Blake and Gunther were still on the rooftop with their gaze wandering over the cityscape and twinkling city lights sprawled out beneath them.
"Wait, so you guys had blood at the house all this while and you three didn't plan to share with me?" Blake blurted out, his eyes widening in disbelief.
Gunther held up a calming hand. "Well, for one, you've been in a terrible mood and you haven't been talking to anyone for a while, so there hasn't been a chance to share it with you," he explained patiently. "And the very day we brought the blood to the safe house was the day you went on a...killing spree."
Blake flinched at Gunther's words. "Shh! Don't say it out loud like that," he hissed, glancing around furtively despite their isolated position on the rooftop.
Gunther arched an eyebrow. "So, do you want the blood or not?"
Blake ran a hand through his disheveled, two-toned locks, considering Gunther's offer. "Okay, if you're actually going to wean me off taking too much blood and control the urge, is it really good for me to be fed this blood?"
Gunther let out a weary sigh. "Well, with the current situation, we have no choice but to give you some to sedate your own hunger." He fixed Blake with an intense look. "You're stronger than you realize, but you need to learn control. The artificial blood can help with that."
Needing no further convincing, Blake gave a resolute nod. The thought of sating his ravenous thirst without causing more unnecessary bloodshed was enough to steel his determination.
"Alright then, let's head back," Gunther declared, rising fluidly to his feet.
The pair descended from the rooftop with an effortless, inhuman grace, landing lightly in the alleyway before making their way back to the quiet residential street where their safe house was located.
As they approached the nondescript two-story home, a stern figure emerged from the shadows of the porch - Nana, hands planted firmly on her hips in a posture of rigid disapproval.
"Where the hell have you two been?" she demanded without preamble. "You left the house without telling me a word, like I don't even matter."
Blake stepped forward, holding up placating hands. "We only went for a quick walk, Nana. No need to worry."
Nana's eyes flashed dangerously. "I hope you both know that when Reggie comes back, I'll inform him you two violated his instructions and stepped out."
"What is going on here?"
It was Nana, standing in the doorway with a look of utter bewilderment and barely concealed disgust. Her gaze traveled from Blake, slumped back in his chair with a half-drained bottle clutched to his lips, to the knowing smirk curving Gunther's mouth.
Blake froze mid-swallow, suddenly realizing how this must appear to an outsider's eyes. Here he was guzzling some unknown substance like a back-alley drunk, while his comrade looked on with amused indifference.
Gunther pushed off from the wall, taking a slow, meandering step toward Nana with his palms raised in a placating gesture.
"Easy there, Nana. Just helping our boy Blake with a...unique dietary requirement." His tone held the barest edge of playful mockery, as if the very notion of explaining himself to Nana was faintly ludicrous.
From the way Nana bristled, she clearly picked up on his undertone. "Don't you 'Nana' me, Gunther! I want to know exactly what's in that bottle, and where you two have been sneaking off to at all hours."
Her glare swung back to Blake, practically incinerating him where he sat. "Reggie had also entrusted me to look after you while he's away in search of Rose. How am I supposed to do that when you two keep me in the dark?"
Blake found himself unable to hold Nana's accusatory stare. A flush of shame crept up his neck as he slowly lowered the bottle. She was absolutely right, after all - they shouldn't be hiding things or breaking rules behind her back. Reggie had placed his trust in Nana too, and by extension Blake owed her that same faith.
"You're right, Nana. We're sorry," Blake said gruffly, finally meeting her eyes with his own contrite gaze. "We didn't mean any disrespect. We just...went out to blow off some steam."
Nana's eyebrows hiked upward at that. "Oh, is that what you call it? And I suppose that bottle is just filled with 'steam' too, is it?"
Gunther threw back his head with a rumbling chuckle. "Actually, it's-"
"Blood." The single word hung in the air, seeming to reverberate with finality as Blake interrupted his friend's flip response. "It's supplemented blood that Reggie has...acquired to help with my transition."
He held up the bottle, face solemn. "I haven't been doing so well controlling my hunger lately. The killings, they were..." Blake's voice trailed off as images of his feral rampages flashed through his mind's eye. The screams, the terror, the feeling of hot vitae flooding his mouth as he--
"Enough." Nana's tone cut through the rising tide of Blake's grisly memories like a dull knife.