Til Death

36. Blake

BLAKE

The present came back to Blake like the sky had fallen, the universe crushing him underneath its weight. Sometimes when Blake knew he was having a nightmare, he could stir himself awake. However, Blake couldn't escape tonight's endless torture. It was like struggling at the bottom of the ocean, drowning in darkness, and fighting the sink of sand. His muscles pounded and as he roused awake, Blake discovered a hot sticky wetness covering his cheeks.

Blake groaned and fought his own body to try to get up, slowly gaining ownership again. He had no thoughts. Just memories flashing over and over again. He shut his eyes tight, trying to push them away, but he only saw blood. He only saw Nicholas curled on the ground dying.

Tightening his fist, Blake remembered the weight of the dagger in his hand.

"Headache?"

Popping his head up, Blake locked eyes with Ignacio in the bed next to him. Ignacio was back in his demon form, red skin, horns, sharp teeth, and golden eyes. A month ago, Blake would've looked at him like he was something that needed to be killed. Something monstrous. But in this morning light, Blake burst into tears and threw his arms around the creature.

"Whoa!" Ignacio jumped, but he didn't hesitate to return the embrace Blake back. "What's this?"

"I'm sorry," Blake sobbed and held on tighter. He could feel his wounds now, the bite marks that nearly ripped him apart. They cried out for mercy, threatening to open up otherwise, but Blake refused to let go. 

"Sorry? You haven't done anything to me," Ignacio whispered and stroked his hair, attempting to soothe Blake.

Using Ignacio to get up, Blake took a deep breath. "I have to find Danny."

"You still want to find him?" Someone asked.

Blake jumped, grabbing Ignacio as he turned to find Adrian by the window. He was looking out into the falling snow. He tilted his head. "He abandoned you last night and you still want to find him? Blake, you're better than that."

"It doesn't make sense," Blake said. He got off the bed and went searching for his clothes, breezing by Adrian on his way to the dresser. "Something must be wrong. Danny wouldn't do this."

"He was angry with you," Adrian reminded Blake. "People do a lot of terrible things in anger."

"Not Danny. He wouldn't just abandon me or anyone, actually." Blake opened his dresser... but his clothes weren't there. There were clothes, but nothing he recognized. Blake took out a maroon sweater. As they came, Blake spoke his thoughts aloud, "If Danny said he was going to meet me, he would. He's too reliable... these aren't mine."

"They're in your drawers," Adrian laughed. "Whose else would they be?"

"Right," Blake said and shook his head. He must've forgotten Michael buying them for his new wardrobe. Quickly as he could with his wounds, he started exchanging the suit from last night to the maroon sweater, white button up, and tan pants.

"I think you should wait to look for him," Adrian said, walking up behind Blake. "You were so hurt last night. I don't want to see you like that again. He shouldn't be given the chance to hurt you more."

"But that's the thing. He doesn't want to hurt me. He'd never hurt me. Something has to be wrong." Blake turned for his nightstand but didn't see his phone. Thinking it must still be in his suit, Blake rifled through his clothes and then, the floor. "I'm going to find Michael and see if he knows where Danny went. Or maybe Frances knows. I bet he was at the Gala longer than us. Oh! And Josephine. She had to have been the last person to see him—"