The problem with putting one former Lord of Hell and a Laughing Magician on the floor together was that the latter tended to leave signs of himself all around, including magical energy. Whoever had sweeping duty probably didn't like the occasional cigarette end Constantine left in his wake. Weirdly enough, the smell of smoke didn't follow him or lay around thanks to a minor spell that drew it into his trenchcoat. Probably the only way Shudder had agreed to let John smoke where he wanted.

If one were sensitive to magical energies, they were everywhere on the floor John and Lucifer lived on. Tiny wards hid among Shudder's powerful sigils. Traces of spells Constantine used on himself dusted places - like Lucifer, Constantine made himself seem less there via magic to pass in and out. Whether that was due to Lucifer's appearance was anyone's guess.

The Magician himself finally put in an appearance on the rooftop where Lucifer had been exiled to smoke, poking around with a thin wooden dowl into the small piles of clutter. "Come on out, Mange. I know you're around somewhere."