The Devil's Triangle by Mark Robson Read Free Book Online Page A

temples, fingertips spread and pressing hard against her skull as if she could somehow push them through the bone and hold everything in place. It was agony. It was ecstasy. It was an eternity of torture in an instant. Without warning the pain vanished. And with it, the vision – cut off as if someone had hit the power button on the TV. She could breathe again. Her fingers relaxed the pressure against her scalp, but she didn’t remove them. She felt empty. As if a part of her was missing.
    She screamed something: a single word. All strength deserted her legs and Niamh fell backwards into the water. The surface closed over her and for a moment she lay under the water watching streams of bubbles from her body wriggling up towards the surface in dancing silver columns. Slowly, her natural buoyancy lifted her, and as soon as her face surfaced, she began to gasp in great mouthfuls of air. Tears mingled with the streams of pool water tracking across her cheeks as she panted, her heart thumping with urgent rhythm against her ribcage.
    Gone! Gone! Gone! The word repeated over and over in her mind. What was gone? She didn’t know. Something. A part of her was missing. The hole gaped in her mind and inside her chest. Emptiness. Void. It felt wrong. That was as much as she could rationalise.
    With a supreme effort, she regained enough control of her body to get to the side of the pool and haul herself out of the water. Despite the heat of the Florida sun and the hot surface of the pool deck, she felt cold. Goose pimples raised the skin on her arms and legs. She began to shiver. Intense muscle spasms began to run up and down her body, causing her to moan as one cramp overtook another. She wanted to cover herself, to wrap a towel round her shoulders and feel the comfort of the soft material squeeze her arms and body, but the thought of crossing the deck to where her towel was slung over the back of a sunbed made her feel sick.
    Her mind replayed the image of Callum holding the fishing rod. His face had worn an expression of curiosity. Then had come the moment of separation.
    The word Niamh had screamed as her strength had deserted her was her brother’s name. The feeling of emptiness – of being incomplete – suddenly made horrifying sense. Something had happened to Sam. Was he dead? Was that why she had felt the tearing sensation?
    Niamh had always shared a close empathic bond with her twin brother. Even when they were apart, there had been occasions when she had known Sam was experiencing particularly intense emotions. She didn’t know how it was possible, but she could predict his moods with uncanny accuracy when she rang him. He had confessed to similar experiences, though from what he had told her, Sam’s perception of her was not as strong. The only times he had ever felt her was when her emotions were particularly powerful. Instinctively, she knew that the hole inside her was something to do with the strange link they shared. Panic gripped her tighter. Could Sam feel her now? She had never had such a strong sensation of fear before. She had to tell Dad.
    Forcing herself up onto her hands and knees, Niamh crawled to the nearest chair and used it to help get to her feet. Her head was still spinning as she crossed the deck to the glass door. It took every ounce of energy she could muster to slide it open. The telephone was on the breakfast bar, just a few short steps away.
    Now she was on her feet and into the air-conditioned living area, her head was clearing fast. Her strength was returning and she crossed to the breakfast bar with relative ease.
    What if I’m wrong and the boys are fine? she asked herself as she picked up the handset. She paused. They’ll be livid that I’ve ratted on them to Dad.
    The hollow feeling of loss and emptiness denied that possibility. She knew she had to make the call. Without further thought, she punched in the number and lifted the handset to her ear. It seemed to take an eternity for the