“Someone doesn’t crack you in the back of the head then shoots you with the assumption you’re going to live through it. Whoever tried to kill me thinks he succeeded. So you can go home. I don’t need you following me any longer.”

The alley cat seemed uninterested in Rainford’s speech. She rubbed against Rainford’s ankles.

“That is highly unnecessary.” Rainford continued. “I understand your concern — after all, I was brutally attacked, but that is no reason to fuss. Gemi certainly didn’t. She ran off to check into the forensics of the scene. It was quite professional. None of that senseless female nagging or coddling, or any other display of concern for my well-being.”

The cat flicked her tail and blinked at Rainford with one eye.

“Yes, I am aware of how unsightly my shirt looks covered in blood. It’s rude of you to point it out.”

The cat returned with a curt mew. Rainford snorted.

“Very well, then… Apology accepted.”

Rainford turned, mindful of both the cat and the killer possibly at his heel.