Love Gone Viral Read online

  He gave a nod. “I, too, am Vallen. I thought you knew that. That’s why you called me.”

  “No! You came recommended, but I didn’t realize that was why.” She gave him a smile. “It makes sense, though.”

  “I’m not associated with Fire or Air. I have a talent with herbs, growing things,” he admitted. His voice was slightly muffled by his mask. She rather longed to hear what it might sound like without it and wondered what he actually looked like.

  All she could see of him was his dark, curling hair. It was pulled back into a queue that reached nearly to his shoulder blades. He had neglected to remove his long, black leather overcoat, but still, Susanna could see that his shoulder were quite broad. And his voice… it was deep and soothing. She imagined how wonderful it would sound were it not for his mask.

  She suddenly realized he was waiting for her to respond while her mind had been wondering. “You’re associated with Earth?” she asked.

  He nodded again.

  “I’m associated with Air, so I am able to keep myself protected somewhat from the.. the miasma you use your mask to protect yourself from,” she admitted.

  “Ahh, that makes sense.” He paused and turned to her. “You can control the air?”

  She nodded.

  “Could you… can you protect me as well while I am here with you?”

  “Of course!” she said, perhaps too quickly. Why she was so eager to see what was behind his mask, she didn’t know, but there it was. She moved closer to him, concentrating a little harder on the air around them. “It is safe to remove your mask and… and your coat should you wish to do so.”

  He wrapped a gloved hand around the beak and pulled it up and off his head. He tilted his head up and took a deep, relieved breath of air. “Thank you! It’s rather difficult to breathe through that.”

  “And I imagine it gets quite warm,” Susanna said. Oh, yes, she was very, very glad he had removed his mask. It had revealed a face that, while flushed, was very nice to gaze upon. His cheekbones were high, his chin pleasantly strong, and his lips… Susanna quickly turned her gaze away from his lips, lifting them to his eyes instead. They were dark, almost black with the longest black eyelashes.

  “It does get very warm. Thank you for allowing me to remove it.” He shrugged out of his coat, revealing a beige doublet underneath and puffy red breeches on his narrow hips. His stockings were beige to match his doublet and showed his legs to be long and very well-formed.

  Susanna quickly turned in order to stop staring at him. She could feel her face heat with embarrassment lest he have caught her. When she dared to take a peek back at him, he was smiling at her. He had seen her appreciation! Her cheeks burned.

  With a slight clearing of his throat, he turned back to his work. He pulled some pouches of herbs out of his bag and a mortar and pestle. “And your mother? Can she not do anything for your maid?” he asked, turning back to their conversation.

  Susanna redirected her thoughts to more proper—if sad—channels. “No. She cannot cure anyone with her magic. I don’t know that anyone could.”

  “Perhaps your sister, when she becomes the Seventh, and gains even more power—although I’m sure she must be very strong even now.”

  “Yes, my youngest sister is quite powerful, although I’m certain you’re right, and she will become even more so after she is touched by Merlin. She and my mother are looking forward to it, but that’s not for many years to come. She’s only fourteen.”

  “And it will be when she turns twenty-one?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  He gave another nod and then poured some herbs into his mortar. Some others were added and the whole mixed and ground thoroughly. He then carefully poured the whole into another small muslin bag and handed it to her. “Well, until then, use this to make a tea for your maid—just a pinch at a time. Allow it to steep for a good five minutes and then have her drink it slowly. It will be bitter, so add honey to sweeten it. She’ll be more willing to drink it if it’s sweet.”

  Susanna smiled up at him. “Thank you.” She took it from him, coming so close her skirts nearly brushed up against his legs.

  His lips curved up into the sweetest smile, and Susanna was so happy he’d removed his awful mask. “Thank you, my lady.”

  “Will you come back to check on her?”

  “If you’d like me to,” he gave a short nod.

  “I would.”

  “Then I’ll return in a few days.” He seemed reluctant, but he took a step back and then turned to gather up his things. He put his coat and mask back on, and then his hat so that he was fully covered from head to foot.

  “I will see you then,” she said.

  He made her a grand leg and departed, leaving her sighing happily.

  The streets of London were a fetid mess. Animal excretions dotted the roads; pigs and rats vied for food in the gutters. It was no wonder the virus was rampant, Michael thought as he made his way back to his shop. If only he had such powers as Lady Susanna, he wouldn’t have to wear this awful mask.

  Sadly, he did not, and he had no wish to succumb to the illness that was spreading once again throughout the city and its surrounds. The only positive thing about all this was that it enabled his business to flourish. But when he thought about it, he’d rather be poor than have so many literally dying for his services.

  He entered the shop and greeted his young assistant William.

  “Mr. Werloga, thank goodness you are returned!” the boy said as if he’d been gone for days rather than less than an hour. “There have been four customers who’ve come in, all of them wanting your special blend for the virus. I was able to help the first two people, but they bought so much that there was no more for the other customers.”

  Michael took off his mask, handing it to William. As he began to remove his coat, he said, “Why did you not make up a batch yourself? You’ve watched me do so any number of times in the past few months. Surely you know the recipe by now?”

  “I dare not! I have yet to finish my studies. I… I would be afraid I’d add too much of one herb or too little of another,” William protested.

  Michael sighed. “You need to have more confidence in your abilities, boy.”

  He went to his still room in the back to put together the blend of herbs. William followed him and got out the balance to weigh out portions for the two customers who had left orders. A strange sensation came over Michael, though, as he set to work.

  He paused and looked around.

  “What is it?” William asked.

  “I know not. Something seems… off.”

  William, too, looked around, but then shook his head. “It all seems normal to me.”

  Michael shook off the odd feeling and reapplied his concentration to his work. Half an hour later, another large batch of his special blend was prepared. William took the newly refilled glass jar out to the front of the shop just as the bell on the door rang, signaling the entrance of a customer.

  Michael could hear William taking care of the woman, the sound of a jar’s lid opening, and being put onto the counter, William making small-talk as he filled the order. It should all feel ordinary, but somehow… He turned and looked around the room. All of his spices were there, some filling glass jars, some hanging from the ceiling as they dried. He would need to go out into the countryside a few days hence to refill his stores of rosemary, mint, and lavender. Oh, yes, and roses. That had been Lady Susanna’s idea to add roses to his mask…

  He thought back. Had she suggested the roses? He felt as if she had, but he couldn’t actually remember.

  There was definitely something strange here. He hadn’t felt it when he’d been with her ladyship. No, then everything had felt right. Oh, yes, it had felt so very right—a more beautiful woman he’d never met… Michael sighed.

  She was much too far above his touch, however. She was the daughter of a nobleman and the high priestess, for goodness sake! You couldn’t get higher than that—except, of co
urse, for her younger sister, who would become the new high priestess and the Seventh.

  He wondered how old Susanna was. She didn’t seem to be above eighteen, but he could be wrong. Surely, if she were much older than that, she would already be married. He paused as her beautiful full smiling lips filled his mind’s eye. Her lovely bright green eyes, so very expressive, and her blond hair pulled up and tucked under a pretty little cap.

  He wasn’t too old for an eighteen-year-old, was he? He was but five and twenty. Surely… no! What was he thinking! Hadn’t he just pointed out that she was out of his reach? Oh, but she was beautiful.

  Yes, he would be more than happy to return a few days hence to check on her maid. Maybe bring her another package of his blend—surely, she would need some more by then. He’d deliberately given her a rather small amount.

  He laughed at his cleverness. Now, if only he could figure out what was not feeling right.

  After seeing her maid safely tucked back under the covers and off to sleep after drinking the medicinal tea the apothecary had left, Susanna found her mother and two sisters in the drawing room stitching.

  “You have seen to Peggy?” her mother asked, glancing up from her embroidery. Looking at her, Susanna couldn’t believe she was the mother of seven children ranging in age from fourteen to twenty-two. Her eyes were still a bright, clear green, just like Susanna’s, and her light brown hair didn’t have a touch of gray to it.

  “Yes. She’s sleeping now. I gave her the tea,” Susanna said, picking up her own stitching as she sat on the other end of the sofa from Elizabeth, her middle sister. She was the spitting image of their mother only with their father’s brown eyes, which she moaned over constantly.

  “And you feel that this will work?” Erin, the youngest, asked, tucking a wayward few strands of her own blonde hair out of her way. None of them had anything but the straightest, fine hair, which made keeping it up difficult. Susanna sympathized.

  “I believe so,” Susanna said. She didn’t start stitching right away but instead just stared at her project, trying to remember what it was she’d been making.

  “What gives you such confidence?” Elizabeth asked, always the skeptic.

  Susanna looked up at her. She was sitting in a chair next to their mother, an intricate sampler half-finished on her lap. “The apothecary not only came very highly recommended, but he is Vallen as well.”

  “Oh! Well, in that case, I’m sure his potion will work,” Elizabeth said, nodding.

  “It’s not a potion. It’s a tea made from herbs,” Susanna explained to her little sister. “He is an apothecary.”

  “Yes, but you said he was Vallen, which means that he very well may infuse his herbs with magic,” her mother pointed out.

  Susanna paused. “I don’t know whether he does or not. I didn’t ask.”

  “How very odd it must have been to speak with someone wearing that mask,” Erin said quietly. “I saw him come in and found it rather disturbing.” Despite the fact that in seven short years she was going to become the most powerful Vallen on Earth, she was a very gentle, soft-spoken girl. Susanna appreciated that and found it comforting knowing that the Vallen world was going to be left in her hands.

  “It was, indeed,” Susanna agreed. “But I told him that I would protect him from the miasma of the virus. He took it off after he was reassured.”

  “The miasma?” Erin asked.

  “It is the essence of the virus that lingers in the air,” their mother explained. “He wears the mask to protect him from that, so he doesn’t become ill himself.” She turned to Susanna. “Did he say what was inside the mask?”

  “Cinnamon, rosemary, mint, and myrrh,” Susanna said. “Oh, and a cloth soaked in vinegar.”

  “My word! That sounds very potent!” her mother exclaimed.

  “But he took it off?” Erin pressed.

  Susanna couldn’t help but smile as she remembered his handsome visage. “He did.”

  There was silence for a moment as Susanna re-examined the memory of his face with all of its pleasing contours. Suddenly she realized that her family was just sitting and staring at her. “What?”

  “You’re flushing,” their mother pointed out with a smile.

  Erin and Elizabeth giggled.

  Chapter Six

  “Is he handsome?” Erin asked.

  Susanna felt her cheeks begin to heat even more. “He is. Very.” She couldn’t help but smile as well.

  “Please do remember he is but an apothecary,” her mother pointed out.

  “Yes, Mother,” Susanna said. She returned her attention to her stitching, but she still couldn’t remember what she’d been doing. Her gaze lifted, and she looked around the comfortable if formal room. A fire burned brightly in the fireplace. The mantle above it held Merlin’s Chalice in a place of honor at the foot of a painting of her mother on the day of her ascension as high priestess.

  There was something odd…

  “What is wrong, Susanna?” her mother asked gently.

  “I don’t know. There’s something… off,” she answered.

  “Off? What’s off?” Elizabeth asked.

  “I don’t know,” Susanna said again. “It just doesn’t feel right.”

  Her mother stood up and took a turn around the room, looking about as if she could see or sense what was wrong. “I don’t feel anything unusual,” she said upon returning to her seat.

  “I don’t know what it is, but there’s definitely something… not right,” Susanna said. She shook her head but then looked down at her stitching. No. Looking at it simply would not inform her as to what she should be doing with it. She got up and started toward the door.

  “Where are you going?” Elizabeth called after her.

  Susanna stopped. “I… I’m going to go for a walk. Or… maybe I’ll find a book to read or… something.”

  “Are you all right?” Erin asked.

  “Yes, thank you. I just… I need to discover what this feeling is.”

  Michael found himself standing outside of Lord Freyn’s home early the following afternoon. He shouldn’t knock. He knew that. He’d told Lady Susanna he would come back in five days to check on her maid, not twenty-four hours.

  But there was something strange going on, and he needed to verify something. He needed to see if this was real or just… well, he didn’t know what it could be if it wasn’t.

  He walked up to the door and knocked. A mere ten minutes later, he was being shown into an informal drawing room.

  Lady Susanna stood as he entered and was announced. He paused just inside the door, removed his mask, and bowed.

  “Mr. Werloga, what a pleasant surprise,” the lady said, coming forward. “You had said you’d return in five days, or did I mishear?” she asked with a broad smile.

  “No, you are correct. That is what I said. I… I just…” He paused as a book on the table by the door caught his eye. “An almanac,” he said, moving over to it. He opened the cover and read the page:

  An Almacke, or Annuall

  Calendar, with Prognotiftication

  For the yeere of our Lord 1563.

  Lady Susanna came over and looked at it as well. “Fifteen sixty-three,” she said as if confused.

  “It’s not just me, is it?” he asked, turning to her.

  “Have you been feeling out of place too?” she whispered, her eyes widening.

  “Yes! But not… not when I’m with you. That is what I needed to see. When I was with you, it felt… right. Almost.”

  “It does,” she nodded. “But the year.”

  “The year isn’t right,” he agreed.

  “How could that be?”

  “I don’t know. Something strange…”

  “Oh, Susanna, I didn’t know you had company,” Lady Freyn said, coming into the room.

  “Mother,” Lady Susanna said, stepping away from Michael. It was only when she did so, did he realize just how close they’d been standing. It had felt natural, normal, b
ut it hadn’t been, had it?

  “Mother, this is the apothecary I was telling you about yesterday,” Lady Susanna said.

  “Good afternoon.” Lady Freyn nodded as Michael made a grand leg.

  “Mother, is this almanac….”

  “Is it from this year?” Michael finished when Lady Susanna didn’t seem to be able to do so.

  Lady Freyn came over and looked at it and then to him and her daughter. “It is. But you don’t believe it. You are…” she narrowed her eyes at them both. “What is going on here, Susanna?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, wringing her hands.

  “There’s definitely something not right,” Michael said.

  “We’ve both been feeling it since yesterday afternoon,” Lady Susanna said, looking to Michael for confirmation. He nodded.

  “What is it that you have both been feeling?” Lady Freyn asked.

  “Out of place,” Lady Susanna said quickly.

  “Out of… time,” Michael added.

  “Yes!” Lady Susanna agreed.

  “I have to admit I’ve felt as if you were somehow wrong as well. Yesterday afternoon when you joined me and your sisters in the drawing room, there was something off about you,” her mother agreed. “The question is how you might have moved through time and where—or when—you might have come from.”

  “How can we find this out?” Michael asked.

  The lady stared off into the distance for a moment, thinking about it. “Let us try one thing and if that doesn’t work… well, there is always Merlin.” She turned and stepped out the door and called to a footman in the hall. “Fetch Lady Erinne.”

  When she came back into the room, she indicated that they sit.

  While they waited for Lady Susanna’s sister to join them, Michael asked, “How is your maid doing today?”

  “Better, thank you,” Lady Susanna said, giving him a nod. “I think your herbs are working. Her fever is down.”

  “Good.”

  Lady Erinne joined them.

  “Erinne, come, I need to use your power,” Lady Freyn said, indicating that her daughter join them.