Dark Storm (3 page)

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Authors: Christine Feehan

Tags: #Paranormal, #Suspense, #Fiction, #Romance

BOOK: Dark Storm
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Riley clutched her mother’s hand tightly, murmuring nonsense. Her previous suspicions came roaring back to life. The tiny little midges had gone straight for her mother. There was no one more attuned to the rain forest than Annabel. Plants grew abundant and lush around her. She whispered to them and they seemed to whisper back, embracing her as if she were Mother Earth. When her mother walked through the backyard at their home in California, Riley was fairly certain she could see the plants growing right in front of her. For the forest to begin attacking her, something was terribly wrong.

Annabel gripped Riley’s hand tightly as the two researchers lifted her to her feet and helped her stumble back to their sleeping area made private by the sheets and netting hung across thin ropes.

“Thank you,” Riley said to the two men. She was all too aware of the stunned silence out on deck. She wasn’t the only one to notice that the white bugs had attacked her mother and no one else after their initial swarm. Even those knocked from her body had struggled to their feet and crawled toward her as if programmed to do so.

“Use this on the bites,” Gary Jansen said. “I can make up some more once we’re in the forest if she runs out. It will take the edge off.”

Riley took the vial from him. The two men exchanged a look above her head and her heart jumped. They knew something. That look had been meaningful. Profound. She tasted fear in her mouth and quickly looked away, nodding her head.

Annabel attempted a halfhearted smile and murmured her thanks as the two men turned to go, giving the women privacy to find bites beneath clothing.

“Mom, are you all right?” Riley asked, the moment they were alone.

Annabel gripped her hand tightly. “Listen to me, Riley. Don’t ask questions. No matter what happens, even if something happens to me, you must get to the mountain and complete the ritual. You know every word, every move. Perform the ritual
exactly
as you’ve been taught. You’ll feel the earth moving through you and …”

“Nothing’s going to happen to you, Mom,” Riley protested. Fear was giving way to sheer terror. Her mother’s eyes reflected some inner turmoil, some innate knowledge of a danger she knew of that Riley was missing—more a terrible vulnerability that had never been there before. None of the married couples in their family ever long-survived the loss of a spouse, but Riley was determined her mother would be the exception. She’d been watching her mother like a hawk since her father, Daniel Parker, died in the hospital following a major heart attack. Annabel had been grieving, but she hadn’t seemed despondent or fatalistic until now. “Stop talking like this, you’re scaring me.”

Annabel struggled into a sitting position. “I’m giving you necessary information, Riley. Just as my mother gave it to me. And her mother before her. If I can’t get to the mountain, the burden falls on you. You are part of an ancient lineage, and we’ve been given a duty that has passed from mother to daughter for centuries. My mother took me to this mountain, just as her mother took her. I’ve taken you. You are a child of the cloud forest, Riley, born there as I was. You drew your first breath on that mountain. You took it into your lungs and with it, the forest and all that comes with living, growing things.”

Annabel shuddered again and reached for the vial Riley held. With shaking hands she drew up her shirt to reveal the tiny midges clinging to her stomach, brushing with trembling fingers to get them off. Riley took the vial and began smearing the soothing gel onto the bites.

“When my mother told me these things, I thought she was being dramatic and I scoffed at her,” Annabel continued. “Oh, not to her face of course, but I thought her so old and superstitious. I’d heard the stories of the mountains. We lived in Peru and some of the older people in our village still whispered about the great evil that came before the Incas and could not be driven away, not even by their most fierce warriors. Stories. Dreadful, frightening stories handed down for generations. I thought the stories had been passed down mostly to scare the children and keep them from roaming too far from the protection of the village, but I learned better after my mother died. Something is there, Riley, in the mountain. Something evil, and it’s our job to contain it.”

Riley wanted to believe her mother was delirious with pain, but her eyes were steady—even more, afraid. Annabel believed every word she was saying and her mother wasn’t given to flights of fancy. More to reassure her mother than because she actually believed the nonsense about some evil being trapped inside a mountain, Riley nodded.

“You’re going to be fine,” she assured. “We’ve been bitten by Manta Blanca on previous trips. They aren’t poisonous. Nothing’s going to happen to you, Mom.” She had to say the words aloud, needing them to be true. “This was only a bizarre event. We know anything can happen in the rain forest …”

“No, Riley.” Annabel caught her daughter’s hand and held it tight. “All the delays … all the problems since we arrived … something is happening. The evil in the mountain is deliberately trying to slow me down. It is close to the surface and is orchestrating accidents and illness. We have to be realistic, Riley.” Her body shuddered again.

Riley hunted through her pack and came up with a packet of pills. “Antihistamines, Mom, take a couple of these. You’ll probably go to sleep but at least the itching will stop for a while.”

Annabel nodded and swallowed the pills, chasing them with water. “Don’t trust anyone, Riley. Any one of these people can be our enemy. We must go our own way as soon as possible.”

Riley bit her lip, refraining from saying anything at all. She needed time to think. She was twenty-five years old and had been to the Andes four times, not including when she was born in the cloud forest. This was the fifth trip that she remembered. The hike through the rain forest had been grueling, but she’d never felt terrified as she was now. It was too late to turn back and from what her mother said, it wasn’t an option. She needed to let her mother rest, and then they had to talk. She had to learn much more about the
why
of the trip to the Andes.

She dropped the sheet in place as soon as her mother appeared to be drifting off and went out onto the deck. Raul, the porter, glanced at her and looked quickly away, clearly uncomfortable with the presence of both women. Goose bumps rose on her arms. She rubbed them away, turning to walk along the railing to try to put some distance between her and the rest of the passengers. She just needed a little space.

There wasn’t enough room aboard the boat to find a quiet corner. Jubal and Gary, the two researchers, sat together in one of the few secluded spots, and judging from the expressions on their faces, they weren’t very happy. She gave them a wide berth, but in doing so ended up beside Ben Charger, the third engineer, the one she couldn’t quite make up her mind about. He was always courteous to both women and, like Jubal and Gary, seemed to be developing a protective streak toward them.

Ben nodded at her. “Is your mother all right?”

Riley flashed him a tentative smile. “I think so. I gave her an antihistamine. Hopefully, between that and the gel Gary gave us, the itch won’t make her crazy. Those are nasty little bugs.”

“She must have been wearing something that attracted them,” Ben ventured, half stating, half asking. “Maybe a perfume?”

Riley knew her mother never wore perfume, but it was a good explanation. She nodded slowly. “I didn’t think of that. The attack was so bizarre.”

Ben studied her face intently, his eyes so watchful, she found his gaze disturbing. “I’ve heard you and your mother have come here before. Has anything like that ever happened?”

Riley shook her head, grateful she could tell the truth. “Never.”

“Why do you and your mother come to such a dangerous place?” Ben asked curiously. Again he didn’t blink, or take his eyes from her face. He stared at her with the eyes of an interrogator. “It’s my understanding that even the guides haven’t traveled to this mountain. They had to get the information from a couple of others in the village. It seems such a strange destination for two women. There aren’t any villages on the mountain, so you’re not here for the linguistics.”

Riley gave him a vague smile. “Mother’s work as a horticulturist and advocate for the protection of rain forests takes us many places. But we come here also because we’re descendents of the Cloud People and my mother wants us to learn as much as possible so the people aren’t forgotten.” She pressed her lips together and put a defensive hand on her throat. “That sounded mean. I love the rain forest, and I enjoy the trips with my mother. I was actually born in the cloud forest, so I think my mother thought it would be a good tradition to carry on, coming every few years.” She glanced toward the guide and lowered her voice. “We weren’t certain these men actually knew the way, that’s why we thought it would be safer traveling with all of you.”

“I’ve never been,” Ben admitted. “I’ve traveled around many rain forests, but not to this particular mountain. I don’t know why Don said we all had been here before. He likes to think he knows everything about everything. Is the forest as dangerous as everyone says?”

Riley nodded. “Very few people have ever traveled to this peak. It’s a volcano and, although it hasn’t erupted in well over five hundred years, I’m suspicious sometimes that it’s waking up, although mostly because of the way the locals talk about it. There’s some story handed down through the various local tribes about that mountain, so most avoid it. It’s difficult to actually find a guide willing to travel to it.” She frowned. “Truly, it has an off-putting feeling. You find yourself growing uneasy the higher you climb.”

Ben ran both hands through his hair, almost as if he was agitated. “This entire side of the rain forest seems infested with legends and myths. No one wants to talk about them to outsiders, and all of them seem to involve some creature that preys on the lives and blood of the living.”

Riley shrugged. “That’s understandable. Practically everything in the rain forest is out for your blood. I’ve heard the rumors, of course, and our guide told us that it wasn’t the Incas who destroyed the Cloud People, or the Spanish. The locals and descendents whisper of a great evil who murdered in the night, sucking the life from them and turning families against one another. The Cloud People were fierce in battle and gentle in their home life, but they supposedly succumbed one by one or fled the village to the Incas. When the Incas came to conquer the forest people, apparently most of the warriors were already dead. It’s rumored that the Incas living here suffered the same fate as the ones killed by the marauding evil. Their bravest warriors died first.”

“That’s not in the history books,” Ben said.

Still, she had the feeling he wasn’t surprised, that he’d heard that whispered version. There were many more stories, of course, each more frightening than the other. Tales of bloodless victims and the tortures and horrors they’d endured before being murdered.

“Are you talking vampires?”

She blinked. He’d slipped that question in so casually. Too casually. Ben Charger had a deeper agenda than mining for traveling to the barely explored region. Old legends? Could he want to write? Whatever his reasons, Riley was certain they had nothing to do with mining. She frowned, thinking it over. Could the evil entity whispered about be a vampire? The myth of the vampire seemed to have existed in every ancient culture.

“I honestly have no idea. I’ve never heard whatever the entity is called a vampire, but the languages have changed so much over the years, quite a bit is lost in translation. I suppose it’s possible. Vampire bats play an important part in Inca culture and among the Chachapoyas as well. At least based on what little my mom’s told me and what I’ve managed to learn on my own. There isn’t a lot to go on.”

“Fascinating,” Ben said. “If we get a chance, I’d like to hear more. I find cultures interesting, and here, in this part of the rain forest, the tribes and stories seemed to be shrouded in mystery, which intrigues me all the more. I’m a bit of an amateur writer and I take every opportunity when exploring a new region to learn as much as I can about old myths. I find that no matter where I go, certain legendary creatures have infiltrated the cultures all over the world. It’s intriguing.”

At a soft sound, Riley turned to find her mother standing close. Annabel was unguarded for a moment, her face swollen with bites, her eyes watchful and very suspicious of Ben. Riley stared at her in surprise. Her mother was the most open, gentle woman Riley had ever been around. She didn’t have a mean, suspicious bone in her body. As a rule she shared information, was at ease with everyone, and most people gravitated toward her. Riley always felt protective toward her mother because she was so trusting where Riley wasn’t.

Annabel blinked and the look of suspicion was gone, leaving her mother simply looking at Ben. Riley felt a little as if her world was spinning. Nothing, no one—not even her mother—seemed familiar. “You should be resting, Mom. So many bites can make you sick.”

Annabel shook her head. “I’m okay. The gel Gary gave me is very soothing. It took the itch away, and you know the bites aren’t poisonous. Gary and his friend must be very good at studying the properties of plants, because the gel really works.”

Ben glanced over at the two men. Although both were clearly American, Gary and Jubal had journeyed from somewhere in Europe to search for a mythical plant with extraordinary healing properties that supposedly grew high in the Andes. By the expression on his face, he thought both men were slightly insane.

Annabel took Riley’s hand and they nodded at Ben and moved toward the railing of the boat, in the center where they were alone.

The river narrowed more so that in places the huge root systems of the trees along the bank nearly scraped the boat. Lines of bats swayed high in the trees, an eerie sight. They were large, hanging upside down up in the thick canopy. Riley had seen the sight before, even as a child, but for some strange reason, this time it was disturbing, as if the bats were lying in wait, motionless, waiting for dark to begin the hunt—this time for human prey. She gave a little shudder at her own dramatic fantasy.

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