go unnoticed. But she had no experience covering a distance of any length in her snake form, and she wasn’t sure how well she would keep up. So she continued walking, sweating profusely and persuading herself that it was only the wind on her damp skin making her shiver.
Points of light emerged ahead of her in the darkness. Only a few of the palazzo windows were lit.
Another shot, then two more in rapid succession.
A dog howled. One of the Hundinga. Or maybe Sarcasmo.
Where the olive groves gave way to lemon trees, she found another bundle on the ground. The man was naked. He couldn’t have been dead for long; the gaping wounds in his body gleamed wet with blood. His throat was torn to pieces, his head at a twisted angle. He had been killed with great savagery.
She heard the sound of paws, and panting—it came from the east, where the tall foundation wall of the panoramic terrace rose among a few palm trees. Climbing over an old wooden fence, she pressed close to a tree trunk.
Two more bodies lay not far away. Both were fully clothed. They were two of the guards here on the Alcantara property, and they had obviously been killed when they found something: several bags and backpacks lying at the foot of a palm. The wall of the terrace rose twelve feet high, right behind the tree.
Rosa held her breath and stood perfectly still.
A gigantic Doberman, larger than a wolf, coming from the south, was approaching the dead men and her find. Rosa could see the animal only from its movements, since in the darkness it blended into its surroundings.
There was a crunching, tearing sound as it changed shape in motion. From one bound to the next the creature rose on its hind legs, stretching as the bones shifted and extended. The dog’s rough coat merged with human flesh. Muscles showed, moving beneath the skin.
In the faint moonlight, the dog’s face changed, the muzzle retreated, the forehead advanced. The man raised his arms—paws became hands—and rubbed his eyes.
A few seconds later, stark naked, he went up to one of the bags and took something out. The display of a cell phone lit up, illuminating the man’s face from below. Rosa put his age at about forty, maybe a little older. He had angular, scarred features, and his hair was cut very short.
He spoke into the phone in a whisper. His accent was harsh, maybe from eastern or northern Europe, and he seemed to be reporting back on the situation to someone.
“…killed two of my men,” she heard the Hunding say. “…can’t wait any longer. The hell with the plan…going straight in…”
She dared not go any closer. Even breathing was risky, but she couldn’t hold her breath any longer.
The man lowered the cell phone and glanced around.
She was in total darkness, yet he was looking straight at her. He uttered one last, angry remark down the phone—“…for me to decide…”—and then switched it off and dropped it into the open bag.
Slowly, he came toward Rosa, a huge outline in front of the gray, moonlit wall. An angry growl issued from his throat.
If she moved her head, however slightly, he would spot her. She could do nothing but keep staring at him, whether she wanted to or not.
Her heart was racing, pumping the snake’s icy breath through her limbs with every beat. If she shifted shape now, he would definitely notice her. And she was far from sure whether, in her snake form, she would be agile enough to escape his fangs.
He dropped to all fours and exploded back into dog shape, so quickly that it was like an old-fashioned special effect in a movie. Here was the man—cut!—there was the dog. Not even a dissolve.
The creature was still nine feet away from her. His Doberman coat smelled of human sweat.
Once again she heard the howling of the others up at the house. They were besieging the palazzo. Shots rang out from the terrace right above them.
The Hunding froze.
A second Hunding howled in pain in the darkness. A body hit water. The bullet must have knocked one of them into the pool.
The chill in Rosa reached the ends of her hair. Everything about her was tingling, itching, burning. She tried to hold back the transformation, fight it. But she was in deadly danger, and her body reacted uncontrollably.
More gunshots. Howling that lasted longer this time. Another bullet had hit home.