For some reason, John chose to not blend in.
There was daylight, so it wasn't like no one could see them. Zatanna had gone out of her way to make it look like she was on a morning run. She had on some running shorts, a sports bra, even a headband to keep her hair out of her face, not that the high ponytail she had pulled it into didn't help with most of it. She had her disguise and was literally running with it. After all, one didn't look as good as she did without some effort.
As for Constantine, he looked as if he were pulled out of bed and threw on his usual clothes. He just followed behind her, hands shoved into his coat pockets, a burning cigarette held between his lips, and a bored look on his face.
So why had she gone to the effort to jog up and down the street for this apparent lack of effort?
"You know, you could have done more to fit in," she told him as she took up jogging in place next to him.
"It's seven in the morning and I'm half-asleep," he grumbled at her. "You're lucky I even got out of bed."
"And you'll be lucky if we share a bed again with that attitude." She began pulling away from him, this time her eyes searching around the street yet again. She was on the lookout for anything that stuck out, that shouldn't be here.
The two of them were a couple streets away from the middle school where a couple of the victims attended. The operating theory was that they could have been kidnapped on the way to or from school, so if they found the place where the kidnapping happened, they could find some other clue.
"Remind me again what we're looking for?" Constantine complained. He stuck out like a sore thumb in this neighborhood of upscale houses.
Zatanna turned around and began jogging back towards him. "Like I told you, I found out a couple of the murdered kids attended the nearby middle school. They had been snatched up at some point, and I figure the best time would be when they were heading to or leaving the school."
"Make sense. So, what, your plan is to go up and down these streets looking for where they were kidnapped?"
"Yep! And also get a morning jog in. It's cardio day."
The blond man sighed. "Not that I don't mind seeing you running up and down, but you do realize there are easier ways of doing this?"
She came to a stop next to him, placing her hands on her hips. "And what ways, pray tell, are those?"
"A scrying circle for one. We could even put it up in the air for a bird's eye view."
That gave Zatanna pause. That…actually sounded easier than her running up and down these streets with a reluctant partner. "Okay, so do that."
Constantine stared at her before he shrugged his shoulders. "You never did tell me how you figured out about these kids."
"And you never told me what you were doing selling your soul to a creepy night club owner."
Zatanna was looking pointedly at the blond man, resting her weight on one leg. Yeah, they were going to have the talk now and she was going to make it abundantly clear she didn't appreciate being left in the dark about it.
"Didn't seem important at the time," the guy grunted. He didn't even give her the courtesy of looking her in the eye when he said that, instead glancing around the neighborhood they were in.
"It's been, what, six, eight months since we first met? In all that time, you didn't think it would be a good idea to say, oh, I don't know, 'Hey, Zee, I kinda sold my soul to a creepy guy in a nightclub before we met, just wanted to let you know'?"
"That's not really something you go about advertising," Constantine retorted, finally looking at her.
"Gee, I wonder why?" she snarkily responded.
"Look, I've been doin' this a lot longer than you. The longer you use magic, the more blurry that morality line becomes. I needed Brother Night's help once, and his price was my immortal soul, so I traded it, got what I needed, and now I got it back. All in all, I have to say it worked out rather nicely."
"And what if you hadn't found that lost sword?" Zatanna pressed. "You'd still be owing that guy your soul. All it takes is for you to step in front of a bus and bam!"
"That's why I don't take the bus," Constantine quipped back. "Look, there's gonna be things I do that you're not gonna agree with. Same with me towards you. The thing is, in this business, you have to be flexible. The ones with strong moral convictions tend not to last."
"Probably because they're surrounded by a startling lack of morals," Zatanna responded archly.
"That very well be, but can you say you would be willing to let your soul get consumed by an evil hag instead of letting a demon put her down?"
"Hey, I was suffering from having my soul sucked out of me to know what was going on then!"
"But Jason Blood wasn't and he made the decision to become that demon and save us from what that evil bitch was up to. I didn't really hear you complaining about that then."
Okay, that was a fair point. It was sort of a moot point considering it was over and done with by the time she was back into her full faculties, but she saw the argument. A troubled look appeared on her face as she considered this.
That's when Constantine pulled a hand out of his coat and moved it to grab her shoulder. "It's not like I'm offering my soul up to every Tom, Dick, or Harry. I was in a bad spot and I didn't have a choice. It was either give up the claim to my soul for a while, or end up in eternal damnation. When those are your choices, it makes it very easy to choose."
That startled the young woman. "Why the hell were you facing eternal damnation?!" she exclaimed.
"That's another story and not one you share two blocks away from a grammar school."
"You are going to tell me that story, right?"
"Sure, whatever you want."
"Because I will hear that story. You're not going to hide it like you did this soul selling one."
"I heard ya loud and clear," Constantine said before he muttered, "Bloody Hell," under his breath. "So now it's your turn: how'd you learn about the kids and the school?"
Zatanna turned and began walking away, which caused the blond man's hand to fall from her shoulder. He followed after her at a sedate pace. "I decided to go back to the crime scene and use that memory spell you showed me," she answered him after a moment. "I saw how those kids were murdered."
"That doesn't sound pleasant," he remarked.
"It wasn't. A couple of the kids were wearing shirts for the school, so I figured they could have been kidnapped either to or from their way from school. If we can find the kidnapping point, then there might be a clue that was left behind."
"Not a bad idea," Constantine said as he considered this. "Anything else?"
"Yeah, there were two killers. One did the actual killing and the other one made certain the kids couldn't run away. It was the second one I noticed wearing a ring with a little skull head on it."
"Skull head, eh?" the blond man murmured. "Not a strong lead, unfortunately."
"Why do you say that?"
"Cause it's nearly Halloween in Salem. There're all kinds of spooky stuff being sold, including rings with skull heads on them. That sort of thing blends in."
Well, now that he mentioned it, that ring wasn't nearly as strong of a lead as she thought it was. Damn. She was practically back to square one. "So where does that leave us?" she couldn't help but ask in frustration.
"Looking for the kidnapping site, though I don't think it'll give us much," the blond man told her. "Just let the police handle that. If they find it, they can use the surrounding traffic cameras to follow the kidnappers that way. As for us, we can head back to the crime scene and use that spell again."
Zatanna gave him a questioning look. "Why bother? I've seen what I needed to see. I don't think watching a group of terrified kids getting killed again is going to help."
"Just call it a hunch," Constantine responded. "You've got a talent with memories. Something tells me we can glean a little bit more than what you've seen."
The troupe was just about done packing up all of the gear and equipment. They needed to clear out for the next show, which was their last before they went on break. All in all, this tour had been relatively successful.
Too bad Jeff Sloane had a sour taste in his mouth about it.
He knew why that was. It had everything to do with that guy Zatanna was hanging around, John Constantine. Just one look at him, and Jeff knew the guy wasn't good news. Zatanna had a type and that type was tall, dark, bad boys. Constantine fit that bill to a T.
It was this type of guy that got her into the most trouble too. Witness Baltimore, LA, Detroit, Gateway City, Nashville…
He had to shake his head. That was an old argument between them that hardly mattered now. A lot of things had happened between them, the events of Gotham, and now. Especially between Gotham and now.
Somehow, someway, the little girl he helped turned into a stunning stage presence had learned actual magic. He hadn't believed it until she actually did it. The possibilities for it were practically endless, he felt, once he was able to wrap his head around it. Seriously, who would have ever thought magic was real?
Jeff had been in this business long enough to know that everything was a slight of hand, an illusion created from practical effects. There was always a logical explanation. He had none when she had turned the room they had been in into a florist shop. By that, he meant flowers had grown out of the walls, ceiling, and floor. Flowers had been everywhere, filling the room with their respective scents that overloaded the nose.
There had been a couple other tricks she had pulled, but suffice to say, she proved that she had the genuine article. It was just a matter of trying to work it into the show. They couldn't whack the audience over the head with it, so it needed to be subtle, plausible with enough implausibility to it. Anything more or less threatened to lose the audience no matter how spectacular it could be.
Pulling himself out of the trip down memory lane, Jeff did a quick look around to make certain they had everything packed up. The troupe had been doing this for so long that everything was practically automatic, a well-tuned machine. It was just his nature to be a little anal about it, though. It would be the one time he didn't do several last-minute checks that they inevitably left something—or one time, someone—behind.
And yes, that one time that someone left behind had been Zatanna.
"We're just about done loading the trailers," the familiar voice of Jane Sizemore called out to him. Turning his head, the troupe manager saw his light technician approaching him with a saunter to her step.
"And I'm not seeing anything left behind," he told her too. "We're about ready to leave. Can you let Zatanna know for me?"
"Would if I could," Jane shrugged. "Last I heard, she went out jogging with that boy toy of hers."
Jeff's mood soured, his facial expression showing his displeasure. "She doesn't have her phone on her, does she?"
"In the little pair of shorts she wore, I'd be surprised if she could fit anything into the pockets, not that she needs them anymore." Jane raised her hands up and fluttered her fingers, a gesture meant to reference the magic the dark-haired woman could use. "She could say some of that weird mumbo-jumbo she uses now and a phone would pop out of thin air."
"Call her anyways then. Maybe she'll…sense the phone ringing, or something."
The woman shrugged her shoulders, but he knew she would do it. However, now he had to know something. Jane had always been a confidant for the magician and he hoped that hadn't changed since they restarted the troupe. "Jane," he called out to her before she turned to leave. "What do you think about this Constantine guy?"
"He's trouble," was her immediate answer. That wasn't something he wanted to hear.
"So you see it too," he grumbled.
"Anyone with a pair of eyes could tell that—all except Zee." Jane sighed. "But he hasn't gotten in the way of the show, so it's hard to complain about it. So long as he isn't messing with the money…" she trailed off.
That was certainly one way to look at it. If this Constantine guy was messing with their revenue, then they would have a leg to stand on in trying to get rid of him. The money they made from the shows paid the wages of the troupe, covering their expenses, and so much more. If anyone messed with that, they would have a much larger mess to deal with.
"What kind of shelf life do you give this?" he had to ask. He could only hope that it was a short timeframe.
Jane, unfortunately, let him down. "No clue. Zee's smitten with him, and you know how she gets when she's smitten. It's hard for her to see red flags until it's too late. She's still in that honeymoon phase, so we've got some time until she starts coming around."
So they were basically stuck with Constantine's presence. "This is worse than Wayne," Jeff couldn't help but grumble.
"Hey, that was different and you know it," Jane was quick to reprimand. "She was actually serious about that one. I know you weren't able to see it because she was in her double-down mode the moment you voiced your displeasure, but I talked with her then. She was actually thinking her way through with Wayne."
Well, there may have been something to that. Honestly, after Zatanna had ordered them out of Gotham during that Great Gotham Fire business, he had lost touch with her. All he knew was that she had a couple dates with Wayne, Gotham burned down, zero contact for over three years, and then she was out on the town with Wayne again. Then, out of the blue, she called him to bring back the Zatara troupe.
If you had asked him then if he thought Zatanna would get involved with someone worse than Bruce Wayne, he would have thought it was impossible. Trust the girl to one-up herself without anyone daring her to.
Now he was wishing that it was Wayne she was involved with.
"Don't tell her this, but I kinda wish she was still with Wayne," Jeff admitted. Yeah, that probably should have stayed an inner thought, but he knew Jane wouldn't go blabbing. It just wasn't her style. Don't get him wrong, she definitely liked to hear gossip, particularly Zatanna's, but she didn't spread it around.
"Thinking about how no one dared her to find someone that made the playboy a good option?" the light tech smirked at him. Jeff just glared at her, which only caused her smile to widen.
"Like I said, keep that to yourself," he grumbled.
"If it makes you feel any better, I don't see this one lasting. We just have to wait it out no matter how long it lasts. It might be awhile since Constantine isn't smothering her, which you and I both know she hates. He's kinda just giving her enough to make her want more, so there's no telling how long this will last."
Damn, why did he think talking to Jane would make him feel better about this? All she had said were things he didn't want to hear. But she did have a finger on the pulse of this relationship, so she knew better than most how it would go down.
"Then we have no choice," he said resigned. "Get in touch with Zatanna that we're about ready to head to Metropolis. It's the last show of the tour and she better be there, with or without her man."
Jane gave him a salute. "On it, Sir!" she practically shouted.
What a smartass.
They were back at the crime scene—again. This was Zatanna's third time and she was really wishing it would be the last.
Why couldn't this be an episode of Law and Order, where they're only at the crime scene once, have all the evidence collected, and they just have to go arrest the suspicious guy? She didn't like going back to the same place over and over, especially one that was filled with such bad feelings.
It was like all of the awfulness that had happened in this one place was sinking into the dirt, staining it with a blood red mark. In that way, it was just like how Salem felt to her. All of that negativity soaking into the very fabric of reality and there was no way to cleanse it.
The invisibility spell got her and Constantine back to the crime scene without the cops noticing. Again, it was a repeat of last time. At least her blond partner wasn't smoking. They didn't need him casually tossing a burnt bud away and suddenly he was linked to the crime.
It was evening time, the sun just beginning to set, so shadows were slowly becoming larger and larger as the sun edged its way past the horizon. Zatanna was in more appropriate clothing, tossing her workout clothes back into her bag and opting for a casual t-shirt and jeans. Constantine was in his usual get-up still. For a moment she wondered if he had any other changes of clothes, or did he just wear the same thing over and over?
"Alright, let's dive into that memory you saw," he grunted as he looked at all the police tape and outlines. "You lead and I'll follow."
Zatanna nodded, gathering her magical energies. Having done it once before, it felt a little easier to zero in on what exactly she wanted her spell to do. "Nruter em ot eht tnemom fo eht redrum," she intoned.
Just like before, the area around them took on a brownish tint. The police tape and outlines faded away, the children appearing as if they were exiting out of a mist. The same thing happened with their killers. She was seeing one of the children getting dragged kicking and screaming to where they had been killed. Immediately, she stopped the memory there, having no desire to follow any further.
At that moment, she realized she was the only one here seeing this. Had she done the spell wrong? Where was Constantine? If she had left him behind, then damn, it seemed she needed to work on her spellcasting.
Then he was there, stepping out from behind her. This startled the dark-haired woman as she flinched away from him, eyes wide with surprise. He had been standing a good couple feet on her opposite side when she casted her spell, so his sudden appearance was…well…
"Hmm, robes," Constantine remarked before he stepped over to the man holding the small child down. "What is it with blood sages and robes?"
"Maybe they all shop at the same discount store?" Zatanna responded. It was a bad joke, not really all that funny, but she had to say something so that she didn't get sucked into the tragedy frozen in front of her.
"It would explain a lot," Constantine agreed, then he reached out to the murderer. Surprisingly, his hand and arm went right through the guy. He pulled his arm back after a moment, staring down at his hand as if he were studying it. "So, we can't interact with the memory," he murmured.
"What do you mean by 'interacting with the memory'?" Zatanna couldn't help but ask.
"Just that. We don't know the limits of your abilities, so this is as good as any time to learn," the blond man replied. "If I could touch this bloke, I might have been able to remove that dumb hood he's wearin' and we could get a positive ID."
Now that was intriguing. What if she could mess with the memory? She hadn't thought of that, even after being able to pause, rewind, and even fast forward through this particular memory. "If we can interact with it, it wouldn't cause some weird time paradox, will it?"
"A memory is something that has already happened, so ya can't change it," he told her. "You're thinking of actual time travel, which I would suggest not tryin'. That's too much of a bloody headache when even the best sorcerers won't touch it."
Good tip. So, Zatanna walked up to her dark and mysterious date, coming to stand next to him by the memory of the murderer. Like Constantine before her, she reached out to touch the man and her arm went right through him. She didn't feel any difference with her arm, not numbness or coldness. She felt absolutely no change.
As she brought her arm back, Constantine gave her a curious look. "What was that for?"
"Well, I figured that since I'm the one in control of the spell, maybe something different would happen for me. It didn't."
Her partner nodded. "So there's your limit for now. You can see the memory, you just can't interact with it."
That made her raise an eyebrow. "For now?" she repeated.
"You're new to this, so it's possible as you get stronger and more experienced, you could do more. Or this is the way it'll always be. Hard to say."
Well, that was an attractive thought. If she got better with these memory spells, maybe she could do more with them. "So what now?"
"Now, we look around. We're currently in the memory, so perhaps there are other things close by that'll give us a lead."
And with that, Constantine turned and began walking around the murder scene. He spared a glance here and here, but for the most part he seemed uninterested in the actual murder itself. Instead, he seemed to be looking outward into the woods around them. Zatanna just watched him do this. He seemed to know what he was doing and she didn't want to interrupt his process. It was always best to let guys do what they do best when they were in their element.
Eventually, Constantine stopped, seemingly staring deeper into the woods. Then he began to walk off into it. He hadn't even said a word. Frowning, Zatanna gave chase, walking through the figures of the murders and children. It hadn't even occurred to her that she had literally walked through the memory of dead children until she was on the other side; and when it did, she couldn't help but feel bad about it. It felt sacrilegious to do something like that, like walking over someone's grave.
But she spotted Constantine over by some trees and bushes. He passed right through the vegetation much like she had with the murder's participants. PIcking up her pace, she hurried after him, passing through the trees and bushes as well.
She came to a stop a moment later. It seemed her partner had found something, that something being a large white panel van. "I think we've found our getaway vehicle," the blond man announced.
Alright, now this was something. Zatanna hadn't realized what sort of range she had by entering a memory, but now it seemed as if it covered an area greater than the immediate one. Now that was useful.
Immediately, the dark-haired woman began circling around the van, looking for anything that could identify it. The license plate was one such thing and she wished she had a piece of paper to write it down. "You wouldn't happen to have a piece of paper, would you?" she called out.
"Just memorize 'em," Constantine replied back. "We're not going to find a mountain of evidence with this beauty. We just need enough for a lead."
Zatanna didn't bother to respond, instead just stared at the license plate. LSP 17P6. She kept repeating the letters and numbers in her head. Repetition was a tried-and-true method for memorization. A theater teacher of hers had once told her that if you repeated something seven times, you had it memorized. She wasn't certain how true it was, but the idea behind it, the repetition was sound.
Looking up from the place, her mouth silently repeating the license plate's numbers and letters, she faintly wondered if she could get into the van. Seeing no reason not to at least try, she took a step towards the back of the van and leaned her face forward.
She passed right through the backdoors and then she saw the inside of the van. It was barren save for some random pieces of trash. Lowering herself, she tried to see if there was any words on the trash, seeing some, but not enough to make heads or tails on what they were. Part of that was because the paper trash was crumpled. Since she couldn't interact with it, she couldn't straighten them out.
Zatanna looked at herself then and realized she made for quite a sight. She was literally standing from her knees up in this van. At least, those were the only visible parts of her. She just glided through the van with every step she took.
Constantine's head then passed through the wall of the van nearby. "Come on out," he told her. "We got what we need."
"Find something?" she couldn't help but ask, even as she walked towards him, exiting out of the van through its side. Emerging out into the woods, she saw Constantine just staring at the van, which caused her to turn and look.
And what do you know, the van had a logo painted on the side of it. It wasn't all that big and it was mostly just letters painted in a light blue that made them almost blend in with the white of the van. She couldn't have blamed anyone for missing them.
"Rajir's Antiques and Accessories," she read out loud.
"Must use the van for deliveries," Constantine suggested. "Dumb of this Rajir bloke to use it for a murder."
He wasn't wrong there. Good for them though, they had an actual lead. Zatanna couldn't help but feel giddy about that.
"S'taht lla, sklof," she said and the brown tint of the memory faded away. Much to Zatanna's surprise, they weren't over by the crime scene and instead were standing in the woods where the van had allegedly been. Blinking her eyes owlishly, she couldn't help but ask, "Did…we walk over here?"
"Well, yeah," Constantine replied. "What, you thought we were just standing in the same place the entire time?"
"But…I walked through the kids, ya know, where they were held before getting killed. Does that mean I walked over the crime scene?"
"I have to go with yeah, pretty lady."
Oh, this wasn't good! This wasn't good at all! She contaminated the damn crime scene! And now that she thought about it, Constantine had walked around it when he was searching for the van! But…they walked through trees and stuff. Wouldn't that have stopped their physical forms even if they were viewing a memory?
She had so many questions.
So naturally as her brain was messing with her, her phone rang. Even better! Her loud damn ringtone was sure to attract someone's attention! Immediately, Zatanna shoved her hand into her back pocket; ya know, the one actual usable pocket her jeans had, thank you clothing manufacturers! She answered the call as quickly as she could. "It's me," she hissed into the receiver.
"Hey, Zee!" Jane's voice responded. "Just callin' to let ya know that the troupe is all done packing and we'll be heading to Metropolis in the morning. We would've left by now, but no one's seen ya in awhile."
"Yeah, sorry," the dark-haired woman said, trying to keep her voice down, but loud enough for her friend to hear her. It was a careful balancing act, ya know. "You guys go when ready and I'll be right behind ya."
"Sounds good. We'll see ya in Metropolis." There was a pause. "Oh, and Jeff says you better not be late. He wants to end the tour with a bang."
"Hey, if Jeff asks, then I shall deliver. Now, I gotta go, but I'll catch up with you soon. Bye." Zatanna ended the call, letting out a sigh. Constantine just stared at her, an eyebrow raised. "What?"
"Seems an inauspicious place to take a call," he remarked.
"Well, it could have been worse. It could have happened while we were in the memory."
"Doubtful. Well, it's best we move. All yer yappin' must have alerted someone we're here."
"Pfft, you insult my incredible invisibility spell. I'd be surprised if—"
A light passed over them. "Is someone out there?!" a voice demanded. The two looked towards the source. Considering how the light beam was moving back and forth, it was clearly coming from a flashlight. "Show yourselves! You are on an active crime scene! Come on out with your hands up!"
Zatanna scowled the moment she saw the gloating look on Constantine's face. She couldn't say anything, not with the cop right there within hearing distance. Her ire only increased as a shit-eating grin appeared on the blond man's face. She knew an "I told you so" look and this was definitely it.
Dickhead.