Burnt Offerings - Laurell K. Hamilton [111]
Gwen walked into the room. “A lot of people who can take the sight of blood don’t like to see other things leaking out.”
“Thank you, Ms. Therapist,” Jamil said.
She turned to him like a small blond storm, her otherworldly energy spiraling through the room. “You are a homophobic bastard.”
I raised eyebrows. “I miss something?”
“Jamil is one of those men who believes that every lesbian is just a heterosexual woman waiting for the right man. He was persistent enough to me that Sylvie kicked his ass.”
“Such language from a trained therapist,” Jason said. He’d rushed up from the basement where the vampires were stored for the day when the shooting started. When the excitement died down, he’d gone back to check on everybody.
“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.
I shook my head. “I just don’t think the council would send out some amateur with a gun. They’ve got enough daytime muscle to do the job without hiring outsiders.”
“Then who?” Jamil asked.
I shook my head again. “I wish I knew.”
Ronnie came back into the living room. We all watched her as she made her shaky way back to the couch. She sat down, eyes red-rimmed from crying and other things. Louie brought her a glass of water. She sipped it very slowly and looked at me. I expected her to talk about the dead man. Maybe to accuse me of being a horrible friend. But she’d decided to ignore the dead body and work on the live ones.
“If you had slept with Richard when you first started dating, all this pain could have been avoided.”
“You’re so sure of that,” I said. I let Ronnie change the subject. She needed something else to concentrate on. I’d have preferred the topic to be something besides my love life, but…I owed her.
“Yes,” she said, “the way you look at him, Anita. The way he looks at you when he’s not being cruel. Yeah, I’m sure.”
Part of me agreed with her, part of me…“There’d still be Jean-Claude.”
She made an impatient sound. “I know you. If you’d had sex with Richard first, you still wouldn’t be sleeping with that damn vampire. You think sex is a commitment.”
I sighed. We’d had this talk before. “Sex should mean something, Ronnie.”
“I agree,” she said.