Those demons that usually hid in the corners like rats were now openly roaming the streets, stirring up trouble left and right.
It was making Constantine's job a real pain in the ass.
He had a gut feeling the whole ss was tied straight to Mammon's descent.
Hell, Mammon's arrival felt like it was right around the corner.
That was why the demons were acting so damn excited.
But what pissed him off most was having zero intel. He was flying completely blind.
All he knew ca from Soren and Papa Midnight: Mammon was coming.
How? When? Where? Not a clue.
Constantine had thought about swallowing his pride and asking Soren, but that damn ego of his wouldn't let him beg so kid for answers.
He'd tried Papa Midnight too. The old voodoo bastard had flat-out refused to et.
Thankfully, Angela had shown up at his door.
The female cop Soren had personally dragged into this ss.
Knowing Soren never did shit for free, Constantine figured Angela—or her dead sister Isabel—had to hold the missing piece on Mammon's descent.
So the second he confird Isabel's suicide down in Hell, Constantine hauled Angela straight to her old room in the psychiatric ward.
He was dead certain that as twins, Isabel would've left so ssage only the two of them would understand.
He needed to dig it up before Soren got here—so he could trade the info with that debt-obsessed punk.
"…So they locked her up in this shithole just because she said she could see demons?"
Constantine stood with his hands jamd in his trench-coat pockets, eyeing the room with heavy sarcasm.
Angela nodded, eyes stinging. "Yeah."
"If it really was suicide, there has to be a clue sowhere," Constantine muttered, rifling through the nightstand and under the bed. "Think hard. Any secret codes between you two? Hiding spots? Anything?"
Angela shook her head, lost. "I… I don't know what she would've left."
"Fuck!"
Constantine slamd a drawer shut, frustration boiling over. If he couldn't find sothing, Soren would own all the leverage again.
He spun, grabbed Angela by the shoulders, and locked eyes with her. "Dig deeper. Any detail at all."
Angela flinched and tried to pull away—his grip was iron. "Let go! I really don't know!"
She shoved back. "What the hell are you even looking for?!"
Constantine opened his mouth to snap sothing—
A cough cut him off.
"Cough, cough…"
"Uh, folks? This is a hospital. And I've still got a student with …"
Soren leaned in the doorway, arms crossed, watching the two of them like it was pri entertainnt.
Carrie stood behind him, peeking curiously into the room.
Constantine's face froze. He dropped his hands fast.
Angela stepped back, straightened her rumpled clothes, and shot him a glare.
"Constantine, did you figure out what happened to her sister?" Soren asked.
Constantine's face stayed cold. "Yeah. I figured it out."
"Isabel really did commit suicide. Her soul's in Hell."
He paused. "And the two of them were twins."
"So what were you two just… doing?"
Soren raised an eyebrow, gaze flicking between them.
Angela finished fixing her shirt and answered flatly, "He figured since we're twins, Isabel must've left so kind of ssage before she died."
"I actually think he's onto sothing," Soren said with a casual nod. "You could try breathing on the glass."
Angela blinked, old mories flooding back.
As kids, she and Isabel used to hide under the blankets with flashlights, or write secret ssages on foggy windows.
She rushed to the big sliding door that opened onto the balcony, cupped her hands, and blew a thick cloud of warm breath across the cold pane.
White fog spread. Crooked letters slowly appeared.
Sister, beware of demons.
Angela clapped a hand over her mouth, spinning toward Soren. "How the hell did you know that?!"
Constantine's eyes widened too, staring hard at him.
This guy wasn't just a monster in a fight—he could see the future now?
That was when he finally noticed the freckled girl trailing Soren. She looked so fragile a stiff breeze might knock her over.
Constantine let out a cold laugh. "You brought a little kid into this?"
"Soren, when did you switch careers to babysitting?"
Soren just glanced at him and smiled without answering.
Little kid?
Piss her off and she'd turn a demon into red mist with her mind.
Angela stared at the words on the glass, mories of her sister's hellish life crashing over her.
"Beware of demons…"
Tears spilled down her face. "We should've known…"
"We could both see them since we were little…"
She turned to Soren and Constantine, voice shaking. "You two already knew, didn't you?"
Constantine stayed quiet. After his trip to Hell he'd already guessed.
Twins. If Isabel had the gift, there was no way Angela was completely normal.
She'd just gotten really good at lying and hiding it from everyone.
After watching her sister get dragged off to the psych ward, Angela had forced herself to shut the ability down.
Having a gift like that in a world that didn't understand it was nothing but a tragedy.
"I should've died instead of her…" Angela sank to the floor, sobbing. "It's my fault!"
"If I hadn't lied, she wouldn't have died alone in here!"
She jerked her head up, eyes desperate as she looked at Constantine. "Please! Help wake this power back up! I need to see exactly what she went through!"
"Impossible," Constantine said flatly. He stared down at her with cold eyes. "The second you can see them, they can see you too."
"Those demons will rip you to pieces."
Angela's face went gray with despair. She turned to Soren.
He t her gaze and gave a small shake of his head.
He couldn't help with sothing like this.
Just as she sank into total hopelessness, Soren spoke again.
"Constantine, Mammon's descent plan has everything to do with her."
"What?!"
Constantine's cigarette almost fell from his fingers.
"Mammon needs a human vessel with natural psychic talent to cross over," Soren said, eyes on the kneeling woman. "Isabel killed herself to wreck the plan."
"Now that the vessel's gone, who do you think the demons will co after next?"
Constantine's face went white. "What else? What other conditions does Mammon need?!"
"And also—"
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