Constantine - The Novelization - Whoa is (Not)

with both suffering and the transcendence of suffering: the Spear of Destiny."Why the hell are you giving me this?"Constantine's smile became rueful. "Rules."He couldn't keep it - it was something he could never bring himself to try to conjure with.And he knew that a genuinely holy relic should be disposed of - or "put away" - according to therules of the tradition it sprang from. Angela was closer to that tradition than he was."Hide it," he advised, with a heartfelt solemnity. "Somewhere no one will ever be able to findit.""And I'm supposed to know where that is... exactly how?""Hey. The son of the Devil didn't want me for my psychic ability." His was minor-leaguecompared with hers."Always a catch," she said.He looked at her. Thinking that he wanted to go the next step with her, if she wanted that too.But there were things he had to do first. And maybe she wouldn't be interested anyway - could behe was just putting off, the inevitable rejection. A relationship with him would be a constantreminder of things she'd want to put behind her. Literally: her time in Hell, among other things.Still... she wasn't looking at him like she wanted to put John Constantine behind her."So?" Angela prompted."I've got some cleaning up to do."She looked at the Holy Shotgun. She nodded. "See you around?"He smiled. Feeling real relief. Seemed to him that was an invitation. "Yeah. I'd like that."She wrapped the relic up again, put it in her purse. She walked away, and he watched her godown the fire escape: a woman carrying the spearhead that pierced Jesus Christ in a purse she'dbought at Neiman Marcus.Constantine turned and looked at the city. Wondering what he'd say to that city, if itsinhabitants could hear him, right now... Maybe:I'm everything that never happened to you. I've seen young boys strong enough to snap your neck in onehand. And women sell their babies for the promise of a throne of fire. I've seen Hell blaze through thesestreets. I don't have the usual map of L.A. in my head, not the one everyone else has. L.A.'s got a differentgeography for me. Spilling blood and the last breath before dying mark it all out, in dark wet borders. Andno one giving a damn about it. No one at all.Constantine took a pack of cigarettes from his coat. Looked at them. And crumpled them up,tossed them over the edge. Then he took something else from his coat pocket: two specialshotgun shells. Their casings embossed with arcane symbols.God has a plan for all of us. I had to die. Twice. Just to figure that out.He loaded the shotgun shells into the gun's chamber. Backed the shotgun.Like the Book says, He works His work in mysterious ways.He peered down over the roof. The lure he'd arranged earlier was working. The thing wascoming...Wait - he lost sight of it for a moment."John-"He glanced at Angela at the door. She pointed. "On your left!"He stepped back, aimed the shotgun as she went through the door.Some people like it...The winged demon swooped down at him - the one that had gotten away at the missiondowntown...Over his head now, angling down, coming right for him... He saw its teeth plainly in thestreetlight shine, gleaming as it opened its jaws, preparing to tear into him......Some people don't.The demon came right at him. He had just time to aim the shotgun....And he blew the demon into leathery fragments. Two rounds, just to be sure. Then he blew