Bound Together by Corinn Heathers

world.”
    The layers of intrigue began to pile up. Misaki and her former Master showed up at the Records & Licensing Agency for selfish reasons. It was easy enough to guess that the agency had dirt on the family and they wanted to stop their rivals from obtaining said dirt.
    “They're going to know I was there,” I pointed out. “Reynolds called me in on my day off, there's records of that, plus the times I used my ID to open doors, enter my office, the computer use. They'd have to be blind and stupid to not realize I was there.”
    Misaki's ears drooped slightly. “I was most likely not detected, but AEGIS couldn't have overlooked your presence, nor could they fail to notice the body of my slain Master. They will seek us out.”
    I lit another cigarette. Normally I wouldn't be burning through them this quickly, but things were hardly anywhere in the vicinity of normal. Misaki was right; if AEGIS was really in on this demon-underworld bullshit, they'd be paying me a visit soon enough.
    “I have no messages or missed calls,” I pointed out. “What about your ex-family? Wouldn't they want to recover the Relic? I'd think it would be a treasure that they've passed down generation after generation.”
    Misaki didn't seem to like that question. “They can't.”
    “Oh?” I raised an eyebrow, letting out a puff of smoke. My throat was already becoming sore from chain-smoking three in a row, but they were taking just enough of the edge off of things that I didn't care.
    “A True Relic is permanently bound to its wielder. There is only one way to sever the connection,” Misaki murmured. I noticed that she wasn't looking at me anymore. Her implication wasn't hard to figure out.
    “Let me guess: it involves killing me.”
    Misaki nodded. She looked pretty bad just thinking about it. I wasn't enough of an idiot to believe that her ex-family wouldn't try to contest my ownership of the Relic at their earliest convenience. That left me in something of a predicament.
    Understatement of the century.
    I got up from the bed and walked into the kitchen, suspending the conversation long enough to set the coffee maker to work while I made Misaki another cup of tea. She accepted the offered beverage without protest this time and began sipping at the hot liquid slowly.
    I flicked ashes into a nearby tray and walked over to my closet, trying to figure out what I wanted to wear. It was late enough in the evening that I really had no excuses at all to still be walking around half-naked.
    “Do you wish me to help you dress, Karin?”
    I turned and stared at Misaki. “Um, I can dress myself.”
    The response I got was the expected one; her ears drooped and she looked as if she'd somehow failed at some major responsibility. This kind of culture shock was going to take some getting used to, and maybe I needed to take it a little slower.
    “I get the feeling that you want to be more useful, right? Well, how about this: do you know how to cook?”
    Misaki's ears perked up. “I know a little. Are you hungry?”
    “Yeah, I should eat something for dinner.” I pulled on a pair of socks and then a fresh pair of jeans. A fitted camisole came next. Being off today meant I wouldn't need to worry about being armed. That was good news and gave me more clothing options. I chose a light, gauzy long-sleeve shirt to wear over the tank top.
    The rest of the good news was Misaki apparently had the foresight to grab my gun, which I'd dropped during the fight with that eyeball thing. I drew the weapon from its molded thermoplastic holster and ejected the empty magazine. The slide wasn't locked open on an empty chamber. Misaki must've known a bit about how modern weapons worked if she knew to hit the slide release before holstering the weapon.
    “What would you like to eat, Karin?”
    “Whatever you want to make,” I replied. I picked up the cigarette from the ashtray and pulled on it a few times before stubbing it out. The damn thing smoked most of