The Forgettable Miss French (Shadowvale Book 3)

by Kristen Painter

  “I don’t know. It’s…moving. Like it’s beckoning me to go after it.” He started forward. “Hang on. I’m going to see what it is.”

  She backtracked around a large, sooty oak, reaching the place he’d been standing, then cut through the brush to go after him. He’d almost disappeared into the trees. She went faster, trying to catch up, but got snagged on some brambles. “Be careful,” she called as she freed herself. “Not everything that glows in here is friendly.”

  Actually, nothing that glowed in the Dark Acres was friendly. Nothing she could think of anyway. The realization spurred her on. Sure, it could still be the book, but it could be a whole host of other things, too.

  The glow came into view in a small clearing up ahead. Easy blocked her view. She stepped to the side to see around him.

  The light was red and pulsating where it covered the side of a trunk. Not the book at all. Her breath caught in her throat as she realized what was giving off that light. “I don’t think this is a good idea. I doubt this has anything to do with the book.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “No, but call it a gut feeling.”

  He took one step deeper into the clearing and went still. “What are these things? Maybe the book is nearby.”

  She stayed where she was and kept her voice even. “Lightning bugs. Don’t disturb them. I’ve never seen them clustered like that. They might be protecting their queen or something. If the book is nearby, we’ll find it another way. Move slowly back toward me.”

  He took one step back. Then another. Then he stepped on a twig, cracking it. The horde lifted off the tree, the sizzle of electric stingers buzzing like mad.

  “Easy, run.”

  But it was too late. They swarmed him, a bright cloud of light and pain. Sparks cracked against his skin. He jerked and twitched at the stings, the image of his wolf flashing on his face as he tried to shift but failed. He swatted at them as best he could, but the attack was too much.

  With a snarl of pain, he dropped to the ground.

  “Get off him, you wretched things. Leave him alone.” She let out a sob, her hands itching to touch him, to pull him to safety, but if she went for him now, the insects would sting her, too. There was one way she could give herself a little protection.

  She shifted into her wolf, growling and snapping as she charged forward to drive them off.

  The lightning bugs rose, a few angry sparks cracking the air. She stood over Easy, protecting him from any further attack as best she could. A few dived at her, but her thick fur prevented her from getting more than a minor zap. At last they drifted off, leaving the acrid smell of ozone behind.

  She waited as long as she dared, long enough to be sure they were gone. Then she returned to her human form.

  “Easy, I’m here.” She knelt on the earth beside him and checked his pulse. He was alive. Covered in tiny, jagged red welts, but breathing. If he’d survived being struck by lightning, surely he could survive the stings of these creatures.

  At least that’s what Ginny chose to believe.

  She looked around one more time to make sure the bugs were really gone. She had to get him out of here. Out of the Dark Acres and back to a safer part of the forest. There was no telling if the lightning bugs would return.

  He moaned. His head rolled to one side.

  “Shh, it’s okay now. The lightning bugs are gone. But we should get out of here in case they come back.”

  He groaned something unintelligible.

  “Don’t worry, I got this. Just don’t fight me, okay?” She got him to a sitting position, pulled his arm around her shoulders, put her arm around his waist, then lifted him to his feet. “Good grief, you weigh a lot.”

  His only response was a grunt that might have been a yes.

  “I know, it’s all those muscles.”

  The banter was for his sake, to keep him engaged and hopefully prevent him from passing out completely again. He was a dead weight like this, lost to the pain of being stung so many times and in no position to help her move him. But she was a werewolf, and she was strong enough to carry him out like a baby if she had to.

  Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that.

  Holding on to him tightly, she got him moving. He shuffled like a sleepwalker, somewhere between consciousness and incoherence. Beyond an occasional groan or grunt, he said nothing.

  “Please be okay,” she whispered over and over.

  He never lifted his head, never responded. Maybe being semiconscious was the only way his body could deal with the pain. If so, that was okay with her. She just hated not knowing how he was doing.

  The trek back to the Jeep was a long one, but somehow he held on until she got him strapped into the passenger’s seat. She patted his chest. “You rest now.”

  He looked at her, and she thought he might say something. Then his eyes rolled back, and he passed out.

  She took a deep breath. This was her fault. Hers and that stupid book’s. She shook her head, mad at herself. The book probably didn’t even exist. This whole dumb trip had been pointless.

  “Hang in there, Easy. Please. We’re on the way home.”

  She jumped into the driver’s seat and turned the car around. Her gaze was divided between him and the road. She had no idea what the treatment was for lightning bug stings. She wasn’t sure if she should take him to the hospital or not.

  Better safe than sorry.

  She turned toward Shadowvale General. “Sorry, not headed home after all. I think a trip to the ER is a better idea. Just in case. Don’t worry, though, they’re fully equipped to handle all kinds of supernaturals and all kinds of emergencies. You’re not the first person that’s been stung either, so they’ll know what to do.”

  She drove as fast as was prudent, parking in front of the Emergency Room’s automatic double doors less than ten minutes later.

  She ran inside. “My friend was stung by lightning bugs in the Dark Acres. A swarm of them. All over. He’s passed out.”

  The nurse behind the desk looked up. “Lightning bugs? Not much we can do for him here. We can admit him, but all he needs is a day or two of rest. Wait. Is he human? Because if he is—”

  “No, werewolf.”

  “That’s good. It might not take him a full day to recover. I’d say let him sleep it off. He’ll be sore when he wakes up. Might have a little double vision, too. But all he needs are fluids and some aspirin. Not ibuprofen, aspirin. If the welts bother him, use hawthorn salve. You can get it at Spellbound on Main Street. They always have some made up.”

  “Really?” Ginny knew she had a skeptical look aimed at the nurse, but so what? “That’s it?”

  The woman smiled. “I promise. We can check him in if you want us to, but it’ll be an automatic overnight stay.”

  “No, that’s okay. I’ll take him home.” Easy probably wouldn’t enjoy coming to in a hospital bed. A forced day of rest when he could be writing? She didn’t want to be the cause of that. “Thanks.”

  “Sure thing. Take care. If his condition worsens, don’t hesitate to bring him back.”

  Ginny jogged back to the Jeep. Easy was still passed out. “All right. Home it is. I hope this is the right call.”

  No response from him as she got behind the wheel and pulled away from the hospital. Well, if he didn’t wake up in a couple of hours, she was ringing up Rico Martinez. Actually, she might do that anyway. He didn’t know her, but once she explained what had happened, he’d at least offer her some suggestions, wouldn’t he?

  If anyone knew what to do about a werewolf getting stung by lightning bugs, it had to be the alpha of the pack.

  But then, what if that conversation led to more about Easy than was her right to share? If Rico found out there was a new male wolf in town who hadn’t introduced himself, that might create trouble for Easy.

  Easy probably didn’t want to meet the pack alpha until he could be sure the creature he shifted into was definitely a wolf.

  Ginny loathed the tho
ught of creating trouble for him, so calling Rico was out. Easy had enough on his shoulders without her adding to the weight.

  She checked on him. Still passed out.

  Eyes back on the road, she sighed. “I guess we have to get through this together. Just the two of us. But I swear, if you get any worse, I’m taking you back to the hospital and you’re getting checked in.”

  Even if she had to introduce herself a thousand times to get him help.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Easy opened his eyes and saw two of everything. He blinked a few times, and the repeats started to fade. He was in his own bed. He felt like a pallet of bricks pressed him down, making it impossible for him to move, so he didn’t.

  How had he gotten here?

  It took a moment for his memory to return.

  A dark forest. A red glow. Bugs. Drawn to him. Zapping him with electricity. He’d tried to shift, to run, but each sting had frozen him in place. The pain had been excruciating to the point that he’d passed out. Worse than being struck by lightning, because it had lasted longer. He winced at the memory.

  But now he was here. In his own home. He had no recollection of how he’d gotten here. Had he been out there alone? A moment of hard thinking told him no, but he couldn’t recall the person he’d been with.

  Whoever it was, they had to be who’d saved him. He owed them.

  He lay there a moment longer, trying to shake the lethargy clinging to him.

  The shades were closed, but there was no light coming through them, and it felt late. Probably why the one bedside lamp was on.

  He tried to sit up, and the pain exploded through him, every nerve in his body going white hot with electric fire. He grunted, almost passing out again, and fell back to the mattress. He snarled at the bother of it all.

  He didn’t have time for this. He had a book to write.

  “Easy?” A voice called out to him, followed by a woman coming into his bedroom a few seconds later. “Hey, you’re awake.”

  “Yes.” He frowned. “How long was I out?”

  She looked at her watch. “Almost twelve hours. It’s nearly four a.m., but that’s pretty much what the ER nurse said would happen.”

  “You took me to the ER?”

  She nodded. “I did. I wasn’t sure what else to do. You were out cold. And I was worried. But the nurse said there wasn’t really anything they could do for lightning bug stings and just to bring you home and let you sleep it off. She did say you might have some double vision and that you’d be in a lot of pain. She said aspirin and fluids would help, plus hawthorn salve for the welts, which I went and got.”

  “I do have a little double vision. And every inch of me hurts.” More pain than he’d had in a long time. Since the lightning strike.

  She pointed toward the side of the bed. “The hawthorn salve is in that jar on the nightstand. I can help you with that if you want. But first, I’ll go get you some painkillers. Be right back.”

  Before he could say another word, she was out the door. He saw the jar of salve, but hurt too much to attempt putting any on. He closed his eyes. The pain permeated every inch of him, but he felt himself drifting back to sleep.

  “Here you go.”

  He opened his eyes. A woman stood over him with two bottles, one of water and one of pills. She put the water on his nightstand, then twisted the top off the aspirin and tapped two out into her palm.

  He blinked, thinking he’d passed out again.

  She held them out to him. “You need help taking these?”

  “No.”

  “You could take more. The shifter metabolism can certainly handle it, but let’s start with two and see how they work.”

  “Okay.” With great effort, he took the pills from her, lifted his head, and tossed them back. The pain from the movement was unbelievable. He breathed openmouthed, trying to get through it.

  She handed him the water bottle with the top off.

  He took a slow, careful drink and swallowed. Yep, everything hurt. He handed the bottle back.

  She took it and replaced the cap, then set it on his nightstand. “I guess maybe try to sleep some more if you can.”

  “Yeah, I think I will.”

  “Do you want me to put some of that salve on you?”

  “No, I’m okay.” He hesitated, studying her face. “Did you, uh, get me out of the woods?”

  “I did. Memory a little fuzzy?”

  “Not really, I just…” He stared at her pretty face a little longer. She had kind eyes. She was beautiful in a very pure, natural way that made him want to keep staring. “I just don’t know who you are.”

  She went pale as her mouth fell open and her eyes widened. Almost like she’d been struck. When she spoke, her voice was choked with emotion he didn’t understand. “I’m Ginny. Your next-door neighbor. Your friend.”

  “You live next door?” That was a bonus.

  She nodded. “Yes. I’ve been helping you all week get your house unpacked and things put away so you can write.”

  “You have? That’s nice of you.” No wonder there were no boxes in the bedroom.

  She took a long breath and swallowed as she knit her fingers together. Her hands were trembling. “You don’t remember me.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  She bit her bottom lip and looked like she might cry. “Excuse me.”

  She walked out and down the hall. Maybe into the…into the…he blinked and couldn’t remember what he’d been thinking about. That it was dark outside?

  A few soft sobs came from deeper in the house. His whole system went on alert. Someone was in his house. Someone who was…crying? Who would be in his house crying? And why were they crying?

  Was he…going to die? Were lightning bug stings fatal?

  A pretty woman came into his room. Her eyes were a little red. She must have been the one he heard crying. “Anything?”

  “Anything what?”

  “Do you remember anything?”

  “I remember being stung. But not how I got home.” He peered at her. “Who are you? My nurse?” But even saying that, he knew it wasn’t right. He just couldn’t place her.

  “I’m Ginny. Your neighbor. I brought you home. And I have been playing nurse a bit, so…” Her voice cracked, and she swallowed and looked at the floor. Like she was trying to find strength. Then she took a ragged breath, lifted her head, and smiled weakly. “I guess it was inevitable.”

  He didn’t know what she meant by that. “What was?”

  “This. You forgetting me. Don’t worry about it. There’s nothing you can do.” Her throat worked. “Nothing anyone can do.”

  What was going on?

  Her brows lifted. “Is there anything I can get you before I leave? You’ve already had two aspirin. Maybe I should write that down for you.”

  He didn’t want her to leave. But he didn’t know why. “Have you been here the whole time?”

  “Yes. I didn’t want to leave you alone in case you got worse. The woman at the ER made it seem like that was a possibility, so…” She shrugged.

  “You took me to the ER?”

  She just nodded, then took a breath.

  “That was kind of you.” As neighbors went, he’d hit the jackpot. Beautiful, kind, and nurturing. Wasn’t much more he could ask for.

  “That’s what friends do.”

  “We’re friends?” That implied they’d known each other for a while, not that they’d just met. So why couldn’t he remember her?

  “We are. Or we were. I’ve been in your house all week, getting you unpacked so you could work on your book.”

  “You’ve been here the whole week unpacking my house?”

  She swallowed like she was trying to keep her composure. “You moved in last week. That’s when we met. The day you arrived. Then your publisher moved the deadline of your book up with the promise of bonus money, and I offered to help you with the house when I wasn’t working on my own design stuff.”

  “You know
a lot about me.” He hadn’t told anyone else about the deadline change or the bonus money. There wouldn’t be any way for her to know, except that he’d told her. That made him think everything else she was saying was true, too.

  “Do you remember all of that, then?”

  “I do. Not the parts about you. But the book stuff.”

  Her smile wavered, nearly going flat. “I have a curse that makes people forget me. For a whole week, you didn’t. It was really nice. I shouldn’t have expected it to last. That was my fault. But at least I have the memories.”

  “That sounds terrible.”

  “It is.” She looked away. “Although I’m not sure if having those memories is a good thing or not…” She blew out a breath and laughed, an odd sound that held no mirth.

  “Tell me your name again?”

  “Ginny French. I live right next door. We’ve gone swimming in your pool together. Gone out to the pub in town.”

  “The pub…” Something came to him. An elusive memory that had no form or substance, but the feeling that he’d been to such a place seemed real.

  “Do you remember that?”

  “I don’t know. Sort of. But not. What did we do there?”

  “Had dinner. Then you had a little…problem.”

  He frowned. “What kind of problem?”

  “You saw a flyer on the bathroom bulletin board announcing the pub’s Full Moon Party, and you shifted. Do you remember that?”

  He squinted, trying to see into the past. The memory was a slippery eel of a thing, slithering out of his grasp just when he thought he had it. “Not fully.”

  “Your curse took over. You turned into a Yorkie. I got you home.”

  That unlocked something, and memories came tumbling through. He groaned and closed his eyes, humiliated all over again. “I remember.”

  “You do?” The excitement in her voice made him refocus on her.

  He grimaced. “I remember turning into a Yorkie. But I don’t remember you. I know I was there with someone, but every time I try to fix on their face—your face, I suppose—it’s a blur. It’s the same as when I think back to being in the forest, right before the swarm attacked me.”