Julian wrinkled his nose at the stale smell in the air. He hated being back at the office. The agents that worked here didn't get out nearly enough. Lucky for him, he was rarely in town for long. He turned the corner nearly running into a short, balding man.
"You didn't unpack did you?" Julian had never seen Connor without a tinge of red in his cheeks. He wasn't sure if it was from the bourbon kept by his desk or the anger that was always present in his expression. Connor would one day have a stroke. The rest of the guys had a pool going on just how long it would take.
"Unpack? I'm always ready, Connor. What's with you?" He held up two separate folders. One of them thin, ornate, and black, Connor recognized as the reason he shouldn't unpack. The other was a regular office folder. The label on it read, Expenses. Julian rolled his eyes in defense. He raised his hands and stepped back a few feet from the man. He should have sent that in after heading out for the day. Damn him for getting a little work done early.
"Before you say a 'ting, I had to blend in to get close to the Sultan's nephew. You know that." Julian was already suppressing a grin. One that if he let cross his lips, would mean a serious cut in his pay. "Halfsies?" He offered as he snatched the black folder and stepped past Connor on his way to his office. Julian's hand patted the man on the shoulder. He could feel the heat radiating from this head. At any minute, it might have burst.
Julian made it about twenty paces down the hall, flipping through a mostly blacked out folder, before Connor's temper leveled out enough for words to come forth. "I'm not sure half is going to-"
"Bollocks, are you thick? Fucking train, Connor? You know I don't do trains!" Julian turned waving his arms in the air almost throwing the folder. He was happy to see the man was as perplexed as hoped.
"You've never had a problem with-"
"This is absolute cac and we both know it, Connor. Jaysus Christ. I'll do it, but asking for half on that expense is a crime and you know it. Looks like I need to get to Lyon to catch that train." With that, his office door was never opened.
***
Intel wasn't always correct. He was looking for a Jack, but he only knew the bumbling idiot he had already marked on the train as Killian. Hard not to remember an agent who was on the front page of Corriere della Sera in relation to a murdered emissary. Either way, he fit what little outline he was given for this job. The man was nervous. The way he kept ordering drinks wasn't the only thing that gave that away. Julian had noticed him staring a few times, not that he acknowledged it.
Luckily the drinks added up quickly and did what nature intended. Julian was already waiting on the man. As soon as the doors in between the cars shut, he bumped into him in the narrow hallway with enough force to knock the man sideways. Julian was unfazed.
"Sorry 'bout that fella. All better, all better. Not good. Better." Julian dusted the man's shoulders off for him as he flashed him a set of dazzling pearls. One end of the garrote he had concealed in his hand dropped. Killian's eyes looked down and then instantly back to Julian. Killian's eyes were pleading. His killer wasn't smiling any longer as he grabbed onto the grip on the other end and slipped behind the man. There wasn't a scream that anyone would hear. The thin cable was drawing blood as it squeezed the life out him.
"All better," Julian said patting the dead man on the chest. This job had gone much quicker than he had intended. Julian was in high spirits. After disposing of the man he was determined to treat the rest of this trip as a little vacation. On the way back to his seat, something caught his eye. Sunshine bathed over a woman that caused an instant argument in his head. Her brown hair glowed in the natural light, and in her reflection, two big violet eyes stared out into the French countryside, book in hand. Rather than a trip back down the aisle to his seat, Julian opted for an audible. Besides, there was a seven-year-old behind him that had been dancing up and down the back of his seat since he sat down.
"Mind if I sit here? I'm quite done with that little shite kicking the back of my seat over there," he said with a wag of his thumb over his shoulder. Julian wasn't prepared for those eyes when they hit him. They stood out shining bright against her skin tone. He tried not to grin as he studied their brilliant violet color. They reminded him of blueberry pie, his favorite.
"Heh, sure. Not sure why they let the little monsters into the club car anyway," her voice was like soft velvet being drug down his spine. Her stare was intense. Julian always had a naturally slow heart rate, but that purple gaze made his pulse race. How cruel could she be to take those eyes off of him? He had to say something to keep her attention, that her book had stolen back from him.
"Vonnegut? He's one of my favorite American authors. Tells it how it is- at least how he sees it. The one you've got there is indeed good, but if you can get your hands on one of his less-popular ones, you'd be in for a treat. It's called 'Slap-"
"...-stick'. That's my favorite book! No one I know has read it because it's so-"
"...damned depressing?"Julian's face lit up at her answer. He knew he couldn't resist this seat for a reason. Depressing or not, Vonnegut had been through some shit. Those were the types that had something worth writing about. "Aye. That's what makes it so brilliant."
Her smile told him the world wasn't important. Work was a million miles away. She was the type that deserved him to chase after with all his passion. Julian had met beautiful women, but they didn't do whatever she was doing to him. Then suddenly, with her heavenly hand extended, the beauty tossed a bomb in his lap. "Jack," she offered. His eyes betrayed him as his mind questioned a lot of things. His heart sank. He truly wanted to know this woman. He felt drawn to her. He would only see the most intimate of moments with her, her last. He took her hand in autopilot. It was warm and soft, but not too soft, the woman took care of herself. "It's short for Jacqueline." Julian felt very silly for not considering his mark to be a woman. Apparently, the work done in the hallway moments before was just a little freelance. He really hoped he was wrong.
"A pleasure. I'm Julian. Although, if we're going with nicknames, I suppose you should call me 'Jules'." Did she like his name or what she saw? Either way, her grip tightened as the nickname rolled from his tongue. Julian envied her glass as she hastily sought out its contents. Anything that touched those plump pillows for lips deserved his jealousy. Was this truly his target? She was too much of a stand out with those beautiful purples to be a professional, wasn't she?
"Pleasure is mine, Jules. If you'll excuse me? I need to visit the little girls' room," more velvet flowed from her tongue to his ears as she made a graceful exit. As she walked to the restroom, he watched her and wondered if he could bring himself to kill such a perfect form of feminine beauty. His eyes were not able to stay off her ass as she made for the door. She turned and looked at him. She knew he was watching, and he knew she wanted to keep an eye on him. All of this was confirmed in a small glance back before she slipped out of sight. Maybe he was playing games with his own mind? While she was gone, Julian's mind began to wage a war with himself. Maybe she was just into him? His instincts told him she was, but all the best predators could trick their prey. Was she to be the second meal?
He knew she was back before turning his head. Not only did her lingering gaze feel like a light string being drug gently across his neck, but her scent had the loveliest hint of jasmine and vanilla. Everything about her made him want to be closer. His hand brushed over the outline of his straight razor in his right pocket. Through his jeans, he idly pushed it up and down inside the pocket.
"I could use more wine. How about you, Jules? You a drinker?" She asked him to grab a drink, but all Julian could do was stare at her now brown lips for a moment. They weren't brown before she left. He didn't mean to, but his tongue ran across the top of his own before meeting her violet pools. She wanted to impress him. Maybe he didn't need to kill the woman, even if she was his mark? The train ride still had a couple days left. Is it wrong to play with your food either way? He may never meet a woman so captivating in his life again. Killing her would be such a drag.
"Now, aren't you just being polite? What gave it away? Course could use a drink." The seven-year-old from before ran down the aisle with his hand slapping the backs of each chair as he hummed. His mother was three drinks passed giving a fuck. "Figure there are much better places to wet our beaks. Ones without so many distractions. Could have a bottle brought back to my sleeper. Wait a tick. You don't mind a red do ya?" Julian chuckled as his hand found her knee. His own eyes glanced down for a moment in shock. He didn't mean to touch her, but he wasn't moving it now. His offer still in the air, he gave her a shrug of his shoulders. "Lest 'course, you'd rather listen to wee terrorists." He threw a thumb back to the redheaded boy now singing as he thumped chairs.
"Lead the way," her eyes said more than her words as the porter approached with a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon. He gave her a genuine smile at her casual style as she grabbed onto his hand. Julian was not one to leave a woman waiting. Despite feeling a bit uneasy about leaving her behind him, he obliged. It wasn't the fact that she might cut his life short that had him peeking back over his shoulder. He couldn't get enough of the way her eyes seemed to light up every time he smiled at her. Ending this one would be a damned shame. When they reached his sleeper, the porter poured their wine. He left the bottle and the room fifty euros richer.
"I…" She seemed to hesitate as she began. He could smell the jasmine, vanilla, and now something floral that sent alarms off through his brain as she began to step closer, breaking through personal space. Jules already had his straight razor in hand and open. The first wafts of the pungent flower were enough to let him know her next words were true. "I suppose you know I'm not here for the wine," she said, as he raised the blade out of view. Any moment now and those lips would be on him. Oh, how he wanted to taste them, if only it wouldn't kill him. Movements she didn't even see coming took to action. Julian's face never showed it. His eyes stared into those deep purple depths as pushed a cold, steel blade up against her neck hard enough to draw a trickle of blood from the tip of the straight razor.
The back of her hand drug across the front of his thigh. His muscles jerked from her electric touch, but in a moment, he had recomposed. "Aconite? Effective, sure, but it smells, you know. Bit amateurish, Jack."
"Another five minutes and you'd be calling me something quite the opposite, Julian," she said as her body pushed into him and the blade. The world was only purple now. Forehead to forehead, nose to nose, their lips were only a breath apart.
"You didn't unpack did you?" Julian had never seen Connor without a tinge of red in his cheeks. He wasn't sure if it was from the bourbon kept by his desk or the anger that was always present in his expression. Connor would one day have a stroke. The rest of the guys had a pool going on just how long it would take.
"Unpack? I'm always ready, Connor. What's with you?" He held up two separate folders. One of them thin, ornate, and black, Connor recognized as the reason he shouldn't unpack. The other was a regular office folder. The label on it read, Expenses. Julian rolled his eyes in defense. He raised his hands and stepped back a few feet from the man. He should have sent that in after heading out for the day. Damn him for getting a little work done early.
"Before you say a 'ting, I had to blend in to get close to the Sultan's nephew. You know that." Julian was already suppressing a grin. One that if he let cross his lips, would mean a serious cut in his pay. "Halfsies?" He offered as he snatched the black folder and stepped past Connor on his way to his office. Julian's hand patted the man on the shoulder. He could feel the heat radiating from this head. At any minute, it might have burst.
Julian made it about twenty paces down the hall, flipping through a mostly blacked out folder, before Connor's temper leveled out enough for words to come forth. "I'm not sure half is going to-"
"Bollocks, are you thick? Fucking train, Connor? You know I don't do trains!" Julian turned waving his arms in the air almost throwing the folder. He was happy to see the man was as perplexed as hoped.
"You've never had a problem with-"
"This is absolute cac and we both know it, Connor. Jaysus Christ. I'll do it, but asking for half on that expense is a crime and you know it. Looks like I need to get to Lyon to catch that train." With that, his office door was never opened.
***
Intel wasn't always correct. He was looking for a Jack, but he only knew the bumbling idiot he had already marked on the train as Killian. Hard not to remember an agent who was on the front page of Corriere della Sera in relation to a murdered emissary. Either way, he fit what little outline he was given for this job. The man was nervous. The way he kept ordering drinks wasn't the only thing that gave that away. Julian had noticed him staring a few times, not that he acknowledged it.
Luckily the drinks added up quickly and did what nature intended. Julian was already waiting on the man. As soon as the doors in between the cars shut, he bumped into him in the narrow hallway with enough force to knock the man sideways. Julian was unfazed.
"Sorry 'bout that fella. All better, all better. Not good. Better." Julian dusted the man's shoulders off for him as he flashed him a set of dazzling pearls. One end of the garrote he had concealed in his hand dropped. Killian's eyes looked down and then instantly back to Julian. Killian's eyes were pleading. His killer wasn't smiling any longer as he grabbed onto the grip on the other end and slipped behind the man. There wasn't a scream that anyone would hear. The thin cable was drawing blood as it squeezed the life out him.
"All better," Julian said patting the dead man on the chest. This job had gone much quicker than he had intended. Julian was in high spirits. After disposing of the man he was determined to treat the rest of this trip as a little vacation. On the way back to his seat, something caught his eye. Sunshine bathed over a woman that caused an instant argument in his head. Her brown hair glowed in the natural light, and in her reflection, two big violet eyes stared out into the French countryside, book in hand. Rather than a trip back down the aisle to his seat, Julian opted for an audible. Besides, there was a seven-year-old behind him that had been dancing up and down the back of his seat since he sat down.
"Mind if I sit here? I'm quite done with that little shite kicking the back of my seat over there," he said with a wag of his thumb over his shoulder. Julian wasn't prepared for those eyes when they hit him. They stood out shining bright against her skin tone. He tried not to grin as he studied their brilliant violet color. They reminded him of blueberry pie, his favorite.
"Heh, sure. Not sure why they let the little monsters into the club car anyway," her voice was like soft velvet being drug down his spine. Her stare was intense. Julian always had a naturally slow heart rate, but that purple gaze made his pulse race. How cruel could she be to take those eyes off of him? He had to say something to keep her attention, that her book had stolen back from him.
"Vonnegut? He's one of my favorite American authors. Tells it how it is- at least how he sees it. The one you've got there is indeed good, but if you can get your hands on one of his less-popular ones, you'd be in for a treat. It's called 'Slap-"
"...-stick'. That's my favorite book! No one I know has read it because it's so-"
"...damned depressing?"Julian's face lit up at her answer. He knew he couldn't resist this seat for a reason. Depressing or not, Vonnegut had been through some shit. Those were the types that had something worth writing about. "Aye. That's what makes it so brilliant."
Her smile told him the world wasn't important. Work was a million miles away. She was the type that deserved him to chase after with all his passion. Julian had met beautiful women, but they didn't do whatever she was doing to him. Then suddenly, with her heavenly hand extended, the beauty tossed a bomb in his lap. "Jack," she offered. His eyes betrayed him as his mind questioned a lot of things. His heart sank. He truly wanted to know this woman. He felt drawn to her. He would only see the most intimate of moments with her, her last. He took her hand in autopilot. It was warm and soft, but not too soft, the woman took care of herself. "It's short for Jacqueline." Julian felt very silly for not considering his mark to be a woman. Apparently, the work done in the hallway moments before was just a little freelance. He really hoped he was wrong.
"A pleasure. I'm Julian. Although, if we're going with nicknames, I suppose you should call me 'Jules'." Did she like his name or what she saw? Either way, her grip tightened as the nickname rolled from his tongue. Julian envied her glass as she hastily sought out its contents. Anything that touched those plump pillows for lips deserved his jealousy. Was this truly his target? She was too much of a stand out with those beautiful purples to be a professional, wasn't she?
"Pleasure is mine, Jules. If you'll excuse me? I need to visit the little girls' room," more velvet flowed from her tongue to his ears as she made a graceful exit. As she walked to the restroom, he watched her and wondered if he could bring himself to kill such a perfect form of feminine beauty. His eyes were not able to stay off her ass as she made for the door. She turned and looked at him. She knew he was watching, and he knew she wanted to keep an eye on him. All of this was confirmed in a small glance back before she slipped out of sight. Maybe he was playing games with his own mind? While she was gone, Julian's mind began to wage a war with himself. Maybe she was just into him? His instincts told him she was, but all the best predators could trick their prey. Was she to be the second meal?
He knew she was back before turning his head. Not only did her lingering gaze feel like a light string being drug gently across his neck, but her scent had the loveliest hint of jasmine and vanilla. Everything about her made him want to be closer. His hand brushed over the outline of his straight razor in his right pocket. Through his jeans, he idly pushed it up and down inside the pocket.
"I could use more wine. How about you, Jules? You a drinker?" She asked him to grab a drink, but all Julian could do was stare at her now brown lips for a moment. They weren't brown before she left. He didn't mean to, but his tongue ran across the top of his own before meeting her violet pools. She wanted to impress him. Maybe he didn't need to kill the woman, even if she was his mark? The train ride still had a couple days left. Is it wrong to play with your food either way? He may never meet a woman so captivating in his life again. Killing her would be such a drag.
"Now, aren't you just being polite? What gave it away? Course could use a drink." The seven-year-old from before ran down the aisle with his hand slapping the backs of each chair as he hummed. His mother was three drinks passed giving a fuck. "Figure there are much better places to wet our beaks. Ones without so many distractions. Could have a bottle brought back to my sleeper. Wait a tick. You don't mind a red do ya?" Julian chuckled as his hand found her knee. His own eyes glanced down for a moment in shock. He didn't mean to touch her, but he wasn't moving it now. His offer still in the air, he gave her a shrug of his shoulders. "Lest 'course, you'd rather listen to wee terrorists." He threw a thumb back to the redheaded boy now singing as he thumped chairs.
"Lead the way," her eyes said more than her words as the porter approached with a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon. He gave her a genuine smile at her casual style as she grabbed onto his hand. Julian was not one to leave a woman waiting. Despite feeling a bit uneasy about leaving her behind him, he obliged. It wasn't the fact that she might cut his life short that had him peeking back over his shoulder. He couldn't get enough of the way her eyes seemed to light up every time he smiled at her. Ending this one would be a damned shame. When they reached his sleeper, the porter poured their wine. He left the bottle and the room fifty euros richer.
"I…" She seemed to hesitate as she began. He could smell the jasmine, vanilla, and now something floral that sent alarms off through his brain as she began to step closer, breaking through personal space. Jules already had his straight razor in hand and open. The first wafts of the pungent flower were enough to let him know her next words were true. "I suppose you know I'm not here for the wine," she said, as he raised the blade out of view. Any moment now and those lips would be on him. Oh, how he wanted to taste them, if only it wouldn't kill him. Movements she didn't even see coming took to action. Julian's face never showed it. His eyes stared into those deep purple depths as pushed a cold, steel blade up against her neck hard enough to draw a trickle of blood from the tip of the straight razor.
The back of her hand drug across the front of his thigh. His muscles jerked from her electric touch, but in a moment, he had recomposed. "Aconite? Effective, sure, but it smells, you know. Bit amateurish, Jack."
"Another five minutes and you'd be calling me something quite the opposite, Julian," she said as her body pushed into him and the blade. The world was only purple now. Forehead to forehead, nose to nose, their lips were only a breath apart.
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