Chapter 9: Secret ties

“Marshall.” I called out solemnly after failing to shush Gabriel. “I didn’t notice you coming.”

“Obviously!” He intoned, then rasped Gabriel’s name.

“Mr. Washington, I have gotten the address. Thanks for stopping by.”

My throat tightened. I heard Gabriel swallow loudly, and when my eyes darted to his face, a narrow stream of sweat was streaking down the side of his ear.

“Get in,” Marshall ordered, and went round to the driver’s seat. The rumble of the engine shook through my bones before it made me scramble into the car.

He drove past green groves, fast enough that the trees blurred into a single green wall. His fingers were clenched white around the steering wheel while driving. The hum of other vehicles faded behind us, and just then, he slammed the brakes.

The tyres screeched. The Maybach fishtailed, the back end swinging before the brakes caught and the car shuddered to a stop. My seatbelt cut into my chest and my stomach dropped as if the road had disappeared beneath us.

I tried to steady my breathing but my jaw hung open. Dust and smoke rose around the car in thick, suffocating columns that burned my throat and stung my eyes.

I reached for the door handle, but Marshall's hand landed hard on mine. I glanced his way, my left hand clearing the dust from my face.

“I have to get out.”

“Are you afraid you’re going to die here? That I’m going to kill you…”

“Marshall…” I paused, my breath catching in my throat.

In the smoke, as the dust began to settle, I saw it.

Outside my window, a hand dipped down through the haze. The fingers were too long. The nails were thick and curved, like claws. Brown fur covered the back of the hand, coarse and wet with sweat.

Then it started to change.

The fur did not vanish. It sank. Strand by strand it pulled back into the skin. The claws shortened, the tips splitting and softening until they were nails again. I heard the knuckles crack, one by one, as the fingers shrank back to a normal length. 

I blinked but it was still there in my sight. The wrist thinned, and I watched the veins rise to the surface like human ones.

It was a beastly arm becoming human in front of me.

I gasped and Marshall turned. Before I could meet his gaze, his lips smashed against mine. He breathed into me like he was performing mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, hard and desperate, his face blocking my view of the window completely, while his tongue didn't attempt to meet mine.

My hand flew to his chest, with a primal urge to unbutton his shirt. I didn’t.

Instead, I hit his chest until he withdrew. Not because I didn’t want it. This body… Lizzie’s body, wanted him. My skin stayed hot where he had touched me, my breath ragged, and my hands did not want to let go, even while I was pushing him away.

“What was that for?”

“We are married, remember? Besides, you looked like you were out of breath. Can’t say I’m surprised, since you and your boyfriend have plans to smother your own sister…”

That word stuck in my ears. He hadn't let go. It felt like I would be punished for Gabriel's indiscretion.

"Marshall, I saw…" I started, but my mind was already racing. 

“Enough, Elizabeth.” He droned and turned the key in the ignition. I dipped my head, scared he might run him over.

When I glanced at where it was, the dust had settled completely, the smoke was a thin mist but the ground was… vacant.

“Something was there. I’m very sure.” I said to myself, as Marshall steered away. The scene replayed in my head. Convinced it wasn’t my imagination, I leaned back on the seat and peered into the side window.

And there it was by the side of the road, head against a tree, brown fur glistening under the midday sun, and then came a low growl that made my chest ache. 

It was a wolf. If my guess was right, Marshall had put our lives at risk to save it.

I pressed my thumb hard against the cold glass of the window and counted the trees as we passed them. I memorised the bend in the road, the broken fence along the way, weathered to the bricks, and then I replayed the image of the tree where the wolf lay in my head. If I ever had to find my way back here on foot, I would know this place. No one, including Marshall can take that away from me.

Exactly two hours later, he pulled up before a gigantic black gate, about five metres high. A large skull engraving occupied the centre of the gate, like it was seated on a mountain. It was eerily quiet, with nothing but groves that spread out for several metres, spanning a massive landmass, as neighbours.

“This does not look like a morgue, Marshall.” I remarked, and hid my trembling hand by my side in the car.

“Welcome to my family’s home,” he said indifferently, like he wasn’t the same man who had kissed me earlier.

“Or did he just do that to keep the wolf from my sight?” I reasoned, and shook my head. By then, Marshall had gotten down from the Maybach and was strutting inside with a leisurely pace.

I got out and called out to him. “I said I needed to meet my sister. You have the address of the morgue. You should have taken me there.”

His footsteps paused. He didn’t turn. He glanced at the side and sniggered before walking inside.

I looked around. I was in the middle of nowhere, with no idea which direction would take me to my true body. I have to put up with him for now. Just for now.

I followed his trail and entered. Once inside, my eyes narrowed in a daze. Rows of lilies lined the entrance, their scent thick in the air around me. A fountain was ahead, and a wolf sculpted to life stood at the centre, water spilling from its open jaws. There were no cars around. Not a single one. Too odd for a mansion with marble walls and rhinestones glittering on the main entrance. Especially for a family like the Bronzebanks.

I stopped by the fountain, reached out and pressed my palm flat against the cold marble of the wolf statue. It was colder than the air, colder than it should have been in the midday sun. I let my fingers linger there for one second, feeling the carved fur under my skin, memorising the texture like it could turn out to be the wolf I saw earlier.

Few steps away from the main entrance, laughter rippled. Among those voices, I recognised the velvety ring of Diana's voice.

“She's here already.” I exhaled, and prepared myself for the worse. But the second everyone saw me, a quiet cheer welcomed me. The dinning was set. Marshall had taken a seat next to Diana like it was all planned, and the five elders in the room looked at me like a saviour, eyes misty with gratitude.

I was still scanning the room when one of the elders, a brunette who looked like a retired supermodel in her champagne gold designer dress. 

“I can't thank you enough for all the sacrifices you have made so my son can marry his heartthrob.” She said with a smile.

I returned her smile and then it hit me. “Marry his heartthrob?” I quizzed. “Marshall is getting married… again?”