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it.”
    “Clearly.” Plowing a hand through his hair, he glanced around the glaringly white space. What the devil had prompted him to paint the walls in such a blinding shade? Not conducive to mellowing a nine a.m. hangover. Particularly without caffeine nearby to soften the blow. He snagged the stainless-steel carafe from the coffeemaker and flipped on the faucet.
    “I can make that if you want.”
    He slid Nikki another dark look. “No. I don’t need you exploding the damn thing.”
    She rolled her eyes before returning the broom to the pantry. When she sauntered back into the room, he gave her a purposeful stare. “Shouldn’t you be working?”
    “Pops hasn’t called me with a case yet.” Her shoulders hitched in a negligent shrug. “Knowing him, he thinks holding out on me is all it’ll take to convince me to go turncoat against Cass. But with Dominic neck-deep in a MIA soul case, Pops won’t be able to wait too much longer if he wants to keep Soul Collections, Inc. afloat.”
    Sam returned his focus to pouring coffee grounds into the filter. The sooner the Lassiters worked out their feud and got back to work so he could have his damn house to himself, the better. Suddenly reminded of the second sibling responsible for the other half of his headache, Sam shot Nikki a suspicious scowl. “Where’s your sister?”
    “In the dining room, working on a plan to break your contract to Pricilla.”
    Snapping his mouth shut, he tweaked the bridge of his nose and attempted to process that statement. Little good it did. Trying to understand the female race was an unsolvable mystery. “Why the hell is she wasting her time on the impossible?”
    “You know Cass. Once she has something in her head, she’s not going to give up until she figures out how to make it happen.”
    Yeah, stubbornness was a Lassiter trait. His jaw tight, Sam swung the basket closed on the coffeemaker and punched the brew button before striding in the direction of the dining room. Cassidy should damn well be concentrating her efforts on making up with her dad, not a fool’s mission.
    The youngest Lassiter sat hunched over her laptop at the dining table, her eyes glued to the screen. Cass blew a straggly lank of hair out of her eye before chewing her bottom lip and tapping the wireless mouse situated next to the computer. She still wore her flannel pajamas.
    “What the hell are you doing?”
    Cass tore her gaze from the monitor and granted him a distracted look. “Hmm?”
    He waved toward her laptop. “I’ll be the first to admit I’m not thrilled about my situation, but there’s nothing I—nor you —can do to change it.” Hell, he’d even resorted to baiting a pair of demon hunters into killing him. Look where that got him.
    “You’re wrong.” Cass scooted her seat back and stood. After indulging in a brief stretch that resulted in loud pops from her strained joints, she paced a path on the rug. “I was up all night mulling over what you said about Pricilla having plans for you. That means you have something she wants…needs.”
    He grimaced. “Long as it’s not my body, I don’t give a rat’s ass.” No amount of horniness would make him that desperate.
    Cass shook her head. “I don’t think that’s the case here. What is it you possess she doesn’t?”
    He grunted. “Season tickets for the Atlanta Falcons?”
    Cass’s expression hinted she wouldn’t be swayed by his sarcasm. “You’re a soul collector, Sam. That’s what Pricilla is after.”
    He rubbed his jaw, letting her supposition sink in. “Why would she need a personal soul collector? Hell, I’m at the disposal of the council. She could go that route without controlling my contract.”
    “Maybe that’s just it. Suppose she didn’t want to go through the council for whatever jobs she has in mind for you, so she circumnavigated that avenue completely.”
    Nikki plopped her butt onto the edge of the dining table. “Sneaky. Definitely sounds like something