Meet my cat, the Devil

It used to be that Bindi, our cat, never hissed at me. In fact, she used to hiss at Holly all the time when bath time rolled around. She hissed at Holly’s sisters, my sisters, practically anyone who came around. Most people she grew to tolerate (save for Leia, Bindi seemingly hates her). But she never – ever – hissed at me.
That was, however, until this week. For some reason (I’m going to chalk it up to moving into a new apartment) she has shown me nothing but hatred as of late: I tried to pet her yesterday, and she screeched at me. So, I did what I my broken ego assumed to be the right thing at any situation like this: I threw a pillow at her as hard as I could (I missed, probably on purpose). She hissed again, scratched the air like a raging bull, then sprinted along the wall into her hiding place buried deep in Holly’s closet.
Sure enough, as soon as Princess Holly opens the door returning from work, here comes Bindi trouncing through the house like nothing happened.
But when I try and approach them, I’m greeted with this any more: