"Welcome back," Jamison said.

Theroux just stared.

"Oh, this?" Jamison picked at the black cloak he was wearing over a maroon dress shirt. "Don't mind it. Apparently it's standard issue when you join the Underworld Gods Club."

"Am I dead?" Theroux asked.

"Dead? Nah. Well, yeah. Yeah you are. Maybe. It depends on how you answer my questions."

Theroux frowned. "What questions?"

"Well, you see, you're kinda sorta my property now. Or at least your soul is. This is the routine for anyone who crosses into my Otherworld by unusual means. And let me tell you, brother, being killed as a rougarou is damned unusual."

Theroux slouched in his chair.

"First thing," J...

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