Oh, thank whatever deity might listen that there's no fences. John's not that much of a climber. A decent runner when needed, but, he'd rather just break the door down and be done with it. Especially when it's practically pitch dark outside.

John blinks once, then twice. He's not used to someone agreeing to something he asks for without something in return. Hell, he isn't even used to someone helping him out so willingly. It's not as if Raylan knows anything he's really done. Oh, John must look all mysterious and a bit funny in his eyes. Englishman with a thing for cigarettes, wearing a trenchcoat, going on about Heaven and Hell. Raylan hasn't heard any of the bad yet -- the things that go along with knowing John Constantine.

"Right."

Part of him wonders if Raylan will actually keep an eye out on Zed.

John half turns from him, eyebrow raised at his question. Then that classic slow smirk spreads on his face. John fishes his lighter out from his pocket and shows it off.

"It's called magic, mate." He chuckles. "I mentioned the bit about the petty dabbling, didn't I? You don't just fall into the Dark Arts on any level without already being attuned to magic somehow. Some people got a straight up gift for it. Me? Well, more of a natural inclination and a whole lot of work."

He walks ahead of him then, making his way to the backdoor of the first house. Simple backdoor. Which is why he's grabbing at it and shoving it open, motioning for Raylan to step inside first. Always better to let the copper go in. Just in case.