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He’d never stopped obsessing on it.

But it was impossible, wasn’t it?

It was pointless to think about because it was impossible.

He would never get back.

He wasn’t some kind of wizard or time-jumper or portal-creator.

The chances of there being another seer who could open portals, taking themselves and others through to other dimensions and worlds… it had to be next to nil.

Or billions and billions to one, which was basically the same thing.

Nick’s mind told him the whole thing was impossible, but he knew that was delusional too. The truth was, he had no idea if it was possible. He had no idea how he’d gotten here, so he had no idea if it would be possible to go back.

He needed to talk to Brick.

He needed to talk to Mal and Wynter. And possibly Kit.

Assuming he wasn’t dead by dawn.

On the plus side, they didn’t kill him in Wynter’s house.

They decided not to just do away with him right there.

Still, Nick had a twinge of fear when they started firing off questions.

“Is anyone else here?”

“Are you alone in the house?”

“Whose house is this?”

“Why are you outside your designated residential district?”

“How long have you been up here?”

“Why did you take your leave here?”

“Who else lives here with you?”

Luckily, Nick mostly had answers to those questions.

“No one else is here.”

“I’m housesitting for a friend.”

“I was told by my I.S.F. handler to take some time off after sustaining an injury in the line of duty that forced me to take time off work… they arranged for me to come here. Them and my fight promoter, David Farlucci…”

As soon as he said that last part, he knew it was a mistake.

He tried to talk over it.

“I’ve been here six… close to seven weeks. I have my next fitness-for-duty physical tomorrow.”

When handlebar mustache sneered about his “celebrity,” Nick kept his cool.

“Yes, all three of my I.S.F.-approved jobs approved my stay in the Northeastern Protected Area. NYPD and Archangel. Yes, the fighting too.”