A small glass bottle sat to the right of the dinner plate. Zatanna's soul was inside it. Clearly, even trapped in a bottle, the young magician was brimming with astonishing vitality, watching Constantine with deeply worried eyes.
Obviously, Zatanna had awakened before Constantine and witnessed everything Schiller had done.
She could not say that the two demons fighting inside Constantine had set a bad precedent, because demons were always like that, and magicians ought to be used to it. But if they had not been so vicious and belligerent, the food on the plate would not have been giving off such an obvious evil aura, leaving her with almost nowhere to hide inside the bottle.
Zatanna had always been compassionate. Even after becoming a vampire, and despite barely being able to save herself, she still had the spare attention to worry about Constantine.
This damned bastard probably would not get away unscathed this time. Yet even at this point, Zatanna could hardly say it was entirely a good thing. She knew Constantine well. If he had never gotten involved in the vampire affair, neither her soul nor Zan's would have ended up here.
It feels like he won't be able to bluff his way through this time, Zatanna thought, because this isn't Batman. He's far more difficult to deal with than Batman.
Yet Constantine still seemed completely unfazed. His hands hung naturally at his sides, utterly unconcerned about the ropes binding him. He even clicked his tongue and asked, "Got a cigarette?"
"Do you need to smoke before you can talk?"
"What do you want me to say?" Constantine sniffed. The hoof on the plate gave off an enticing scent of spices, mingled with an unusual meaty fragrance and the evil aura detectable only to magicians. It was a challenge