A Rip in the Veil Read Online Free PDF

said. What? So she had her name tattooed on her nape? And it was definitely not Matthew, because this was a Yank – a horribly strong one at that.
    “Do I know you?” She tried to twist loose.
    “Indirectly, and now, you little bitch, you’re going to…”
    Who was this maniac? She flapped an arm at her unseen attacker, heaved and twisted. Jesus! His fingers dug into the tendons of her neck, and the pain was paralyzing. The water…closer and closer came the surface, and Alex realised he intended to duck her. Drown her? She cried out when he increased the pressure, and then she was underwater. Nightmare. Definitely a nightmare. Nice pebbles. Bubbles, many bubbles. Air. Lovely, lovely air. Alex gulped and gulped, raising a dripping head to stare at Matthew, who was fighting with an unknown man. A grunt, a heave and the man was thrown to land a few feet away. The man screeched at the impact.
    “Are you alright?” Matthew asked Alex.
    “Yes,” she said shakily.
    “Do you know him?” He cocked his head at the groaning shape.
    “No.”
    “Yes you do!” Two penetrating eyes fixed on her.
    Alex shook her head, taking in a battered face, a dirty flannel shirt and jeans that seemed to have burnt off at calf length. He looked awful. The skin on what she could see of his legs was blistered and raw, made even worse by a large flesh wound. But he was here, an undoubtedly modern man – however big an arsehole – and the sight of him had her heart twisting in hope. One person dropping through a time hole she could, with a gigantic stretch of mind, contemplate. Two doing it at the same time was so improbable as to be risible, so obviously this Matthew character was the odd one out, not she. Yes! Not a coma, not a nightmare, just a freak thunderstorm, and poor Matthew needed psychiatric care.
    “Who are you?” she asked.
    “Don’t give me that! You’ve seen my picture often enough on my homepage.”
    “I don’t think you resemble any likeness of yours,” Matthew put in. “You’re somewhat the worse for wear.”
    Alex peered at the man. “Sanderson? Oh my God, you’re Diego Sanderson! What on earth are you doing here?”
    Sanderson sat up and his hand strayed to his neck, rubbing it. “I could ask you the same, right? What have you been doing? Some spontaneous camping?”
    “What do you mean?” she said.
    He gave her a piercing look. “Well, you didn’t make it to the meeting, did you?”
    “Nor did you, from the looks of it.” And why had he almost killed her just now?
    “Yeah I did; but then I went looking for you. No point to the meeting without you, hey? After all, Hector couldn’t care less about this new security setup, no, what Hector wants is you.”
    “Hector?”
    “He dislikes untidy ends, my dear Hector. And he hates it when his plans backfire – like they did in Italy some years ago. But you know all about that, right?”
    “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
    Her brain was trying to make some sense of what he was saying. He knew about Italy? And who was Hector? The name tugged at her brain cells, an insistent niggling that yes, she did know this name. Oh my God; that Hector!
    “ No me mientas ! Don’t lie! Ángel disappeared down there, and Hector wants to know how.” He lunged at her, was blocked by Matthew
    “Who?” She half closed her eyes at the memory of Ángel. No, she wasn’t going to think about him. She ducked her head to avoid the pale blue eyes fixed on her with apparent dislike. Without a word, Matthew hunched down beside her, placing himself between her and Sanderson. Alex exhaled.
    Sanderson’s eyes stuck on Matthew, travelling up and down the worn linen shirt, the woollen breeches and the heavy leather belt. His eyes widened, his mouth fell open, he cleared his throat and gawked some more, his Adam’s apple bobbing like a cork.
    “Where the hell am I?” he said. “Where have I ended up?”
    Matthew regarded him, mouth pursed. “Am I to assume you