"Bloody perfect," Constantine gripes, tossing his cigarette aside. He holds up one hand, muttering in a strange, harsh sounding language. A fireball bursts from his palm, landing in the middle of the swarm, incinerating everything in it's path.

Bucky curses and moves to act even as Peter leaps out of the way, webbing up as many of the thicker clusters of creatures as he can for Constantine to blast.

"It's always something, damnit."