"It seemed Constantine had already told you why I came this time."
Su Ming looked at the brazier in the corner of the Throne Room. There was none of Hell's scorching heat here; it was bitterly cold instead.
In the dim room, two figures stood in darkness, one human and the other a demon missing half her face. They stared directly into each other's eyes.
"He told me, but why should I help you? I'm not going." Mazikeen leaned against the throne, letting her blood flow as she savored the numbness brought by blood loss.
That was precisely what Su Ming had been worried about. Why have someone else pass along the message? Naturally, because he had anticipated that Maze would be immersed in pain.
If he had shown up unannounced, he might not even have gotten to see her. And interrupting her suffering would very likely have ruined their relationship.
Constantine had not wanted to go to Maya, so he had used Gotham's affairs to scheme against Deathstroke. And Su Ming had not wanted to be the one disturbing Mazikeen—wasn't he likewise scheming against Zha Kang?
When it came to scheming against each other, the two could only be called evenly matched. Neither lost out, and neither gained an advantage.
"I won't lecture you about the consequences of monopolizing order or magic. You should understand those things yourself. I came here to negotiate terms with you."
"Those toys you gave me last time were already the sum of humanity's wisdom on Earth, weren't they? What other bargaining chips do you have to trade with me?" Mazikeen crossed her long legs, looking utterly unimpressed as she tore at her fingernails.
She pulled out her nails and pushed them back in. Blood dripped onto her armor and was slowly absorbed.
"I