Constantine - The Novelization - Whoa is (Not)

He looked at her. Hadn't he told her to stay the hell away from him? Was everyone going tobe stupid and walk in front of a juggernaut, whistling a merry tune as they marched blithely tocertain death?"But you knew that," she went on. "Didn't you." He had suspected. But he said nothing. Shetook a step into his room. There was something about that step - like crossing a line. Comingover to his side, in someway."You see something in me," she said. "Something Isabel had...""Go home, Angela." Constantine looked at the cigarette in his hand. Almost burned out. Theway he felt, he identified with the cigarette.Angela came in, wandered around, looking at the oddities that constituted his "interiordecorating.""I need to understand, John."Constantine just shook his head. "You don't want to know what's out there. Trust me on this."''I'm not Isabel.""No. She embraced her gift. You denied yours. Denial is a better idea. It's why you're stillalive. Stick with me, that'll change. I don't need another ghost following me around."Another ghost, he thought, staring at me reproachfully, asking, 'Why didn't you do something?Why didn't you save me?"Constantine got up, and started toward the door. If she wouldn't leave, then he would. Maybeshe'd have a few more days before the end... if she stayed away from John Constantine."Dammit, John - they killed my sister!"He stopped for that one. Sensing she'd go on without him, with that kind of motivation.Angela continued, softly, meaning it: ''I'd trade places with her if I could."He just looked at her, waiting.She went on, "I used to pretend I didn't. See things, I mean. By the time we were ten, theystarted forcing her to take pills, have treatments. They'd come for her and she'd look at me andsay: 'Tell them. Tell them, Angie. You can see 'em too.'''Tears were streaming down her face now. But her eyes had a hard gleam to them behind thetears."But I lied. I said I didn't see anything. And then one day, I finally stopped seeing. I left her,John. All alone." She turned away. Took a deep breath. And added, with finality: "I can't lookaway anymore."She turned to him. It was there in her face: She was determined to go on, investigating thisthing. And though she was clearly afraid to do it alone, she was going to do it, with him orwithout him. Either way, the Enemy would take notice of her. But if it took notice of her withoutConstantine around, she'd be a sitting duck. Defenseless. He sighed. He was left with no realoption..."You do this," Constantine said slowly, "and there's no turning back. You see them - they seeyou. Understand?"Angela just nodded.--The car had broken down on a surface street, near the Los Angeles airport, and Francisco hadflagged down a taxi, which cruised through the early evening past a row of high-rise hotels. Theyellow taxi was driven by a rangy, wide-mouthed black man with a dollar sign shaved into eitherside of his head and a Raiders jacket that seemed three sizes too large for him. The man waslistening to something on the radio. Talking rather than singing, but to a beat.Francisco had heard some variant of this music in Chihuahua. Irritating stuff, but it interestedhim in a way. He touched the iron spike and listened. Something about slapping female dogs,and making them work as whores for him. Ah! This word for female dogs must mean women.Something about ruling the neighborhood, annihilating enemies, giving the biggest parties,