The Hellhound's Quest of Justice

Chapter 11: Taking Sides

Meanwhile in the dead of night in London, England at a pub called the Red Lion. There John Constantine, the master of the dark arts was sitting on his arse drinking away with a smoke in hand. His lips curled up into a smile as approaching footsteps came behind him.

"I'd actually thought I would never see you again, luv." John grinned as he turn to greet Zatanna Zatara. The very last person he'd thought coming to seek him out and by the looks of her face. He knew something was up.

"Jesus, sit down luv. "

"Oye, give me a scotch on the rocks," John ordered.

"I'm not here to drink, John." Zatanna snapped.

"Well you need one. What's got you all jumpy, luv? Not a lot of opportunities with the gents at the Justice League?"John laughed drinking his brandy and inhaled his smoke.

"We are searching for a suspect of old magic when I tried the locator spell it-" Zatanna couldn't even finish her words.

"Burn you?"John questioned blowing the toxic smoke out of his lungs.

"So you know it?" Zatanna sighed in her voice was relief and excitement, meaning she'd just discovered something beyond her power.

"It's ancient magic that I messed with a long time ago, luv. Earned a few burn marks myself."John explained opening the few buttons at the top of his shirt. Zatanna runs her fingertips over the burn marks then John yanks her onto his lap, surprising her.

"For old time sakes, luv. Why don't we shag like we used to?"John suggested. Zatanna pushes him away smacking him square in the face and storms out of the pub with cheers and whistles behind her.

"You alright, John?" The bartender asked; John gulps down Zatanna's drink quickly.

"Never better, mate. I did her a favor."John grinned until the pub door slams open and all heads turn from their drinks but not John who swallowed another shot.

"Oi, the black hound that's howling below my flat! Get rid of the o' bitch! I have to work in the bloody mornin'!" A man bellowed but all the men in the pub turn back to their drinks and ignored the man.

"The name of the owner is on the collar ye, wankers so whomever is John Constantine get the hound off my property!" He announces and John froze hearing the mention of a black hound. Abruptly he stood up, paid for his drink for the first time in months then marched outside without saying anything and walked across the street but paused when he saw a pair of red glowing eyes and meeting his glaze. A cold shiver ride up his back meanwhile Cristina Knight held the end of a leash that was connected to a collar around her neck, twirling it.

"Evening, John. You've grown since last I saw ye, mate." She greeted him in a perfect British accent with no hint of American. He gulped, silently and tried to figure a way to either defeat her or somehow escape but eventually he knew she'll find him. She noticed his silence and smiled at that.

"Ye, still won't forgive me of that, eh?"

John snaps. "You wanked me in the middle of London square then disappeared!"

Cristina snickered, covering her mouth to keep her from laughing out loud. "John, you were young and I took advantage of ye. Aye, I admit that but I have another proposal for ye."

"Bullocks, Princess!" John refused turning to leave; she appeared in front of him then wraps her arms around his neck. Her eyes glowing like flames in the dead of night that kept John at bay from moving.

"Even now, John . . . You quiver." She whispered to him as her claw-like hand ripped apart half of his shirt and revealed his burn marks yet he saw her frown at the sight. While her fingers stroke his scars. John suddenly felt like she has changed, not but appearances but something was different.