worked. Jacob or others would come after her. Wren would have been locked away somewhere, probably with the same fate as Isaac, Erin, and so many Others.

The bed settled on one end, making Wren roll over and squint at the person sitting there. It was still dark in the room, but she could make out the silhouette of Oliver’s square shoulders. He lay down on the bed with his legs hanging off the side, and Brutus hopped up next to him.

“You can’t blame yourself for this. It does no good.” He said.

Wren didn’t answer.

“Wren.” Oliver said. “None of this was your fault. I saw this case file before I came to the offices. It had nothing to do with you.”

“Why did he go after Isaac?” She whispered.

“They want strength. Strength and leadership. When leaders disappear, the Others get scared. The Iron Oath wants that. It’s why I came in.” He answered. “Isaac was a target because of his strength. So was Erin. South Florida is unruly. There are too many Others and not enough Agents. Staging an illegal hunt and going at the Werewolves was planned without you in mind.”

“Just you.” Wren scowled. “They brought you in to kill people.”

“Yes.” Oliver shrugged. “I don’t deny it.”

“Remind me why you’re here.” Wren said.

“I believe I just did.”

Wren sighed. “Here. In Florian’s house. With us. Why aren’t you doing what the Iron Oath tells you to? Like always.”

“I have a vacation.” His smirk carried into his voice, making Wren throw the comforter off of her and sit up on the bed. She turned her back to him with an exasperated sigh.

“I wish I could explain it. Why.” Oliver paused, letting a dark laugh escape. “That question. It’s asked too many times. Why? I hear it before I kill someone, and I ask the same thing. I want to tell them. I want to tell you. But I can’t. Not yet.”

“What can you tell me? Or are you just here to run back to the higher ups and tell them everything?” Wren said.

Oliver sighed. “Do you think I’d tell them I gave you all of this information? No. I’d be dead five times before I walked through a door. To tell you the truth, I didn’t know I’d be giving it to you. When I was told I had to come to Florida, I knew Florian lived here. My plan was to hand it to him. It took me years to gather everything, and I kept it a secret.”

“When I saw you checking Isaac’s records, I knew you were suspicious. You didn’t trust them. I couldn’t trust Florian, but I could trust you. Isaac would have been taken regardless of what I did. It was already set in motion.”

Wren stared at her leggings. They’d been on for three days and were covered in brown dog hair. She picked one off, flicking it in the air. “Do you know what they did to him?”

“I don’t know what caused it.” Oliver said.

“What am I supposed to do now?” Wren put her hand over her mouth, choking back a sob. “Isaac was all I had. I don’t have good friends. The Others don’t want me. They…”

“They have you staying in their home. Sandy has been here every day asking for you. Anika brings you food, and Florian continues to worry. Brian Neason has called five times, asking Florian if you’re well.” Oliver said. “Things change. Embrace it.”

She stayed quiet, running her hand over Brutus’ head until the poor dog got annoyed and moved away with a frown. He laid on his side, pressing against her after letting out a long, contented sigh. It was funny she should have an affinity for canines, considering the man who became her family was technically one of them.

Werewolves ran in packs. Tied together by a bond closer than blood. A bond that started before the world was known. Werewolves lived together in the same neighborhoods, worked with each other, ate and laughed with each other. They were a family of their own. Vampires had a strange way of showing their ties, but they were a family too. They squabbled and fought more than the rest, but in the end, they stuck together.

It was no different with Druids. Because Druids are not turned but born, they shared a special bond. One that transcended social class, ethnicity, and religion. The knowledge they were all in the same boat, and shared the same thoughts and feelings.

Though she didn’t trust her, Sandy welcomed Wren into her home. She helped her when no one else would, and didn’t think of the consequences. The two had never been friends or even friendly, but their bond was instant. Because they were the same. They were The Others.

Wren wiped away a few tears. “I wish I saw all of this before.”

“You had perfect timing.” Oliver said.

“Did I, or did you?” She asked.

He grabbed her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Wren. If your timing wasn’t right, mine wouldn’t be either. I have to go soon. I’ll be back.”

“Where are you going?” She asked.

“Business.” He answered. “The Iron Oath is scrambling. They are getting ready to go into hiding.”

“They know what you did.” She said.

He nodded. “They do. Someone’s going to kill me for it. I’ll likely take a few with me before I let it happen.”

“Why didn’t they storm this place?” Wren asked.

Oliver chuckled. “That would not be wise. Florian and Anika are powerful, and they have strong friends. Going after any of us on our own terms would be a mistake. They’re waiting for your next move, and waiting to lure all of us away. Be careful.”

“Are you really coming back?” She asked. “Or are you going to get yourself killed?”

“I don’t have any plans to die this visit.” He said. “If it happens, I made a mistake.”

Wren finally smiled, shaking her head back and forth. “You’re so cocky. I can’t stand it.”

“You love it.” He grinned, kissing her on the top of her head before standing up. “Clean up. There are people waiting for you, including a confused human who needs answers. Take my word for it, Wren. Don’t leave the living alone in favor of the dead.”

When Oliver left, Wren reached over and turned the lamp on, able to appreciate the luxurious accommodation Florian and Anika offered her. It was like an upscale hotel room with a bed as large as her own bedroom at home. Ten fluffy pillows covered one side, and the crumpled comforter was silky. An old wardrobe was open a couple of inches. One of Wren’s outfits hung up on a satin lined hanger. She wasn’t happy knowing someone went to her house and got her some clothes, but also thankful that they did.

The attached bathroom was like a palace. Golden knobs opened up the faucet, filling the oversize claw-foot tub. Body wash that smelled of juniper, and the warm summer sun created a froth of bubbles on the water’s surface. The bath was cleansing in several ways. Wren dipped her head under the water, sitting for a moment as she listed to the quiet rush surrounding her ears.

Water. Never still, and never stagnant. No matter what anyone said. It moved and flowed even in the smallest containment. Water was one of the most precious elements, giving life, taking life, and washing everything clean.

She emerged from the tub feeling more clean than she had in a very long time. A soft towel wrapped around her body, and Wren stared at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were still red and puffy from so much crying. She looked to see if someone brought her make-up bag with them. The few cosmetics she owned would have concealer among the lipstick and mascara. That would cover it up.

“No.” She said to her reflection. “I don’t need to hide it. Not anymore.”

Though she could not hear or see Florian and Anika, somehow, Wren felt their smiles. They heard her. And they knew what was coming. At least, they knew in part. Not one of them had any idea what was really in store for The Others and the Iron Oath.