I dropped to my knees beside him, my hands reaching for his shoulders to shake him awake. "Craig! Craig, can you hear me?"
His head lolled to the side, and that's when I saw it. The gaping wound across his throat—a grotesque second smile that had no business being there. The blood, so much blood, soaked into his uniform, pooled beneath him in a dark, sticky lake, splattered across the ash-covered ground in arterial sprays that told the story of his final moments.
My hands were covered in it. Warm and sticky and wrong.
"No. No, no, no." I pressed my hands against his neck, trying to stop the bleeding, trying to fix it, but there was nothing to fix. The blood didn't pulse. His chest didn't rise. His eyes stared up at nothing, empty and glassy in the dying light, reflecting the fading sun like dull marbles.
"Craig!" The scream tore out of me, raw and primal, ripping my throat. "Somebody help! Please!"
I couldn't stop screaming. Couldn't stop trying to wake him even though I knew—God, I knew—that he was gone. That someone had done this. That someone had killed him and left him here like garbage in the ruins of everything I'd already lost.
My hands were shaking. My screams were shaking. Everything was shaking. The world tilted and blurred, and all I could see was blood and Craig's empty eyes and the terrible stillness of his body.
"Ruby!"
Strong arms wrapped around me from behind, pulling me away from Craig's body. I fought against them, clawing and thrashing, still screaming his name, my voice going hoarse.
"Ruby, stop. Stop! I've got you." Cristox's voice cut through the chaos in my head, low and steady and achingly familiar. He turned me away from Craig, tucking my face against his chest so I couldn't see anymore. Couldn't see the blood or the wound or those empty, staring eyes.
His tail curled around my waist, a second band of security wrapping me tight against him, anchoring me when I felt like I was drowning.
I collapsed against him, my legs giving out, but he held me up. Held me together when I was falling apart.
"He's dead," I sobbed into Cristox's shirt, my bloody hands clutching at the fabric, leaving dark red stains. "Someone killed him. Someone—"
"I know. I know." His hand cradled the back of my head, fingers threading through my hair, his other arm locked around my waist like a steel band. His tail tightened around me, the tip pressing against my hip in a way that felt protective, possessive. "I've got you. You're safe."
He'd been on his way to get me. It was getting late, and he hadn't wanted me walking home alone. He'd dropped Teddy off at Mei's and was heading back when he heard me screaming.
Thank God he'd heard me screaming.
Cristox shifted, angling his body to block my view of Craig while he pulled out his comm with one hand, never loosening his hold on me. "Bartholemeus. We've got a situation at the bakery. Craig. Throat cut. He's gone."
A pause. I could hear the tinny sound of Bartholemeus' voice through the comm, urgent and clipped, but couldn't make out the words over my own ragged breathing.
"About an hour, from the look of the blood," Cristox said, his voice grim. He glanced down at Craig's body, his jaw tight, a muscle ticking. "Yeah. We're going to need everyone."
He ended the call and pocketed the comm, then bent and scooped me up in his arms like I weighed nothing. His tail unwound from my waist only to curl around my legs instead, keeping me secure against him. I didn't protest. Couldn't. I just buried my face in his neck and tried not to think about the blood cooling on my hands, getting tacky and dark.
Cristox carried me around to the front of the building, away from Craig's body, and sat down on the curb with me still cradled against his chest. His tail remained wrapped around my thigh, a constant warm presence. He didn't try to make me talk. Didn't tell me it would be okay. He just held me while I cried, one hand stroking my hair in slow, soothing motions, the other keeping me anchored against him.
I became dimly aware of voices, footsteps, the crackle of comms. Some went straight to Craig's body. I heard someone curse, someone else choke back a sob, the sound raw and broken. Others just stood nearby, drawn by the commotion.
I lifted my head just enough to parse the scene through my tear-blurred vision. Neighbors. People I'd known since coming to Tau Ceti. Mrs. Chen, her hand pressed to her mouth, tears streaming down her weathered face. Old Mr. Valdez, shaking his head slowly, his shoulders slumped. Sarah from thecommunity center, her mascara running in black tracks down her cheeks. Even Charlene standing with her brother Peanut seemed aghast by the incident—until she spotted me curled in Cristox's lap and her expression turned hateful. I couldn't think about that now.
Craig was a good man. Everyone liked him. He'd been the kind of peacekeeper who knew everyone's name, who'd helped Mrs. Chen carry her groceries when her hip was bad, who'd taught the kids at the center how to throw a proper punch so they could defend themselves.
And someone had slit his throat and left him to bleed out next to the ruins of my bakery.
I pressed closer to Cristox, my fingers digging into his shirt, and he tightened his arms around me, sensing the fear coursing through me. His tail coiled more firmly around my leg, the muscles flexing protectively.
"I've got you," he murmured again, his breath warm against my temple, his voice a promise. "I've got you, and I'm not letting go."
Chapter 13
Cristox
The acrid smell of smoke still clung to my clothes, mixing with the metallic tang of blood. My hands clenched into fists at my sides as I tried to process what Ruby had just told me.
