"Tell me that you want to go," Stryker said, his eyes trained on Jamie's face carefully, "And we will. No questions asked."

Jamie didn't answer. His face had paled and terror lit up his eyes. His hands were clawing at each other as he stood there on the sidewalk, the dying afternoon sun on his shoulder. Yet, he didn't say it. Not when his gaze flicked to the decrepit sign that dangled from the archway, nor when his eyes found the dust-stained window, peering through to the place that had once been a literal hell to him.

Of all the places he had imagined that he would end up, standing...