With her tail pressed as close to her body as possible, the Argonian darted across the doorway to the central chamber. Her light armour made it almost certain that she was not heard, but she still held her breath as the man turned around to stare in her direction - not that he could see her from her hiding spot in the shadows; he was Breton and dull of senses, unless he was using Alteration spells to heighten them. However, Neela-fa knew from her intel that this conjurer was only skilled in the raising of the undead and possessed a fire spell or two (of course, she would have to expect the unexpected, for contacts hadn't always proven themselves to be trusted or worthy of the coin paid to them; had she been part of the Thieves' Guild then there would have been hundreds of beggars willing to help her).
Her entire frame was still, even the fingers that had casually been playing with the dagger. With her breath still held she crept towards him until - certain that he could not react - she was close enough to plunge the dagger into his lower back, remove it, whirl around to his front and stab his breast, aiming for the heart. He slunk to the floor, robes pooling out around his corpse, yet strangely there was no blood, even on her dagger as she retrieved it.
Odd, she thought to herself, and then the sensation of a searing heat passing by her left side caused her to leap to the right. Clinging to the shadows, her eyes were wide as she saw a second figure emerge from further within the chamber, another fireball forming within his palms.
"Dammit!" she hissed, feeling a little stupid for having overlooked the fact that he could raise the dead; when she had arrived in this place initially there had been but a few imps, no humans. No, they had already been turned into zombies and who knew how many this sorcerer had in his arsenal. He sent another fireball her way, not to inflict damage but to find out where she was, as the flaming orb was like a beacon no sooner had it hit a wall and illuminated the area around it upon impact. She had caught on to this, however, and was weaving her way towards him.
"Too easy, despite yer li'l trick," she grinned toothily, knocking him off his feet with her tail and squatting down on top of him, not before she had tossed her dagger into the air and caught it in her mouth. Her hands were at his wrists, pinning them down and preventing him from using magick. Yes, this was him, he had that smell and now he was squirming like a insect, a tiny, insignificant insect.
"I'll kill you!" he threatened timidly - there was a slight stutter, but not enough to be noteworthy. Neela-fa chuckled to herself, leaning down and dragging the knife down his torso. He roared with pain, and the distraction was long enough for her to move it into her hand and then slit his throat, ending his life before he had the chance to cast another spell.
She waited for a second, ensuring that this was the right man and that there were no more spells to jeopardise her mission. The last thing she wanted was a mark being brought back from the dead, especially one who found pleasure in taking advantage of young children, killing them, reviving them and then repeating the process. She would need a very good soak once she arrived at Cheydinhal, though first she would have to find her client and collect her reward.