Tall Cold Glass of Murder || A Pressing Appointment

[Nadia Aeron]

January 7, 2022

The table is cold against my back. My eyes strain to see. In the all encompassing shadows, a voice calls out my name. "Nadia. It's time for your favorite part." I shiver as a wave of cool air blows across my skin, causing it to break out in gooseflesh. The fluorescent lights flicker a few times and come on in a blinding flash. In the light I can see the bindings that hold me to the table. A soft tap, tap, tap heralds the speaker's approach and I feel the icy touch of a finger delicately tracing my collarbone. "It's my favorite part as well." I try to turn my head to see her speak but she twines her fingers through my hair and grips. I wince. "I didn't say that you were allowed to look around. It's time now that you woke up." A crystalline dagger held by lovely cyan fingers enters my field of view only for an instant and a white hot line of pain sears across my throat.

Nadia awoke in a state of panic and a cold sweat, gasping. It was early and it was cool in New Orleans, the sky the color of lapis lazuli. An aura of fear clung to her along with her wet shirt. She knuckled her eyes and stripped her shirt off over her head. Her sheets were soaked and they stuck to her as she threw her blankets off and rose from the bed. There was no way that she was getting back to sleep. She ran her fingers through her hair, walked to the bathroom, turned the tap on the shower, and slowly walked to the kitchen. A loud, sharp sigh emanated from the girl. She slapped her hands down on the marble counter next to her sink with enough force to make the silverware jump. A knife clattered to the floor and she jumped away from it. In a heartbeat she went from terrified, scared out of her wits, to enraged. Scarlet blossomed between her eyes. Just a dream. She couldn't believe how badly Frost had gotten under her skin.

The woman picked up the recently flung piece of silverware and gingerly placed it back onto the counter. She turned, rotating at the waist, and looked back toward her room. The sun was coming up. Nadia's house was painted in cream and rose and the light filtering in through the curtains gave the whole place a sense of warmth and comfort. It was an intentional effect. She still felt the cold of her dream seeping up from the crown of her head and trickling down over her spine. Nadia shook her head, and let out a noise that was a mix of anger and disgust.

"Ugh."

She strode back into her room, her demeanor changing from anger to one of purpose. Her steps were quick and decisive. Time was moving forward with or without her so she dove into her morning. A quick shower, just long enough to scrub herself clean and wash her hair. Then a breakfast of strawberries, a fried egg, a crisp red apple, and orange juice. A hundred sit ups. Thirty pull-ups. A quick rest and a bottle of water before a two mile run. By the time Nadia returned home the sun was beaming down onto her skin, and New Orleans was no longer cool. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand as she unlocked her front door. On the opposite end of the foyer, an imposing sound system stood in stark, sleek, black contrast against the pale wall. She approached it and fed it a disk. Soon after the ambience of a wetland started drifting its way through the house, and then, clawing its way up out of the sounds came delightful music.

With the stand-up bass plucking at her spine and the oboe dragging its nails down her shoulders and across her back Nadia retrieved her laptop and quickly moved from her bedroom to the living room. Both times as she crossed the threshold of her room she got chills. The previous night's dream was a doozy. The living room, like the rest of her house, was sparsely decorated. A few pictures of her mother on a bookshelf. An off white couch. The television was by most people's standards exorbitant. Nadia sat cross-legged on the couch and opened her computer. It was nice, but by no means was it spectacular. She closed her eyes and nodded her head in time with the music as the boot screens flashed by and the computer woke up.

Her desktop was neat and orderly, the icons arranged in even rows. The background was a picture of some guy she found on the internet. She bit her lip and looked into his eyes for a minute then opened up her internet browser and navigated to her e-mail. Thirteen new messages. All of them were crap except the third one down. Her heart rate picked up as she clicked on the link. She hadn't heard from Sasha in awhile. He didn't often contact her unless he had a job for her to do. When she first met Petrov, she was terrified. He'd somehow found out about her.

He walked into her office, a blatant display of his ability to skirt the law, and right up to her. "Miss Aeron, we need to have a little chat." He spoke with the air of someone who was entirely unconcerned, like the whole world was beneath him. His piercing eyes looked right into her, right through her. She couldn't put her finger on it, but something about him struck her like a live wire. She was frozen, unable to even speak. "My name is Aleksandr Petrov and I have something of a- uh, how should I put this -business proposition for you. I know about the girl. From Tucson. Pretty thing. It's really too bad about her folks." He paused for a moment and looked about the room. Nadia was petrified. He knew. The bastard knew. Her fists clenched and unclenched as she tossed around in her head the idea of picking up her microscope, smashing that pretty face of his in, and making a run for it. He yanked the wheeled office chair out from under her desk and sat leisurely in it.

"The point is, I found out about her, and I'm sure others can too. I can help you to make her, and any others, disappear. Provided," he went on, his voice hinting at some of his enthusiasm, "That you're willing to work with me once in awhile. You will be well compensated. Well enough that you wouldn't ever have to come into this place ever again." He stood and approached her as though she were just a normal girl, and not a cornered predator, and stuck his hand out for a shake. The stupid smile on his face made her want to scream. "What do you say?"

She opened the message and read it over quickly, her finger absently tracing the line on her neck that still hurt from the dream.

---

To: Nadia Aeron
From: Aleksander Petrov

Task: Elimination
POD: $100,000
Target: Leonardo Petrelli
Location: New Haven, Connecticut

Mister Petrelli has continuously refused my offers to consolidate his black market weapons business under the Petrov name and has even gone as far as to threaten my current deals in the area. Be sure to eliminate him and anyone who gets in your way; the remaining members of his organization should get the message once you’ve done your part.

---

Connecticut. The last time she'd been to Connecticut was to attend the Gala for her LT. She met that succulent redhead there. She deleted the message and moved about, getting ready for the trip. She called the office and let them know that she'd be out for a few days, maybe a week. Booked a flight to the Tweed-New Haven Regional Airport. The rest of the day was long and lazy with spurts of productivity. She found Petrelli's last known location: A hotel in Gotham. She booked a room at a motel down the road and finished packing.

---

To: Aleksander Petrov
From: Nadia Aeron
Subject: Petrelli

Our mutual friend will no longer be a problem by the time this week is out. I'm flying up to New Haven later this afternoon. I'll keep you posted.

---

The trip to the airport, and the subsequent flight up the coast were both short and without complication. Where it had been sunny and warm in Nouvelle Orleans it was cold and overcast in New Haven. Nadia pulled a coat out of her carry on after exiting into the terminal and wrapped a scarf around her neck. A rented Toyota Corolla was waiting for her, dark grey and unassuming. It was only a short drive south to Gotham. The traffic, seemingly in direct opposition to her home, was terrible. What should have been a quick twenty minute jaunt down the highway took over an hour. "This is what I get for driving at eight o'clock on a Friday."

The motel was warm and inviting, if somewhat divey. The lime green paint that heralded its construction in the seventies had lost some of its luster and was peeling in several places. The parking lot was nearly empty, only a few junky looking cars taking up space in the northern corner. Our protagonist parked her trusty steed close to the office and collected the key to her room. A short, cold walk across the parking lot with two heavy bags left Nadia standing in front of the lemon-yellow door whose paint was equally faded and peeled. The key went into the lock was a grating squeal and the deadbolt made a satisfying clack as Nadia turned the key. The door whined as she nudged it open with her hip and stepped over the threshold.

[Louise Lincoln]

Petrov Mansion
New York City, New York
06 January, 2022; 21:43-5UTC

The city of New York was a place known by many names, they ranging anywhere between anything as ridiculous as the ‘City of Dreams’ to the ‘City that Never Sleeps’, but if one woman had to christen it the title would be something far more realistic: ‘Hell on Earth’. No matter where a person went in that dreadfully overpopulated excuse for a living quarters they could always find themselves surrounded by far too cheerful music and far too many living bodies. The thought of dwelling in such a place was enough to practically make Louise’s skin crawl, but thankfully enough she knew how to avoid the travesties that made her debate cutting the population of the city in half. It just so happened that dabbling in the mansion of Aleksander Petrov was one of those items, though after finding that her main source of entertainment was far more enthralled in sending a message to a certain thorn in her side the female half wished that she had gone on that rampage.

“I really do not get what you see in her,” Louise mused as she plucked a glass of white wine from a tray besides the couch, she gracefully waltzing around the stark white cushions so that she could peer over the shoulder of the man who owned – well everything. The words ‘elimination’ and ‘Leonardo Petrelli’ were the ones that stood out the most, she knowing well that the man in question was someone who had begun to royally piss off Aleksander with his childish antics. In all honesty she was more than a little surprised he had let the whelp carry on for as long as he had, but hiring this girl of all people to deal with Petrelli was an insult in the eyes of Louise.

A small noise of indignation passed her darkly painted lips as she leaned into the backing of the couch, one arm hanging loosely over Aleksander’s shoulder while the other allowed her to sip from the glass. ”Miss Aeron has proven to be quite the valuable asset in the short time that I’ve employed her,” the male stated calmly, though the undertone he had adopted conveyed clear amusement towards the irritation which his guest displayed at the very mention of her name. Of course a more sensible person would have tried to feign some sort of tolerance in a situation such as this, but Louise hardly felt the need to do so considering how disgustingly rehearsed Aleksander was in her mannerisms and tastes. ”The last mission I sent her on was completed in less than seventy-two hours and I barely felt the need to check in on her once it was completed. Sure, she may be a messy little thing at times, but she’s vastly improved from her rendezvous in the desert.

”She may even prove as efficient as you.”

It took all of the icy vixen’s self restraint not to slash Aleksander’s pretty little eyes from his head right then, though it did not halt her from freezing over the glass which, rather than being perched, was how clenched between her finger tips. If there was one thing she absolutely despised it was being compared to children who had yet to earn their place amongst the filth she tolerated on a daily basis and in the case of Miss Nadia Aeron? Well it was more than evident that Louise hardly found her to qualify an infant in the grand scheme of things. The mere thought of sharing even a miniscule percentage of her ranking with that girl made Louise contemplate painting the pristine walls of the Petrov Mansion ‘New Orleans Red’; luckily for her being reprimanded by an irate mafia leader for such an action was not on the top of her priorities list.

Dropping her now frigid drink onto the plush cushions which the male was seated, she quickly abandoned him for the dancing flames which were confined behind a case of glass in the corner of the room – far away from him might she add. The task of getting under her glittering skin was a task few knew how to do efficiently let alone without losing their heads, but this male in particular was able to accomplish it in less than three minutes time! She did not appreciate said item in the slightest, but the promises of information concerning Ronald Raymond was far too alluring to destroy in a fit of bloodied rage. Aleksander would be permitted his little pleasantries for the time being, but him having his way did not necessarily mean that Louise would fall into his traps let alone twist her words about any further. Silence on her behalf was an odd thing to say the least and one which did not go unnoticed, hence the continued flow of words from the lips of the male as he relocated her glass to a much more appropriate location. ”Come now, love. I was only teasing! Surely you don’t believe I would find her to be more delectable than you.”

From behind the young woman the sound of items being adjusted against the glass table could vaguely be made out, something that she did her best to ignore right up until the searing palm of her partner pressed against her shoulder. It was a simple gesture and one that most would have ignored if done to themselves, but seeing as nobody dared touch Louise without her permission the action took on a much more profound meaning; he truly wanted her attention. ”How about this then: I’ll pay you your usual wages to go ensure that our dear little Nadia does not do anything… regrettable on her latest voyage. You can consider it a paid vacation on my behalf and besides,” - he paused for a moment, a devilish smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he leaned in closer to Louise’s ear - ”what could be better than surprising the woman who practically idolizes you?”

---

Hotel
New Haven, Connecticut
07 January, 2022; 19:00-5UTC

The trip to New Haven, Connecticut was one that took a little less than three hours time thanks to the driver which Louise had procured from Aleksander, he doing everything that was asked of him without a second thought. She knew that he was most likely only doing so to ensure his own life – the men who worked under the Petrov name were well aware of her malicious nature after all - , but the simple fact that he never hesitated in her presence was a pleasant change and rather useful when it came to gathering information on Leonardo Petrelli who was, apparently, a much busier man than previously thought. He had several allies in both narcotic and weapon dealings that eventually tied into Gotham City despite his claimed specialty in the latter alone. It was such a shame that he refused to do what Aleksander asked of him for the extended connections could have proven useful – not that they would not have been gained by the Petrov Mafia sooner or later anyways.

“Excuse me Miss Lincoln, but we have arrived.” The driver spoke to her in a rather monotonous voice from the front of the car, his eyes never leaving the road like the well behaved little toy that he was. She could not help but to smirk ever so slightly at this simple fact, she leaning forward to place a chaste yet searing kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, sweetheart. I will be sure to ask for you if I require anything in the next few days,” the female stated before sliding out of the car, her heels clattering against the ground as she strolled up to the room which Nadia would be receiving the keys to in a few hours time.

The first thought which crossed her mind upon entering the temporary living quarters was that it was just so… homey for everything in the quaint little room was glazed over with a worn look that no sane person actually enjoyed. Sadly it would have to do for the time being since her presence on this mission was to be a surprise, but that did not mean adjustments could not be made to while she waited. Within five minutes time Louise would have the heat turned up to approximately eighty-five degrees, her obsidian jacket discarded across the pastel blankets of the bed along with nearly her entire outfit and heels. She was left in nothing but black lingerie and an open white button down by the end of it, but she could truly care less what anyone saw her in. The confining properties of normal attire which prevented her from absorbing the warmth which she craved were never something she enjoyed anyways.

With a small twist of her hips the perched herself in one of the dreary chairs the room supplied its occupants with so she could be more comfortable. Nadia was due to arrive in approximately half an hour by this point, so she kept herself occupied with a bottle of red wine which she had found in the back of the miniature refrigerator until the door rolled open to reveal one very disheveled child. “It is nice to finally meet you, Miss Aeron,” the icy vixen purred once the lights were switched on, she raising the glass of crimson liquid to her delicate lips in a fruitless attempt to conceal her amusement.

[Nadia Aeron]

When the door opened, it was like a portal to a different world. Heat roiled across the threshold out into the bleary Gotham evening like a wave onto a beach. It wasn't the wave of warmth that had Nadia breathing like a drowning victim, though, Oh no. Thunder crashed and lightning split the sky open as Nadia looked her worst nightmare, her best dream, right in the frigid powder blue eyes.

Everything atomized in that instant.

Her vision shattered into shards of color, cerulean on crimson and obsidian on pollen. She couldn't breathe. Gooseflesh tightened across her skin despite the heat and she dropped her bags on the pavement as the first droplets of rain began to fall like bullets from the Gotham sky. A taijitu floated across her vision under a glass of chianti. Nadia shook her head violently to try to steady herself, and she took two steps back from the it's time for your favorite part door in a useless attempt to pull away.

"Nadia."

Nadia's eyes scour the photograph in her hands, learning every line on the porcine man's face. The rest of the world is distant as she commits it to memory. Aleksander keeps his place warm and lavishly decorated. Actually, thinking about it, he keeps himself warm and lavishly decorated. She hears his voice, like velvet, the second time he speaks.

"Nadia."

She waits for him to say it a third time before she looks up. Petrov's blue-green eyes are boring into her, leveled at her like the barrel of a gun. "There's plenty of time for that later. Sit down, have a drink."

He gestures at a plush leather couch and stretches luxuriously on a second one. Nadia sits across from him, places her hands in her lap, and crosses her legs, the corner of her lips turning upward as her skirt hikes up and she catches him casting a furtive glance downward. "I've got no need for drink, Sasha," she says evenly. Her speech is well articulated, an attempt to eradicate her New Orleans accent. "But you have something else I need. Louise Lincoln."

Petrov's eyes widen. Not so much in surprise as amusement. He sits up and rests his elbows on his knees, leaning forward and meeting Nadia's gaze again. "What could you possibly want from Killer Frost?" He looks at the bay windows, their gorgeous view of New York, and grins. "She's way out of your league, kid."

"It's none of your business what I want with her, Alex." She stands, looming over him in her heels. "And none of your business what league I'm in." As usual he seems like he doesn't even know that he's in the room with a seasoned killer. With a predator. It infuriated her, caused her cheeks to flush and her breathing to speed up. Dots of red danced at the edges of her vision.

"Oh, did I make you angry? You only ever call me Alex when you're angry." He stands as well, tall enough to be eye-to-eye with the murderess despite the heels."On the contrary, Miss Aeron. It's very much my business who you talk to and why. Louise is not known for her patience, and she's as likely to gut you as she is to kiss you."

Nadia steps forward, bringing herself only inches away from him. When she speaks she allows some emotion to color her voice, the cadence of her city slipping into her words. "I need to talk to her, Sasha. I just can't tell you why."

"If you can't trust me enough to tell me why, Nadia, I can't trust you enough to acquiesce."

Her vision came back in bits and pieces, a sliver of armchair here a block of wall there, a swathe of cerulean skin. The rain was coming down in sheets. Nadia took in a heady breath of the cool air and dragged her things it's my favorite part as well into the dream-like warmth of the room. The door shut. She dropped her bags again. Jumbled and terrified, frazzled and exhilarated, our protagonist fell against the door. The impact knocked out a shuddering breath as if to expel the sea of emotions that were flooding poor Nadia.

The vision at the other end of the room shifted, dripping amusement. Its shaded lips opened and Miss Lincoln's sultry voice poured over Nadia's ears, coiled in droplets over her shoulders and down her spine. Nadia stood again. The motion of rising drained all of the fear from her, it seeped from her skin and pooled in a small terrified puddle on the carpet. Our protagonist took two steps forward toward her nightmare, her dream.

With her eyes wide, Nadia drank in the sight of Louise's form, her eyes sticking to the crook of Miss Lincoln's neck, the swell of her breasts, the curve of her hips. Nadia was convinced, at this point, that she was going to die. Visions clawed at her fragile consciousness of the wintry siren deciding that it was time to stop languidly lounging in the chair and standing. Walking calmly, even aloofly, up to our protagonist and jutting one of her oh so beautiful crystalline daggers up under Nadia's ribs.

"Miss Lincoln. Sasha didn't tell me you were to accompany me. It's," she paused, consternation flickering across her face as she searched for the words. "A pleasure to meet you." She extended a hand, not sure it's going to come back.