Constantine - The Novelization - Whoa is (Not)

infused with sacred symbols, divine energy, that if he tried to freeze its works or knock it aside,his own power would come back at him, rebounding violently: karma in its purest, mostimmediate form.He lowered his hands. He waited."Where's the chair?" Constantine demanded. Midnite let out a long slow breath, turning hisbody in the hopes of keeping Constantine from seeing the spell-casting movement of his righthand. If he could send a pulse of force against Constantine's body, missing the gun..."I offer no aid to one side or the other," Midnite said, feeling the power build up in his hand."The Balance.""Screw the Balance," Constantine said simply. Constantine, for his part, knew what wascoming.He didn't want to shoot Midnite. But -While Constantine was making up his mind about what to do, Midnite struck, flashing hishand out, sending a pulse of magical energy that struck the occultist, knocking him back into thewall to one side of the door, the impact sending the gun flying from his grip to clatter across thefloor, shedding sparks.Furious at himself for being caught off guard, Constantine fought to keep his feet, the windknocked out of him.Midnite vaulted the desk, coming at him like a runaway freight train. "You dare. In myhouse!"Midnite slammed his hand hard into Constantine's chest, staggering him against the wall,power flickering between his fingers, power enough to pin Constantine against the wall or toreach inside him and stop his heart cold between one beat and the next.Midnite was a man of power - and that power was about face and self-belief and respect, amana that built up according to his psychological dominance of his territory. And Constantinehad threatened that. Constantine had broken in, and worse, had drawn a weapon on him. Thispale magician was making demands of him on his own power-ground!Dissing Midnite had consequences - supernatural and physical."What do you know?" Constantine wheezed. "You can still do the right thing!" He heldMidnite's eyes; their wills locked. And Constantine's was strong enough to hold Midnite inabeyance long enough to speak his mind. He caught his breath, and went on."Neutral, Midnite? Bullshit. You're the only one still playing by the rules. And while you'vebeen imitating Switzerland, people are dying. Not zombies. People that matter. Hennessy.Beeman. They were your friends once too. Slaughtered. And there's so much more blood tocome. Don't you get it yet, Midnite? We're at war! Nobody's neutral! Not anymore!"Midnite just returned stare for stare. He was not going to let down his guard for mere rhetoric.Constantine played his last card. "I need your help."He smiled wryly - he knew it was absurd to ask for help after bulling his way in here. Butthey'd known each other a long time. And Constantine had once saved Midnite's life. "Considerit a last request, Midnite."Midnite thought about it for a second or two that seemed to last a lot longer. Then he steppedback. "You play a dangerous game.""Honestly," Constantine said. "What have I got to lose?"They both knew what he meant. He was destined to go to Hell when he died. The suicide hadworked - even though he'd been brought back. What could Midnite do to him that would beworse than Hell?Midnite shook his head, and fished in an inside coat pocket for a key. He led the way to anarrow side door.Constantine followed, looking down at his shirt where Midnite's bolt of magical energy hadstruck him against the wall. It was singed."Two-hundred-dollar shirt, by the way," Constantine remarked.