Nicole was sitting in the study, reading his favorite book when the doorbell rang. Frowning, he closed the book. He wasn’t expecting company this morning, not at this hour.
He rose from the chair, slipping into his long silk robe as he did so. “Not another one,” he grumbled, opening a drawer and retrieving a long knife with a moderately curved blade. He’d better go see who it was this time.
Feet padding silently on the lush carpet, Nicole called out, “Hold up a moment, I’m coming!”
He opened the door to reveal a man he’d never seen before armed with a silenced 9 mil. The gunman’s cocky smile faltered, his eyes registering surprise at the sight of Nicole in his night clothes. Yeah, Nicole got that reaction a lot. He was really very striking, especially this early in the morning, his long corn silk hair hanging to his waist and all.
“I don’t suppose a bribe would help?” Nicole offered prettily.
The gunman snapped back into focus, his smile back and cockier than before. “Ain’t about the money, fag.”
Nicole rolled his eyes. Honestly, the bigotry in this business was getting old. They never even used the right slurs. “Do we really have to do this so early in the day? Mornings are my only me time.” He tightened his grip on the knife, angling it to reflect the sun’s rays.
The ploy worked like a charm. Momentarily distracted, the gunman chuckled. “Boy, you are one dumb son of a bitch--”
Quicker than lightning, Nicole flashed knife blade up, slashing the man’s wrist, causing him to drop the gun. The man had enough time for a single, surprised squawk before the knife slashed across his throat. As the man sank to his knees, clutching his bleeding neck, Nicole made three quick jabs into the chest cavity, stabbing into his heart. The man died on his back, his face frozen in a twisted expression of unbelief. Yeah, that was pretty common, too. No one ever expected him to be as good as his reputation.
“I’m sorry, you were saying?” Nicole turned his attention to the blood currently drying on the front of his blue silk robe and night gown. “Damn it, I really liked this nightie. That’s another one ruined. Asshole!” He closed the door, turned toward the kitching, and began stripping his soiled nightclothes off. “You’d think they’d at least have the decency to come after noon,” he mumbled irritably.