"Is it yours?" Ms. Evans asked, eyebrows raised over tired, I-couldn't-care-less eyes.
"Of course not!" Emily snapped. "My hair's blond."
"So is mine."
"No, yours is gray. Just like this hairball."
Whoa. Savannah and I both winced.
"Emily-" I muttered.
Ms. Evans's eyes narrowed as she pushed her dog back, slipped out of her bedroom doorway, shut the door so the dog couldn't get out, then grabbed the hairball from Emily. I could hear the older woman's teeth grinding as she threw the hairball into the trash can under the sink then slammed the cabinet door closed. "There. Happy?"
Emily's chin rose several inches as her arms crossed over her chest. "Actually, now that you asked, could we please try not to leave our dirty cups on the countertop with used coffee bags and spoons inside them when the trash can and the dishwasher are right there?"
"Emily," I said, this time letting my growling tone do the warning. Emily was way out of line, no matter how frustrating the situation was for her.
Savannah stopped scrubbing and seemed to be focused on taking slow, deep breaths. Probably to replace the pee smell in her nose with the freshly applied bleach, though to me the cleaner solution smelled equally as bad.
"Sure," Ms. Evans said. "And could we also try not to leave our used milk cups on the countertop with an empty cracker wrapper inside it when, as you pointed out, the trash can and dishwasher are right there?"
Savannah's eyes rounded as she stood up. "Mom-"
"No problem," Emily said. "Oh, and by the way, could you possibly start cleaning up after your dog instead of making your daughter do it for you all the time? She's not your freaking Cinderella, you know."
"Emily, I don't mind-" Savannah tried to say.
"Oh, stay out of it, doormat," Emily said, her scowl darkening.
Savannah gasped.
"How dare you!" Ms. Evans said. "You ungrateful, spoiled brat. You come into my home and think it's okay to insult my daughter? Who do you think you are?"
"The only person around here who's bothering to speak up for Savannah. Because obviously she's too scared to do it herself." Emily threw an arm out wide in Savannah's direction without looking at her.
"I don't know how you used to do things with your mother, but if my daughter has a problem with anything I do, she knows she can tell me about it."
"Really? Are you sure about that? Because what if she says something you don't like? Aren't you going to just run off and sulk for months?"
It was like watching a cross between a political debate and a tennis tournament.
"Wow, hello, Dr. Phil," Ms. Evans said. "I didn't know we had a licensed therapist in the house. And here I thought we were only having to put up with the Coleman princess of hypocrisy."
"Hypoc-" Emily started to say.
"That's right," Ms. Evans said. "You have the nerve to stand there criticizing everything I do, in my own home, I might add. But you can't even be bothered to remember to switch the wet clothes over to the dryer sometime this century!"
"Excuse me?" Emily said, dragging out the first word.
I looked at Savannah in confusion. What are they talking about?
Savannah's horrified gaze darted my way then went back to ping-ponging between her mother and my sister. Emily offered to do the laundry, but she has a bad habit of forgetting to move the wet clothes over to the dryer.
Which would explain the sour smell I'd picked up from Ms. Evans earlier. I'd thought it was her dog.
Why don't our clothes smell? I asked Savannah.
Her lips rolled in to press against each other. Because I've been washing them for us so Emily wouldn't have a chance to let them sour.
Huh. Then again, it was pretty amazing that Emily had even offered to do laundry in the first place. At home, we'd had a housekeeper to do our laundry for us a couple of times a week.
I blew out a long breath and scrubbed a hand over my face. "Look, ladies, maybe we're all just getting a little stir-crazy around here. Emily, why don't we get a cabin for you-"
"Because they're all already booked up for the summer," Emily snapped, still glaring at Ms. Evans. "And quit trying to change the subject, Tristan."
Ms. Evans shook her head. "That's right, Tristan. Better do as the deposed queen says or she'll cut off your head! Oh, wait, that's right, she can't now that the Clann's probably kicked her out."
"They haven't-"
"That you know about," Ms. Evans said. "When's the last time you were in contact with anyone in the Clann?" In the wake of Emily's silence, she smiled smugly and nodded. "Uhhuh. That's what I thought. You could have been kicked out of the Clann by now and not even know it."
"They wouldn't do that."
"Why not? They kicked out your brother. Or do you think you're too good to be cast out? News f lash. You're not."
"My mother only did what she thought was best for the Clann."
"By being the biggest hypocrite of them all?"
"She wasn't a hypocrite!" Emily said.
"She didn't cast you out. Just like a typical Coleman. A hypocrite to the end, punishing the Clann's rule breakers but only when it suits them." Ms. Evans shook her head. "All my childhood life, all I ever heard was how wonderful the Colemans were, how fair they were, how hard they worked for the good of the Clann and to keep the peace, and how Sam Coleman was the most progressive leader the Clann had ever known. Mr. Vampires-Aren't-Bad-Just-Misunderstood. So why did he marry your mother, who everyone knew was the biggest vamp hater of them all? And why was it okay to negotiate peace with the vamps, but it wasn't okay for me to marry one or have a baby with one? And now look at you. The Coleman princess, knocked up with a vamp's baby just like me. The perfect example of the biggest hypocritical family I've ever seen in the entire history of the Clann, and your mother still didn't kick you out before she died."
I stood up. This had gone way too far.
"You..." Emily's hand rose in the air from her hip and drew back openhanded over her shoulder.
CHAPTER 16
I vamp blurred over to grab her wrist just in time, working hard not to bruise her as I held her back.