This was neither his fault, nor anything that could have been anticipated.
The fight had gone badly for the attackers, but it had been short. He had thrown one, kneed one, hit one, and then had stood panting for breath in the center of his rooms - more from adrenaline than exertion - and watched them sharply for any indication of movement. If they got up...
...but no, the point wasn't to kill them. Blake had blinked, and suddenly felt like a stranger in his body. It felt as though his mind had been clouded by some beserker rage - not a bad analogy, actually - and he was only now coming to his senses. It didn't escape him, nor was he upset, that it had happened after any potential threat was well ended.
He had a calling, and when he stooped to be sure that he had not shattered a jaw or driven bone splinters into a brain, he felt himself settle back into that calling, in spite of the fact that he'd been the one to cause the injuries in the first place and probably should have tempered his reaction a fair bit.
And then something very heavy and very hard slammed into the back of his head, and he fell.
He didn't know how long he was out, which was bad for all sorts of reasons. Just that when his sight started coming back to him in blurs, he could tell that the thugs were gone. Praying that they hadn't taken some kind of revenge before they left, Blake set a hand on the floor and carefully pushed back against the wave of pain and nausea, scooted back until he was sitting with his back to something, waiting for the world to stop tumbling over and over, waiting for things to make more sense.
So the thugs had an additional ally...but how had they gotten in without being seen? Blake dared shake his head, and closed his eyes when his brain felt as though it was sliding precariously close to his ears. It didn't matter, really...
The thought struck him, hard as the skillet, and he reached up to fumble for the necklace that had caused so much problems. Gone. The hurt and rage flooded him again, and he staggered to his feet, ready to fight something, do something?
He wobbled a little, and was forced to admit that even if he knew who had taken it and where they were going, he was in no condition to follow. But he would anyways.