I’ve been in the hero business for five years now. You’ll see me on the news under the alias, “Immortal.”

It’s not pleasant when a spear goes through your spine, and healing from it isn’t great either. My secondary power numbs the pain, but not fully. Just enough to keep me from insanity.

“You need to do what the bosses say,” says Greta, my handler, every time I complain.

“The bosses don’t know what it’s like, being out there.”

“I know,” Greta says, “They don’t.”

And the conversation doesn’t fix any of the problems, except letting me blow off some emotional steam. Which, I admit, actually helped stave off what I’m planning now from happening sooner.

I grip the roof’s rail, the night breeze kissing my face, and brace myself.

I dial the number on the black card.

“You called,” an amused, familiar voice says, “I didn’t think you would.”

“I’d like to take you up on your offer, with some stipulations added,” I say.

There’s a chuckle on the other end of the line, that slowly morphs into a full out laugh. When he calms down he says, “Let’s meet up, and we can work out a contract in person.”

I think for a moment, while I push away the chills that his laugh made crawl down my spine, “How about Liz’s Cafe on Mason Street?”

“That’s fine. I can be there in thirty minutes.”

I confirm that the time works for me. We exchange goodbyes and I hang up.

I have a dinner appointment with the villain the media likes to describe as a “vicious and ruthless psycho.”

For some reason, a wide grin is on my face. I rush back into the office and use the bathroom’s mirror to smooth down my hair and fix my tie. Once I’m more presentable I head to my car. The roads are not as clogged this time of evening, and the drive is smooth.

I get to Liz’s Cafe with time to spare, and I take a booth that’s in the corner.

A smiling waitress clacks her way to the booth. She hands me the menu.

“I’ll need another one, I’m meeting someone here,” I say.

“Sure,” she sets one down across from me, “Let me know when you’re ready to order. My name is Jannete.”

I open the menu and browse, in the mood for something different. After all, this is an extremely unusual day. Just as I settle on a pumpkin cheesecake, a man in casual dress slides into the seat across from me. I startle.

This is the number one enemy of the city? The one they call the Death Whisperer? He looks more like the poster boy for an ad targeted at a young businessman.

“Hello,” I meet his eyes and my first impression fades. Those eyes.

He reaches for my hand, and I shake it.

“Lee McPearson,” he says, “Well, one of my aliases, anyway.”

“Jacob Drasstring,” I say, “But you knew that already.”

Lee picks up the menu, and scans it, “I did.”

“What’re you getting?” he asks, seeing that I’m not perusing my menu.

“Pumpkin cheesecake,” I say, “I’ve heard it’s good.”

“Hmmm…” he says, “I’m ready to order.”

I call over Jannete, and I ask for the pumpkin cheesecake and caffe latte.

“Mocha cake for me, please, and a black coffee,” Lee says.

“I’ll bring them right out,” Jannete says, and walks to the counter.

“On to less serious matters,” Lee pulls several papers out of his bag, “I’ve written up a tentative contract.”

He hands me the small stack and I start going through them. It’s all quite reasonable. Lee wants me to act as a double agent for as long as possible, and then defect to his side. The pay listed is more than reasonable, and the terms of my privacy and rights are more than what my current bosses gave me.

“This...is really generous.” I say at last.

Lee laughs, and we both pause as our orders arrive.

I take a bite of the pumpkin cheesecake, and it’s better than my usual order.

“Listen, if I didn’t have a tempting offer, I don’t think you’d consider my terms, or stay. I’m asking you to lie to people you know. To cheat and steal and...become the city’s next most hated villain.”

Those words make my heart shrivel. Because Lee--no, the Death Whisperer is right.

“I can’t stay there, either,” my voice is hoarse, “And we all know you have a goal beyond your cruelty,” I internally wince, hoping he’s not offended at my word choice.

But all he says is, “True.”

My heart winds up again, and I feel the thump of my pulse in my veins. I need to be clear about my boundaries. The steps I’m willing to take and those I’m not.

“I won’t hurt innocents, no matter what they see or hear.”

“I can understand that.”

“And I won’t maim my more capable teammates. I’ve had to heal from those wounds before, and it is not pleasant.”

“That’s fine, we can come up with alternative methods.”

“And...I don’t want to take your place. I’m not your heir, or replacement.” I swallow, “I want to be able to walk away from this one day.”

Lee meets my eyes, his blue black ones, again, causing me that almost physical distress. Monster.

“Okay,” he says very softly, “So we have a deal?”

“Yes.”

Lee marks up the contract he brought with my addendums, and passes it to me to sign.

He hands me a pen of his own, a fountain pen with ink so dark red it’s almost black.

“You can keep that,” he says.

I sign my name.

I work for the devil now.