"Are you done with your complaining?" I asked, my palm still pointed directly at Claire.
"Don't spray me again! I don't like Undead, and I should be allowed to hate them!" Claire growled, and I narrowed my eyes.
"According to whose rules? The last time that I checked, you were under my direct watch and supervision. That means I am going to ask you to do things you won't like. Ninety-nine percent of them, in fact, so you had better get used to it right now," I growled back, adding with a flat stare, "And next time, I will not be using plain water."
Claire pulled back, crossing her arms defensively, while I took a deep, centering breath and looked around the kitchen for Breya.
"Why are there no cakes made yet? What kind of dreadful kitchen is this?!" Breya complained loudly as she popped up from behind the far counter.
