“For fuck’s sake.” Growling, Sam grabbed the detector and twisted the cover off. He detached the batteries and the shrill buzzing puttered to a sickly drone before falling silent.
Nikki leaned on the broom and grunted. “Huh, so that’s how you shut the stupid thing off.”
His fist tightening around the batteries, he stalked to the kitchen counter and yanked open the miscellaneous-crap drawer. He pitched the batteries inside and choked on a strangled cough when the awful stench he’d been too busy to notice hit him full blast. Jerking his focus to the stove, he spied a frying pan holding the charcoaled remains of…something. One of the few spatulas he owned was half melted to the burner. What the hell? His patience at an all-time low, he held his breath, crossed to the sink and cranked open the window situated above it. A breeze stirred through, scattering the acrid scent blanketing the kitchen.
He awarded Nikki a baleful glare. “Is there a reason you’re murdering my appliances and utensils?”
“I was making breakfast. Except I’m not very good at 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 Pricilla would do.”
He wasn’t entirely convinced. Not about Pricilla being sneaky. That was a given. But why go to these lengths? Or behind the council’s back, for that matter? Pricilla had Marcus Bahltair, the demon king, wrapped around her pinky. Not bloody likely he’d deny her anything she decided to put before the council.
Sam scratched his beard scruff one last time before dropping his hand. “All of this theorizing is irrelevant. I’m under contract to the bitch. Nothing short of my death will alter that.” And he already knew the unlikelihood of that happening. But to be honest, he wasn’t completely against the idea of accidentally knocking a hairdryer into the tub the next time he took a soak.
Damn, he didn’t own a hairdryer. Might have to put that item on the shopping list.
A crafty smile curved Cass’s lips. “Actually, there is an alternative to death. We can corrupt and break your seal, thereby making you useless to Pricilla.”
He frowned. “Corrupt? What the devil are you talking about?”
“A few years ago I looked into the possibility of having my soul-collector code stripped so Dad would get off my back once and for all. Turns out it can’t be done because of my reaper DNA. But…” Cass’s grin widened, “…a branded demon is a different story. All of my research points at the very real possibility that you can be corrupted, Sam.”
The words that’d just fallen from her mouth might as well have been uttered in a foreign tongue—they were that unfathomable for his brain to comprehend.
Cass honestly thought there was a way to destroy his seal? He stared into his cousin’s eyes, his head spinning as he took in her obvious excitement. Holy hell. Could it be possible? There was a way for him to get out of this mess and give Pricilla the bitch a big fuck you at the same time? Okay, where did the punch line come in? “Let’s pretend for a second I’m taking any of this seriously. How the devil does my seal get corrupted?”
“Yeah, I’m curious about that part too.” Nikki swung her foot, banging the heel of her combat boot on the leg of the table, marking the glossy black finish.
A vein throbbed in his forehead in rhythm to her kicks as he checked the urge to wrap his hands around Nikki’s neck and squeeze. Not too hard. Just enough to make her pass out for the next hour or two—long enough to grant him time to pack her belongings and stow them and her unconscious body on the front stoop of her parents’ house.