"All quiet down below?" I asked.
He gave me that grin of his that managed to be both mischievous and just a touch evil. "Quiet as a tomb."
I groaned because he expected it. But the smile left my face before it left his. "Could it be the council?" I asked.
"Could what be the council?" Louie asked.
"Whoever sent the hit man," I said.
"Do you really think he was a hit man?" Jamil asked.
"You mean was he a professional assassin?"
Jamil nodded.
"No," I said.
"Why wasn't he a professional?" Gwen asked.
"Not good enough," I said.
"Maybe he was a virgin," Jamil said.
"You mean a first timer?"
"Yes."
"Maybe." I glanced at the sheet-covered lump. "He picked the wrong career."
"If it had been some suburban housewife or an investment banker, he'd have done okay," Jamil said.
"Sounds like you know."
He shrugged. "I've been an enforcer since I was fifteen. My threat's not worth anything unless I'm willing to kill."
"How does Richard feel about that?" I asked.
Jamil shrugged again. "Richard's different, but if he wasn't, then I'd be dead. He'd have killed me right after he killed Marcus. It's standard op for a new Ulfric to kill the old leader's enforcers."
"I wanted you dead."
He smiled and it was tight, but not altogether unpleasant. "I know what you wanted. You're closer to being one of us than he is sometimes."
"I just don't have a lot of illusions, Jamil. That's all."
"You think Richard's morality is an illusion?"
"He nearly crushed your throat earlier today. What do you think?"
"I think he also healed me. Marcus and Raina couldn't have done that."
"Would they have hurt you that badly by accident?" I asked.
He smiled, a quick baring of teeth. "If Raina had gone for my throat, it wouldn't have been by accident."
"On a whim," Gwen said, "but not by accident."
The werewolves all had a moment of perfect understanding. None of them mourned Raina, not even Jamil, who had sort of been on her side.