Unforgiven (Wanderers #3) (18 page)

“Why would you automatically think I did something?”
I asked, not happy about her blaming me. She didn’t even bother to
give me a response. Instead she just looked down her nose at
me.

That was it. That was the last straw. “What is your
problem?” I asked Deirdre, fuming.

Caleb stopped what he was doing and Tristan froze mid
bite.
“Didn’t you ever hear the
expression don’t poke the
bear,”
he thought.

I didn’t care anymore. I was tired of this old bat
constantly looking down at me. “Caleb, Tristan, leave us,” Deirdre
said. A small surge of panic shot through me.

I looked to Tristan for help. “Nice knowing ya,” he
whispered, before kissing me on the cheek, and leaving, pie in
hand. I wanted to yell at him for leaving me alone with her and
tell him if he really loved me as much as he claimed he wouldn’t
have just sacrificed me to his grandmother.

Deirdre stared at me from across the table before
getting up and reaching for a bottle on top of the fridge. I was
surprised her short stubby arms could reach that high. She put the
bottle on the table along with two small glasses and then had a
seat. She twisted off the cap, poured some brown liquid into the
two glasses, and then slid one over to me. “Drink,” she said.

I reluctantly took the glass and held it up to my
lips. I glared at her before I took a sip. The instant the liquid
hit my throat it burned. I had to hide my expression from Deirdre,
knowing if I made a face she’d disapprove. I put the glass down,
not wanting to swallow any more of this horrid beverage. Deirdre
made a disgusted noise at me and then gulped down the clear brown
liquid like it was water. She put her glass down and refilled it,
challenging me to finish mine.

Never one to back down from a challenge, I picked up
my glass, and swallowed whole. I held my breath and prayed that I
could keep it down. I slammed my glass on the table and smirked at
her. She poured me another cup and smiled.

Crap.

I gulped the next one down in one sip and had to hold
onto the chair. Oh how it burned. It took everything I had not to
gag. She smiled at me pouring both her and me another glass. “What
is this stuff?” I asked, reaching for the bottle.

She pulled the bottle away from me. Not in the mood
to deal with her bullshit, I wiggled my fingers at the bottle
causing it to slide across the table to me. I gave her a smart ass
look and she just glared at me. I turned the bottle around to look
at the label. Irish whiskey, that explained a lot. It was going to
be a long night.

She waited for me to take the next shot. So I did,
proving to her I was no softie. We sat there silently for a moment,
just staring at each other. Having enough of the silence, I said,
“Why do you hate me so much? You don’t even know me.” She finished
her drink and then filled up her glass again, not speaking. “Look,
if you’re not even going to answer me then please stop wasting my
time.”

“Such a mouth for a girl who’s supposed to be queen,”
she said, eyeing me. Okay now I knew she was crazy.

“What are you talking about?”

“You are Ella McCallister are you not? Daughter of
Lasirian?”

“Yeah, no. My dad’s name is Liam.”

She ignored my comment and continued her rant. “It’s
a shame Alexander bowed down. He would have made a better
ruler.”

“Wait, how’d you even –” I stopped myself, afraid I
might say too much. I didn’t know how much she knew, but I’d like
to keep my so called royal status to myself if I could. “I have no
idea what you are talking about.”

She laughed at my sad attempt to hide I knew she was
talking about. “How I know is not your concern.”

“Like hell it isn’t.” I stood up, not able to take it
anymore. My sense of calm was long gone and any chance of me
pretending I was someone else was shot out the window.

She didn’t even flinch. She just sat there smiling
and sipping her drink. “If the fate of our people is in your hands
we’re all screwed.”

Having enough I turned to walk away, but she stopped
me. It was like there was an invisible wall in front of me. “Ugh!
Let me go!” I yelled.

“Sit,” she said.

“Why, so you can berate me some more? I get enough of
that from my father.”

“Sit,” she growled. Having no other choice I turned
around and sat back down crossing my arms. She poured some more
whiskey into my glass and pushed it forward. I took it and slammed
the glass back down on the table. “I don’t hate you Ella. I just
think you’re not…” she paused as I waited for the punch to the gut.
“Ready,” she said, looking at me over her glass.

That, I did not expect. “Ready for what?”

“That, I cannot tell you.”

“Quit the cryptic bullshit,” I said aggravated.

“Again with the mouth.” She finished off her drink
and then topped off her glass. “I guess some of us never learn.”
Tired of the run around I was about to say something when she
continued. “You can love more than one.” I swallowed. Either this
woman was psychic or had some very good spies out there like my
dad. “It’s not an easy task, but it is possible.” I slumped back in
the chair totally taken off guard.

“We may not agree, but I believe either of my
grandsons would be lucky to have someone who cares as much as you
do. Although I feel one may need you more than you think.”

“Wait…what?” I said confused. “I think you had a few
too many. Josef and I…it’s not like that. We’re friends.”

She just smiled like she knew some secret I didn’t,
which wouldn’t be too far off considering I didn’t know what she
was talking about half the time. “Ella, you are very young and you
have a lot to learn. In time you will come to find out you have a
lot of hard decisions to make. While I know you will make a lot of
wrong decisions before you make the right ones,” I narrowed my
eyes. “You and only you will be the one who can decide what is
right.” She leaned forward in her chair. Her face inches from mine.
“You’re the one who’s going to change everything.”

She sat back, proud of herself. “Again with the
cryptic,” I said, annoyed, taking another sip of my drink. “Could
you just please cut the crap for once?”

She got up and got in my face. “A princess does not
talk back to her elders,” she said like I should have known
better.

“I’m not a princess,” I glared.

“Yes you are and the sooner you realize that the
sooner you can stop pretending.”

“Pretending what?” I asked exasperated. I slammed my
head down on the table getting a headache from this conversation
and I was sure the whiskey wasn’t helping.

She lifted my head up by pulling at the back of my
hair. If I had any energy I would have slapped her hand away, but I
was also afraid she might take a chunk of my hair with her and put
a curse on me. “Pretending you’re not good enough because as much
as you don’t want to admit it you are.” She let go of my hair and
my head smacked down hard on the table.

I rubbed my forehead as she sat back down. Then I put
the cool glass against my throbbing head. I looked at her as she
raised her glass to me. I didn’t understand this woman, but for
some reason she knew me. She actually reminded me a little bit of
my grandma Bea. I guess I should just be thankful she hasn’t tried
to hit me over the head with a shovel and bury me in the
garden.

I finished off my glass and sat there while Deirdre
refilled it. We both sat there silently for a moment, studying each
other. Whatever issues I had with her were not going to go away and
vice versa, but whatever just happened, I think somehow we managed
to come to an understanding. A small one, but I would take what I
could get. I decided the best way to go was to push everything
aside and talk like normal people. “So, can you teach me that spell
where you knocked me on my ass?”

She laughed. “That, I cannot. You need not worry with
little spells.”

“Little spell?” I said and she laughed again, clearly
showing the alcohol was hitting her.

“The power you possess alone would have been enough
to block my spell, but you don’t know how to properly use it.”

“That, I do not,” I admitted.

“Tell me. What do you plan to do now that you found
Tristan?”

“Go…” I was going to say home, but then I remembered
I wasn’t sure if I was welcome there. Then I thought about school,
but from what my dad had said they had to pull some strings to get
me back in and according to him I was no longer a part of the
family. I was pretty sure they stopped helping me get back into
school. “I’m not sure exactly.”

Deirdre got up and left the room. I was starting to
learn that was a bad habit of hers and just decided to sit and
wait. She returned shortly with a photo album and plopped back down
in her chair. She opened it up and pushed it toward me. I looked
down at the first picture. A baby with coal black, wavy hair and
the deepest blue eyes stared right back at me. “Is this Tristan?” I
asked and she nodded. I might be biased, but Tristan was probably
the most beautiful baby I’d ever seen.

I continued to flip through the pages as she sat
there quietly sipping her drink. I flipped to a page where Tristan
looked to be about five and he was dressed up as a witch. I had to
stifle my laugh. I looked down at the bottom of the page where
there was another picture of him and Deirdre standing in front of a
cauldron. “He wanted to be just like his grandma,” she said,
smiling at the memory.

I flipped through the next couple of pages. All
pictures of Tristan and his family. In the middle of the book was a
picture of a woman in a wedding dress. She looked to be about only
sixteen. She had beautiful, long, black hair, a petite figure, and
her eyes. Something about her eyes made her so much older than she
looked. “Is this you?”

“Yes. That was the day I married the love of my
life.” For the first time ever I think I saw affection in her eyes.
“My looks may have changed a bit since then.” She eyed me, waiting
for a witty reply, but I kept my mouth shut and the smile off my
face. We continued to look through the album and drink. She told me
stories of Tristan growing up and for the first time I heard
Deirdre laugh, a real genuine laugh. I didn’t know if it was the
booze or not, but I didn’t care. Deirdre and I had found something
we had in common. We both cared deeply for Tristan.

As if he knew we were talking about him, he walked
into the kitchen. “How’s it going in here?” he asked, like he half
expected to walk into a blood bath.

“Oh your grandmother was just showing me pics of you
when you were little.”

He sighed relieved and leaned over the back of my
chair to look at the album. “Ella, what are you drinking?” He
picked up my glass and sniffed it.

“Whiskey,” I shrugged.

“Nan, this isn’t your homemade whiskey is it?”

“Why would I get that cheap watered down stuff when I
have this?” She raised her glass and finished what was left
inside.

“Is it hot in here?” I suddenly felt very warm.

“How much did you drink?” Tristan asked
concerned.

“I dunno,” I shrugged.

“Why don’t we take you outside and get you some air,”
he said, helping me up.

“I can stand on my own, thank you.” I slapped his
hand away and went to stand up. He should have known better and so
should have I. I hadn’t realized how much I drank until I tried to
stand. I felt like my chair was pulled out from underneath me. The
room was slowly spinning. I fell back on my heel, slipping, and
then falling flat on my ass. Deirdre began to laugh hysterically. I
just glared at her.

Tristan peeled me up off the floor. “Come on, let’s
get you some air,” he said, steadying me. Once he knew he had a
good grip on me, he looked back over his shoulder at his
grandmother. “Really Nan, I can’t believe you let her drink this
much. You know anyone who has your whiskey for the first time has
to consume it gradually.”

“Please, she’s Irish and a Wanderer. If she can’t
handle my whiskey then she doesn’t belong here,” she growled.

“This is like some kind of test, isn’t it?” I
slurred, looking at Deirdre. “God, you are such a bitch.”

Tristan froze, not believing I just said that.
Deirdre and I looked at each other and then started cracking up
laughing. Tristan was confused but took it as a good thing and
picked me up knowing this could take a while if I tried to walk.
“Hey, what are those glowing things?” I asked, as he carried me out
the door.

“Nan, you are in big trouble,” he called over his
shoulder.

“Do you see them?” I whispered, afraid if I spoke too
loudly I would scare them away. I reached out to touch the tiny,
sparkling orbs that were floating by.

Tristan laid me down on one of the lounge chairs out
back. “How do you feel?”

“A little strange,” I said, my eyes following the
orbs. “But in a good way.” I reached out to touch them. I just
wanted to catch one.

“Ella,” Tristan said, reaching for my hand. “There’s
nothing there. It’s just the magic,” he said softly.

“Magic?”

“Yes. Nan’s whiskey is magically enhanced, I guess
you could say.”

“That dirty little –”

He cut me off. “What did you two talk about in
there?”

“I’m too tired. Can’t you just bite me and find
out?”

“No. I can’t.”

I sat up and then quickly realized that might not
have been such a good idea. “Why not?” I asked, grabbing my
head.

“It’s the drink, because of what my Nan puts in it.
It wouldn’t be a good idea,” he said, rubbing my temples.

“She’s a sneaky little witch,” I said, lying back
down.

Tristan watched me. He delicately brushed a piece of
hair off my face making my whole body tingle. The look in his eyes
made my heart melt. I wanted to reach up and touch him, but I
couldn’t seem to make my arm move, it was too much effort. Instead
I just stared into his beautiful blue eyes and smiled. “I have a
surprise for you. You think you can stand?”