"Wait, did you bring us to California?" I asked, a bit surprised and miffed. Constantine looked back at me and flashed me a smile.
"Beverly Hills, to be precise," he said.
"Why?" George demanded.
"Haven't you heard the stories? Los Angeles belongs to the Devil."
George and I shared a look, not quite sure what to make of his declaration.
Constantine looked up and down the deserted street and started to walk up to the gated house a few houses away. "Come on," he said. "The safe house is up ahead. I know the owner. She's a bit of an acquired taste, but you'll love her. So long as you stay in the city, you should be safe."
He was facing Raven when he mentioned that last bit. She avoided his eyes, and her fingers brushed up against mine, searching for assurance. George wrapped all three unconscious sorcerers in slow vortices of blue curse energy, and we followed after Constantine.
A few people looked at us, but only in passing, as if three teenagers legging it up an empty street with barely any clothes on and three unconscious people were the most normal thing in the world.
My seventh sense revealed that he was using the same illusion spell he used back at the town again.
The gates were wrought iron and black, attached to massive stone walls, and the road up to the mansion was long and winding, bordered by dark bushes. The house itself was a massive Gothic monstrosity, with peaked roofs, gargoyles, the whole nine yards. I wondered how many HOA and LA city violations the owner of this place was breaking.
It looked like something you'd find in a pretentious graphic novel or some vampire movie.
The oddest thing about the house, however, was that it was a black hole to my senses. I couldn't hear, see, smell, or taste anything coming from the home. It was a blind spot in my otherwise perfect sphere of perception.
The whole compound felt off. I couldn't quite sense the magic blanketing every inch of this place, but I knew it was there.
Raven caught herself and stopped at the gate while we walked on.
"A demon lives up there," Raven declared. Then she looked at me, betrayed. "I thought you said I'd be safe."
"That's what I was told?" I said, shooting a look at Constantine.
"And it's what you'll get," Constantine huffed. "I told you I negotiated a deal with Lucifer fucking Morningstar; he's not going to send an angel to watch after you. I know the girl who lives up here. She's good people—well, as good as a demon can practically get. Once you get past the leather and the sex addiction, Mazikeen is decent company and a hell of a warrior."
"I'm just not sure about this…"
"Oh, come on, love," Constantine said, stuffing his hand into his pocket. "Meet her first before you make up your mind. Not every demon is crazy, ya know? I thought you, of all people, would understand that by now."
I narrowed my eyes. That was a slick bit of manipulation. Before I could find out if it worked, the demon in question appeared beside Constantine, startling the Master Magician. He dropped the cigarette he was about to fit into his mouth.
"Really, John," she said. "That's all you've got to say about me?"
Mazikeen was a tall, beautiful woman with tan skin, a voluptuous figure, and a considerable amount of leather on her. Her short skirt, boots, and jacket were made from the stuff. There was something about her eyes that seemed to draw you in and consume you…
I blinked. I'm starting to get the whole sex addiction thing.
"I was honest," John protested.
"Honest?" she raised an amused brow. "Like you were honest about your little guy that first night in—"
"We're not here for a jaunt down memory lane," Constantine cut her off with a cough. "Luci asked me to bring the girl here."
Her eyes locked on Raven, who shivered slightly and started to rouse her magic.
"Did he now?" she smirked. "A bit young, isn't she? But, ooh, she is a fighter."
Her heels clicked as she took soft steps forward. George let her pass, but I didn't, standing firmly in place, staring deep into her eyes.
"Chivalry, cute," she hummed. "But that's not why you're doing this, is it? You're a bundle of pain and anger, almost as big and juicy as those two." She flicked a finger at Raven and George. "You really think you can take me on?"
"I don't see why I would need to," I said calmly. "Constantine promised you're a nice demon, so I expect you to be. But if you aren't… I didn't stop my heart multiple times and get my soul ripped out of me so that I could transfer a girl from one prison to the next."
"And you trust Constantine?"
"Not as far as I can throw him," I said. "But he wants to hurt Artisan just as bad as I do."
"Enough to betray you and the girl?"
Constantine watched me with an unreadable expression, while George let his surprise show.
"Probably," I conceded, "but what options did I have at the time? What I'm not going to do, though, is let you hurt Raven. I gave her my word. That means something."
She pursed her lips. "He'd make one hell of a boyfriend if he wasn't so damaged, am I right?" she said to Raven, who'd powered down at some point, and then winked at me.
She spun around. "Relax, I'm not hurting her, unless she wants me to. And if she has any lick of sense, she'll want precisely that. You won't be able to protect you forever, and I suspect you don't even want to."
Mazakeen walked up the road, and Constantine stared at her ass for entirely too long before remembering we were right behind him.
"She's something, isn't she?" he said with a dopey smile.
And they say I'm self-destructive.
Read up to Chapter 173 on Patreon.com/artandcreativewriting