Dark Storm by Christine Feehan

never give up. Now, whatever this is, no matter how bad, you say we have to succeed, that innocent lives depend on us. So let’s get the job done, no matter the cost to us. We do this thing all the way, and we succeed.”
    Annabel looked up, her eyes meeting Riley’s. For a moment there was that spark of absolute determination Riley recognized in her mother. And then she blinked back tears. “I know I haven’t been myself, honey. It’s just that your father and I were so close. I can’t breathe right without him. We just fit together more like one person and without him, I’m having a hard time functioning.”
    “Mom.” Riley leaned close. “Of course you feel that way. Dad’s only been gone a short time. You haven’t had time to come to terms with his death. Neither have I. We just lost him and we’re supposed to be home grieving, not out here in the rain forest, climbing a mountain surrounded by strangers and dealing with something profoundly evil.”
    Annabel swallowed hard and shoved at the damp curls springing around her face. The humidity and heat had sent her hair into a frenzy of brown frizz and corkscrews all over her head.
    Annabel reached out to touch Riley’s thick, long hair, straight as a bone, not a frizz in sight in spite of the humidity. She wore it in a long braid to keep it off her neck and away from her face. “You’re so beautiful, Riley, and so different. You belong here. Your soul is here whether you know it or not and the land is calling to you. I can feel it. I’m certain you can as well. Listen to what it says to you. Trust your instincts.”
    Riley’s heart jumped. Her mother sounded like she was saying good-bye all over again. Her hands trembled as she smoothed Riley’s hair. She looked so fragile Riley’s heart ached. Clearly, Annabel wanted to help Riley, but in her defeated state she felt incapable. That small surge of determination faded far too fast.
    Riley let her breath out slowly. “You need to drink more water, Mom,” she advised, giving up on trying to rally Annabel’s defenses. The best she could do was get her mother up the mountain and keep anyone from killing her. And that required a better weapon than the one she had.
    Jubal was off to her left, not far from them. Gary was on their other side, a discreet distance away, and Ben had found a resting place in front of them, as if guarding them from the others. Riley couldn’t count on her mother, and she needed these men to help keep her mother safe. She needed to plan every step carefully and prepare for any emergencies. That meant her pack as well as her mother’s needed extra supplies.
    She always carried rations and her own water filtration system. She’d been backpacking for years and knew how to survive, but she needed weapons. “Mom, rest here. I want you to eat this.” She held out a high protein bar to her mother. “You need to keep up your strength. I’m just going to go over there”—she indicated Jubal—“to talk to him for a minute.”
    “You can’t trust them,” Annabel hissed, her eyebrows coming together. “You really can’t. Evil looks beautiful and good can look quite rough and terrible. You can’t know who is on our side.”
    “Maybe not, Mom,” Riley said, forcing the protein bar into her mother’s hand. “But at the moment, I need a weapon and he’s got one. Eat this and just wait for me to come back. Don’t move.”
    Suspicion slipped into Annabel’s eyes. Her hand closed around the protein bar gingerly, as if her own daughter might be trying to poison her.
    Riley’s heart sank as her mother turned away from her, hunching her back and rounding her shoulders. She actually felt Annabel pulling away from her, distancing herself. The look in her eyes was both defeated and accusing.
    Riley shook her head and squared her shoulders. Her mother was obviously ill, her grief overcoming her ability to function. Riley set her teeth and marched over to Jubal. She couldn’t help